Athol

Empire of the Clouds

Itzi

Away

Throwing herself aboard as the airship started to move, dodged and weaved through the other escapees as she made her way forward.

"Zoe, you and anyone who’s not a fighter, make yourselves useful. Spot for obstacles, check for leaks, anything that looks like it could go wrong. If you’re not sure, just yell. It’s better than sitting around."

At least someone is trying to run this show. She thought as she ducked a bit to look out windows as she reached the bridge. The layout was both foreign, this being a military Zeppelin, and familiar, her having years aboard various styles of airships. ”WINDMILL. TEN DEGREES OFF PORT.” She called out, scanning the area. ”WIND SOUTHEAST THREE KNOTS.” She added, looking at a flag near the aforementioned windmill.

Others rushed about, tending to various aspects as she approached the man on the helm. ”Itzi.” She said by way of greeting, scanning the various instruments to get a feel for how things were going. ”You got this? I’m a certified helmsman if you want to spell off.” Though the fellow seemed understandably nervous, all things considered, he appeared to have everything well in hand. Instead of trying to butt in, she simply stood by to assist if needed.

Empire of the Clouds

Itzi

Bedlam

To say things were a tad chaotic at #27s entry was an understatement, but considering the burning city, it was not unexpected. Seeing as no-one seemed to object to her, she turned to start towards one of the mooring lines when some flashy motorcar came barreling in, disgorging some fluttery looking fop, before slamming into gear and charging off toward far mooring lines. As the driver put it in gear, Itzi leapt onto the passenger running board and grabbed a hold.

”HEY!” She called out, pointing to a mooring line. ”Slow and swing by that one, I’ll bail out and get it untied while you get the other!” The driver startled at her sudden arrival, but then nodded and swung towards the direction of her pointing. Slowing the car to a brisk jog, Itzi bailed, intending to hit the ground running…sadly that was not to be.

Her stride was off as she hit, resulting in a stumble; fortunately she was able to catch herself enough so that instead of faceplanting, she merely fell and rolled. Unfortunately, as she rolled, her pistol went flying, landing hard on its backstrap. It impact dislodged the trigger seer and the gun fired once before locking open. ”Mierda…” She muttered as she pulled herself to her feet and retrieved the gun. Closing the action, she tucked it away again before jogging over to the mooring line and unfastening it in short order. Line handling like this was something she could almost do in her sleep. With others seeming to be streaming towards the remaining mooring lines, she headed back towards the gondola and hopefully escape from this damned city.

Empire of the Clouds

Itzi

A City Burns

Itzamatul dodged and weaved through the crowds of panicked people as the sounds of explosions and gunfire rippled through the city. Even as she moved, she did so on a sort of autopilot as the sight of her old ship the Even Giver played over and over. She’d been crew aboard the Zeppelin for almost five years, the longest she’d stayed in one spot since she’d left home…and now it was all gone.

What few personal items she’d owned, several months worth of accumulated pay she’d intended to send to her family, and that crew that’d become her friends…all burned…Hells she’d ‘ve burned with them too if she hadn’t stayed out for an extra beer or three. Her fugue broke as she walked into a stack of crates on the curb having been ‘ejected’ by the flow of the crowd. She had nowhere to actually go, and while ending up in the hands of the Communalists didn’t exactly fill her with joy, mindlessly running about was pointless. Taking a seat, she simply watched the panicked flow and waited, only for a flash of a silhouette down a side street to catch her eye amid the drifting smoke.

THERE! She thought as the smoke shifted again, the tail of a Zeppelin, far down the street. She closed her eyes and thought of the city map she’d poured over not long after the Even Giver had made port. That should be the military port… She didn’t even really have a plan, she just sprang from her seat and started to push towards her new goal.

---

Inbur was a fair sized place and the crowds were thick, but in due time she reached the outer fence of the military port; across the way a Zeppelin sat forgotten #27 painted on her tail. Moving along the fence line, she came to a small man-gate and an empty gatehouse, whoever may have been sent to guard this gate having fled elsewhere. Testing the actual door, she found it locked, but a cursory inspection showed it to be the sort of lock only really suitable for keeping honest sorts out.

