Honesty Crow

Star Wars: The Aftermath (A post-Battle of Endor RP)

The moment Phasma, Aladar and Highsinger arrived in Taris the human immediately regretted her decision to even come on this mission. She felt… alone and uncharacteristically anxious. What was going on? Was it the planet? The rancid smells of this dump's streets? The people? She couldn't figure it out. All she could think about was Raveem. The moment his face crossed her mind she began to piece together what was going on. Phasma felt like a child who had been abruptly separated from their parents. That sense of comfort and security was gone, replaced by a series of emotions she hadn't felt in a long time. Regardless, she did her best to keep her composure.

The moment they arrived at the brothel she found it harder and harder to keep herself from smashing someone's skull open. That little bit of restraint she had managed to work up on the way here was gone the moment she saw the depravity of this world. She was angry and sickened by what she was seeing. This place was filled with hopeless drunks, depressing drug addicts, disgusting slavers and their victims. Raveem had once told her that slavery was a necessary evil, but she never agreed with him. Going back to that moment, he seemed happy that she disagreed with him. She never understood why that was the case. Though, at one point she gave up in her attempt to understand what was inside the Bothan's head.

Earlier, one of the server girls had brought over a drink. She despised alcohol and refused to drink it, but did so anyway to keep up appearances. Taking a bit, she immediately regretted it. It tasted terribly sweet and it burned her throat as it came down her esophagus. She just wanted to get out of here. That is when Aladar leaned in and outlined their plan. A gang war? Phasma tried not to seem confused, but whatever had popped up in Miryia's disciple was probably the best of all the other options. It sounded chaotic, but she would make do. Wouldn't be the first time Phasma was caught in the middle of a crossfire.

"About time." She whispered back. "I'll follow your lead."
And take you out if I have to... Highsinger and Aladar were two people… well, and droid, who she had only met a few hours ago. While Raveem seemed to trust them, she certainly didn't. For now though, she was going to stick to the plan and follow Aladar's lead.

@TheWatchDog

Star Wars: The Aftermath (A post-Battle of Endor RP)

@ComradeDex

Your character is approved.

Star Wars: The Aftermath (A post-Battle of Endor RP)

Raveem's Gift

After meeting with Miryia, Raveem left for his safehouse near the Senate building. It was one of the Vas'Ah owned properties in the city. Not too long ago, Raveem had given over the home to his bodyguard Phasma though he would occasionally stay there. Recently, Phasma had stripped the apartment of its luxuries and outfitted it with all sorts of practical appliances and decorations. There was minimal entertainment space, with most of it being replaced with training rooms, a shooting gallery, and a storage room. It also had an advanced medical room with a bacta tank and a medical droid. Before all this, Raveem had figured out that the Parnasso native would want to get rid of all the pointless luxuries he might enjoy. Stepping onto the speeded platform outside, he remembered how she demanded that he give her the resources to renovate the place. She was bold to do so, but Raveem accepted much to her surprise. He knew the warrior would be completely out of her element. She was driven by practicality, efficiency and an obsession with staying in peak shape. Walking into the apartment, Raveem heard the distinct sounds of someone hitting a punching bag. With a smirk on his face, he turned and entered the training room. From the outside, he looked at Phasma throw a flurry of punches against a leather bag. The captain was covered in sweat and looked like she was pushing herself over her limits. Raveem guessed she had been in there for several hours. Perfect.

The Bothan walked over to a nearby console. Going over a series of controls, he found the options that gave him command over two programmed training droids. He chuckled as he activated them, setting them to a 'lethal mode.' Walking over to the viewing port, he stood there to watch the chaos unfold. Phasma noticed the droids activating instantly and looked over to the glass where Raveem was standing. She glared at him as the droids lunged at her with stun batons. At first, they managed to overpower her. However, once she gained control of one of the batons the Parnassian human was able to defeat both droids in short order. Exhausted, she collapsed on the floor and then sat on her knees as she tried to catch her breath. Raveem entered shortly after, clapping as he walked toward her.

"A magnificent performance! I knew you could do it." He giggled as she glared up at him. The Bothan offered up a hand to help her stand up. She initially refused but eventually relented when her body refused to move without assistance.