Looking about she saw no-one, partially because outside the fence it was a largely industrial area and partially because what people would be here also assumed that a military port would be likely to draw enemy fire. Reaching into the small of her back, she drew her pistol that’d been banging around there since she’d gone out for those beers; now she took careful aim and fired several shots, splintering the wood around the lock before giving the door a few heavy kicks. The wook cracked and the door moved. Another couple of kicks and another shot and the lock broke free of the door and she was in, legging it towards #27. Reaching the Zeppelin, she saw several others, quite a few of them armed. Reaching the gangplank, she made a show of tucking away her (nearly empty) pistol and approaching with her hands visible. ”If you’re leaving, I’m coming with you…I’m a trained Zeppelin helmsman, and I’ve crewed ‘em for years, I can help get her going.”

Empire of the Clouds

Itzamatul Ku

‘Itzi’

Name: Itzamatul ‘Itzi’ Ku
Gender: Female
Age: 30
Nationality: Kingdom of Hunyunak
Appearance: Of both average stature and build, with dark brown eyes and jet black hair, Itzi is not uncommonly mistaken for Inburian, at least until she speaks; then her ‘foreign’ accent tends to give her away. With her hair generally in a single thick braid and the hands of someone used to manual work, she favours simple and practical pants and long sleeves. If she happens to be wearing anything that exposes her arms, legs or any of her torso, she’s fairly covered in traditional Ikitani tattoos from collar to wrist to ankle.

Personal Effects:
Necklace (A gift from her parents when she left home)
Brass pocket watch
Boot knife
Harlan Arms Model 32.
Wallet

• Work permit for the Even Giver (General Crew)

---

Background

What is your job: Pilot/Helmsman by choice, General Labourer by necessity

Backstory: One of many children born to her large family on a farm outside the Hunyunaki capitol, Itzi grew up like many children in her situation did, with little to no formal education and learning to ‘work’ on the farm as soon as she was old enough to be trusted with at least simple tasks. It was a tough life, but not a bad one; the family didn’t have much but they cared for one another and their friends and neighbours as best they could.

One day when she was about 7 or 8 she accompanied a couple of her older siblings on a market trip into the city to sell their produce at market; their father usually did this but he’d taken ill. During that trip she saw her first Zeppelin, a lumbering bulk of a cargo hauler waddling its way into dock; the sight fascinated her and from then on, whenever possible she took to accompanying her father (or whoever else) on sporadic trips into the city. When she was there, she did all she could to talk with Zeppelin crews, asking them not just about what they saw, but just how they did their jobs. Some were less than enthused to be pestered by a child and expressed themselves as much, but others were more forthcoming and humoured her…usually until one of Itzi’s family had to come and drag her away. At fifteen she told her parents of her intention to join one of these crews, not only to fly off to see the world, but so she could send money back home; the only other real future available being staying here to work the farm until being married off to one of a handful of uninspiring local boys; not something she was willing to consign herself to.

At first her parents were more than a little hesitant to let her try, but she pointed out that from her questionings, a basic crewmans wages were better than what the farm made and by now her oldest siblings had children of their own old enough to help around the farm. Eventually they agreed, but only if she could find work within the next few months; Itzi accepted the stipulation and set off to the city a week later.

From friends and contacts in the city she’d already known of an older freighter the ‘Valdez’ that had come into port, with the crew complaining at the bars about running short handed. Bold as anything when she got to the city, she headed straight to the ‘Valdez’ and marched up the gangway to see the captain. While he was understandably hesitant to take on a random girl that’d marched in to see him, he agreed to at least hear her out. Up front, she told him that while she couldn’t read or write, she could cook and clean, was used to hard work and long hours and was willing to learn anything that was asked of her. Eventually he relented and agreed to take her on when the ‘Valdez’ shipped out in a few days; from there she rushed home for a tearful goodbye to her family before setting off.

In the years since she’s proven that despite no formal schooling she is quite smart; learning to read, write and speak several languages, both Zeppelin and aeroplane flying, general Zeppelin maintenance and a host of other duties that are common to ship’s crew. She’s also managed to both keep sending money home and even returns there from time to time, though the Kingdom of Hunyunak isn’t exactly on any major trade routes.

In their opening attacks, Calarian shells struck several warehouses in the commercial port including one next to the Even Giver the Zeppelin she was currently crewing aboard. Unfortunately the warehouse must have been storing volatiles of some kind, as when it was struck it exploded rather spectacularly, with debris sadly shredding the Even Giver and setting the wreckage alight; the only thing that save Itzi was that she ways away enjoying shore leave and was in the process of making her way back (thoroughly broke) when the attack happened. Now like so many others, she finds herself trapped and looking to escape the besieged city of Inbur.

Empire of the Clouds

Bear in mind there is a bit of sexism in this period... but it's also the time of women's liberation starting to take off.

@Dyelli Beybi

Itzi isn't above conducting a little concussive attitude adjustment if she needs to :D

Empire of the Clouds

Itzamatul Ku

‘Itzi’

Name: Itzamatul ‘Itzi’ Ku
Gender: Female
Age: 30
Nationality: Kingdom of Hunyunak
Appearance: Of both average stature and build, with dark brown eyes and jet black hair, Itzi is not uncommonly mistaken for Inburian, at least until she speaks; then her ‘foreign’ accent tends to give her away. With her hair generally in a single thick braid and the hands of someone used to manual work, she favours simple and practical pants and long sleeves. If she happens to be wearing anything that exposes her arms, legs or any of her torso, she’s fairly covered in traditional Ikitani tattoos from collar to wrist to ankle.

Personal Effects:
Necklace (A gift from her parents when she left home)
Brass pocket watch
Boot knife
Harlan Arms Model 32.
Wallet

• Work permit for the Even Giver (General Crew)

---

Background

What is your job: Pilot/Helmsman by choice, General Labourer by necessity

Backstory: One of many children born to her large family on a farm outside the Hunyunaki capitol, Itzi grew up like many children in her situation did, with little to no formal education and learning to ‘work’ on the farm as soon as she was old enough to be trusted with at least simple tasks. It was a tough life, but not a bad one; the family didn’t have much but they cared for one another and their friends and neighbours as best they could.

One day when she was about 7 or 8 she accompanied a couple of her older siblings on a market trip into the city to sell their produce at market; their father usually did this but he’d taken ill. During that trip she saw her first Zeppelin, a lumbering bulk of a cargo hauler waddling its way into dock; the sight fascinated her and from then on, whenever possible she took to accompanying her father (or whoever else) on sporadic trips into the city. When she was there, she did all she could to talk with Zeppelin crews, asking them not just about what they saw, but just how they did their jobs. Some were less than enthused to be pestered by a child and expressed themselves as much, but others were more forthcoming and humoured her…usually until one of Itzi’s family had to come and drag her away. At fifteen she told her parents of her intention to join one of these crews, not only to fly off to see the world, but so she could send money back home; the only other real future available being staying here to work the farm until being married off to one of a handful of uninspiring local boys; not something she was willing to consign herself to.

At first her parents were more than a little hesitant to let her try, but she pointed out that from her questionings, a basic crewmans wages were better than what the farm made and by now her oldest siblings had children of their own old enough to help around the farm. Eventually they agreed, but only if she could find work within the next few months; Itzi accepted the stipulation and set off to the city a week later.

From friends and contacts in the city she’d already known of an older freighter the ‘Valdez’ that had come into port, with the crew complaining at the bars about running short handed. Bold as anything when she got to the city, she headed straight to the ‘Valdez’ and marched up the gangway to see the captain. While he was understandably hesitant to take on a random girl that’d marched in to see him, he agreed to at least hear her out. Up front, she told him that while she couldn’t read or write, she could cook and clean, was used to hard work and long hours and was willing to learn anything that was asked of her. Eventually he relented and agreed to take her on when the ‘Valdez’ shipped out in a few days; from there she rushed home for a tearful goodbye to her family before setting off.

In the years since she’s proven that despite no formal schooling she is quite smart; learning to read, write and speak several languages, both Zeppelin and aeroplane flying, general Zeppelin maintenance and a host of other duties that are common to ship’s crew. She’s also managed to both keep sending money home and even returns there from time to time, though the Kingdom of Hunyunak isn’t exactly on any major trade routes.

In their opening attacks, Calarian shells struck several warehouses in the commercial port including one next to the Even Giver the Zeppelin she was currently crewing aboard. Unfortunately the warehouse must have been storing volatiles of some kind, as when it was struck it exploded rather spectacularly, with debris sadly shredding the Even Giver and setting the wreckage alight; the only thing that save Itzi was that she ways away enjoying shore leave and was in the process of making her way back (thoroughly broke) when the attack happened. Now like so many others, she finds herself trapped and looking to escape the besieged city of Inbur.

Star Wars Chapter 0: KNIGHTFALL

”If it’s all the same, I think I’m going to have a shower and get a few things done before I head back out.” Shaking Talnel’s hand, Elam took his leave. The Argent attack hadn’t been that taxing, but if he was going to be in a place as crowded as the Founding Day feast was, he preferred to be at his best, and the ‘interruption’ they’d caused had stopped him from a couple of minor things he’d planned on doing before the feast.
-
Now at the Tower, he filtered through the crowds, taking in the atmosphere, and here and there, greeting folks that he knew; though given the masses, those were few and far between. ”ELAM EL-RUD!” The voice bellowing his name cut across the din, as everyone’s eyes cut to the source of the noise. Said source was an Iridonian in Green Jedi robes, and built on a scale that reminded Elam rather forcefully of the Mandalor himself. Wading through the crowd to Elam, the Jedi loomed over him. “Six hours...you trapped us in that lift for six hours!” There were only a few beings in the galaxy that could intimidate Elam, and this fellow wasn’t one of them. ”Really?” He replied with a smirk. ”Then you should really get your credits back for the slicer droid of yours; I figured you’d be out of there in like two at most.”

The Iridonian took a deep breath, but continued to glare at Elam. “Just tell me why…why are credits so important to you that you’d help a thief like that escape? How much did she pay you?” Inside his helmet Elam blinked in surprise. ”Help her?” He chuckled, before breaking into outright laughter. ”Mancri Tvi my friend…I sabotaged and trapped you to stop you from taking my bounty!” Mancri stopped glowering and blinked in surprise. ”Aceshaa Heros was a woman of enough skill and audacity to break into your Order’s archives on Corellia and steal a whole host of things, and you do don’t think she’s made powerful and wealthy enemies elsewhere?” “I…I hadn’t considered that.” ”Of course you didn’t…but tell you what; let’s take our grievances to the exhibition ring and settle this, best two out of three…Hell, beat me and I’ll give you the location of her hideout. I managed to trap and bag her there, but was on a tight schedule so I didn’t look about. Whatever she stole might still be there.”

Elam waved to a large clear space in the center of the hall, where a member of the local law enforcement kept watch. Mancri hesitated for a moment before nodding, and the both of them walked over to the official. ”Greeting Gentlemen,” The officer said, looking them over. ”Sabers?” There was a tinge of amusement in her voice. ”Please,” Elam replied. ”A best of three match. Elam El-Rud and Mancri” The officer nodded, keying information into the comp on her wrist; at her feet a large case hissed open. ”Alright, please deposit any lethal implements into the case, they’ll be returned to you at the end. The arena rules are simple; anything goes but if I or any other official calls a halt you do so immediately. Aside from the non-lethals, no weapons are permitted as is the use of lethal Force powers. Failure to comply will result in immediate consequences, clear?” Both Elam and Mancri acknowledged the rules and stowed their weapons, before the officer handed them each a training sabre.

Training sabres in hand they both entered the small arena, Elam taking the far side; as soon as he reached his position and turned to face his opponent a ray shield activated and a countdown timer began.

”3”

”2”

”1”

”BEGIN!”

They rushed each other in a blink, meeting in the centre, their sabres crackling as the blades clashed. Mancri pressed the attack, trying to use his greater height and reach to force Elam on the defensive; unfortunately for him, Elam expected that. Meeting the strike with a high parry, he took a risk and cut inside the Jedi’s reach, rolling his upper body under the attack and with the tip of his own blade, caught Mancri across the ribs. The big Jedi yelped and they both broke and headed back to their starting positions; the first round lasted no more than five seconds.

”Point: Elam El-Rud!”

Mancri took a moment to massage where he’d been hit, before nodding to the official. Elam did the same and they saluted each other as the countdown began again. Elam pushed the attack this time, trying to overwhelm Mancri with a flurry of rapid thrusts and cuts. In a way Elam was handicapping himself for these fights, as he’d yet to activate any of his cybernetics, instead just relying on the enhancements provided by his connection to the Force…much like his opponent. Too many strove to win at all costs, no matter the contest, but without challenge stagnation was sure to follow.

Mancri managed to feint one of his strikes and counter with one that forced Elam to leap clear; landing he made to rush again, only for at the last moment to feel a powerful Push slam into his leading leg. Off balance for an instant, he twisted to compensate and in doing so, left an opening that Mancri capitalised on. In a flash, the Jedi’s blade sparked off of his helmet and they broke apart once more.

”Point: Mancri Tvi!”

Deactivating his own blade for a moment, Elam removed his helmet and inspected it. There was a slight discolouration above the left temple, but it looked like something that could simply be wiped off. Smiling, he tossed the helmet to the side. ”Nicely played Mancri, you’re more sneaky than I gave you credit for!” Mancri smiled back and raised his sabre. “If you ever get tired of grubbing for credits and actually want to do something worthwhile with your time you should join us.” He replied. ”But then I’d have to dress like…that...”. Reigniting and raising his sabre once more, they then both acknowledged the official once more and the final round started.

Both made to meet in the centre once more, Mancri coming in with a powerful overhand strike, while Elam moved in for a hard block. Meeting in a high clash they vied for the dominated position; just as Mancri began to force things, using his greater size to make Elam either back down or back off, Elam did the unthinkable, he deactivated his weapon. Caught off guard, Mancri stumbled a moment and fell forward, allowing Elam to sidestep and claim the winning blow across Mancri’s back.

”Point and match: Elam El-Rud!”

Mancri wheeled about, furious. “That was an under-handed and illegal move.” His sabre still blazing, the official stepped forward, one hand raised while the other rested on the grip of her blaster. ”It was a single strike with a non-lethal weapon sir; the match is concluded. Please deactivate and return your lightsabre.” Mancri still bristled, but he complied, glowering once more at Elam. ”It’s a move that’s only illegal in your world.” Elam replied, returning his own borrowed weapon. ”I was taught there is no such thing as an ‘under-handed’ technique. In the wider galaxy liming yourself in such a way is a good way to get yourself killed by someone who doesn’t think like you do”

As the ray shield came down and they reclaimed their gear, Elam keyed into his wrist comp; after a moment Mancri’s chimed. ”Here, the coordinates…I just wanted to see how you’d do.” Patting him one the shoulder, Elam left the stunned Jedi to his thoughts while he moved deeper into the feast hall, while all around those that’d gathered for the rather short show once again dispersed.

Star Wars Chapter 0: KNIGHTFALL

_@Theyra

He couldn’t help but laugh as Talnel’s comment about his prices. ”I’ll admit, my usual rate is a bit out of reach of most people; but that said, I know what it’s like to try and find your feet without really having a feel for the whole situation, so I’m glad to help.” They sat in a companionable silence for a moment or two before an alert sounded on Elam’s comm.

Checking the alert, he smiled before sending a note to the datapad he’d given Talnel. ”Just got a reminder that the Founding Day feast is starting fairly soon. If you want a good place to meet and talk with a Jedi or two without having to go to the Enclaves, unless they’ve been dragged to the more ‘formal’ deal up the Tower by their wives you may well find Kenobi or Skywalker about…plus the food is both good and free.”

Star Wars Chapter 0: KNIGHTFALL

_@Theyra

Elam gave a nod of ‘thanks’ as Talnel complemented his Tuk’ata, but letting the man speak his piece before replying. ”Firstly, let me lay a fear of yours to rest. In Mandalorian Space at least, they’re not really going to care too much about Force use of any kind, so long as you’re not posing a threat.” Shifting in his seat he shrugged a bit. ”The Enclaves may make a bigger deal of it but from what I’ve read compared to the old Republic era Order, they’ve lightened up quite a bit and their authority only really extended to members of the Enclaves and their properties; As for the Argent? That was bad luck on both our parts. I never figured they’d come to Mandalore, or that if they did they’d be stupid enough to try something like that under the Mandalorian’s noses…they really don’t appreciate others trying to enforce foreign laws in the GRM.”

Standing, he began to go through various cupboards and drawers before finding what he was searching for. Returning to where they sat, he handed Talnel a datapad before sitting once more. ”Jedi teachings have some ‘spiritual’ stuff about selecting the various components for a lightsabre, but as you could probably guess, I don’t put much stock in that. What you’ve got there is a spec sheet of what you need; power ranges for emitters and power supplies, suggested layouts for grips, switches and the like. It’s a bit vague I know, but every sabre is a custom thing, based on your fighting style etcetera. With the exception of the crystal, realistically you can probably build one out of any decently stocked droid/speeder shop or ship repair dock. The crystal itself…” He frowned a bit and sighed. ”Like I said, I don’t think I’m much help to that end, though maybe try asking around the Council of Iron?”

Elam could immediately see that Talnel seemed more than a little wary of that suggestion, so he smiled with a bit of a placating hand wave. ”I know, I know, you’re cautious about this stuff; but they’re actually pretty cool for Jedi. They’re the ones who’ve largely ‘gone native’ as it were and trend more towards Mandalorian style pragmatism…and they’re pretty open to the public, folks are encouraged to just drop in and hang out. Fun bunch, do some pretty good barbecue.”

”As for pay?” He shrugged and made a vague gesture at the ship around him”Normally my rates are…significant, as you can probably guess; but hey I know where you're coming from, new to the wider galaxy as it were unsure of both your place in it and who, if anybody, to trust. To that end, this is all ‘on the house’ as it were; it never hurts to have a few friendly faces in my line of work.”

Star Wars Chapter 0: KNIGHTFALL

_@Theyra

”Elsewhere, eh?” Elam replied, finishing his cup. Taking a moment, he activated his bio-stabilizer and between that and a bit for Force assistance, he purged the alcohol from his system; the pleasant tastes remained, but the mental fuzziness was gone. ”If you want to ‘talk shop’ as it were my office isn’t too far away.”

After a nod of agreement from Talnel, Elam stood taking the partially empty bottle with him. Another hand motion pulled his sabre from the table top, letting him clip it back on his belt. With a nod of thanks to the bartender, he set out into the crowds with Talnel. While he was taking a much more direct route back to the Tuk’ata than what he’d taken to get to the bar, the Founding Day traffic slowed things up considerably. Other than occasionally turning to make sure that they hadn’t been separated, there was basically no chance for the pair to even engage in ‘small talk’ before they finally cleared the throngs.

Now clear of the worst of the crowds, he waved Talnel towards the access door of the landing pad. Once they were both through the doors, he activated the remote access to his ship and dropped the boarding ramp. ”My office.” Leading his new companion, they entered up into the ship's cargo area.

The ship chimed in greeting as the lights came up, illuminating the wroshyr panelled walls and cargo crates of personal supplies. The centre of the cargo area had a small mat laid out on the durasteel decking as a small practice space. Heading towards the bow of the ship they reached to lounge, which like the rest of the ship was panelled in wroshyr wood, though this time on the deck as well. Ducking into the galley to drop off the bottle, Elam then racked his helmet and hung his cloak, inviting Talnel to grab a seat wherever. ”Alright,” He said finally, dropping into a nearby spot. ”Now that we’re away from prying eyes and ears, what’s on your mind?”