"You set them to lethal." Phasma groaned, looking down at the Bothan who stood a foot lower than her. She was furious. Not because the droids could have killed her, but because Raveem interrupted her routine. "Were you trying to kill me?" She asked dryly, walking over to a stand to grab a bottle of water.

Raveem scoffed and held back his urge to laugh. He found the question rather amusing "Goodness no! What would I do without your fearless protection?"

"Find someone else?"

"Well." Raveem walked over to her as she turned around to face him. The Bothan stood there, staring at her like a proud father. He reached up with his hand and gently stroked her cheek making her wince. Phasma was more confused than anything. It was rare for Raveem to get this… touchy with her. Ever since he adopted her as a teenage girl, Phasma had seen Raveem as an adoptive father. He was harsh, demanding, but fair. Frankly, she also thought he was crazy and reckless. But that didn't take away from his genius strategic ability and knack for predictions. That aside, tonight he was acting stranger than usual.

"What's gotten into you, lately?" She asked, making him withdraw and take a step back. Phasma had known him for too long. It caught him off guard.

"Nothing." Raveem said quickly, turning toward the door. "That reminds me. I brought you a little something. Come, come."

Phasma sighed and followed. Perhaps she would know at some point. Following Raveem, she met him in the living room. There, two droids had brought in two large military crates. With a wave of his hand he dismissed the droids and beckoned Phasma to step forward. Looking over the boxes for a moment, Phasma figured they were military issue. Which narrowed down the possibilities by a lot.

"Open them, come on!" Raveem stepped back, smiling widely as he eagerly waited for Phasma. Glancing at him, she stepped to the side of the largest crate and opened it. Her eyes went wide when she saw what was inside. Inside were pieces of a full set of armor. Each piece, instead of being colored white were dyed in chrome. Picking up the helmet, she stared at her reflection for a moment before noticing the helmet's design. It was drastically different from Stormtrooper armor.

"I had it commissioned just for you." Phasma heard Raveem explained, turning her attention to him. "It was made out of one of Palpatine's useless Naboo yachts. After all, he is pretty dead. So, I thought-" Raveem shrugged his shoulders, raising his hands to the sides. "hey, why not scrap the thing and make a suit of armor for my favorite warrior? If you ask me. It was better off this way."

He walked over to the smaller crate and opened it himself. One of the items within it was a redesigned force pike. Raveem picked it up, and extended the spike-looking pike. It had pointed ends on both sides and a silver finish.
"For all your close quarters needs. It is strong enough to deflect those pesky lightsabers should you ever encounter them. Finally-" Settling the spike down, he picked up the rifle right next to it. "your new rifle. A prototype F-11D. First of its kind."

Settling the helmet down, she walked over and took a closer look at her new weapons. She was eager to put them to good use, something Raveem seemed ti have picked up on.
"Soon, my dearest. Very soon. You and I… we are going to make history." The Bothan giggled, as he turned to leave. He couldn't wait for what was coming next. "Oh, and don't worry. You're welcome."

He left before she could say anything else. Not like she knew what to say. She was overwhelmed and confused at the same time. Regardless of her feelings, she would follow her mentor anywhere he went. And while she had some reservations on that Miryia character, Raveem didn't seem concerned so that meant she shouldn't either. Soon, Phasma retreated to her chambers after a modest meal, a brief shower and a small journal entry. Once she laid down on her bed, it didn't take long for her to drift off into sleep.

The traitors had been vanquished. Finally, the Empire had been victorious. Thousands celebrated in the streets of Corusanct, bright red banners adorned the buildings as millions celebrated the restoration of order to the galaxy. She walked alongside Raveem, who eagerly waved while wearing his ISB uniform. In the blink of an eye, she heard the distinctive bang of a sniper rifle. Soon after, Raveem was on the floor. Phasma rushed to him, holding him up as he struggled to breathe. The shooter had shot him through the chest. She tried to say something, but felt like she couldn't speak. Even when she forced herself, her lips refused to move. Phasma looked up as Raveem drew his last breath, meeting the gaze of Miryia who stood in front of them. The Arkanian smiled as she met Phasma's stare. Deep down, Phasma felt guilty. She should have seen this coming. Followed her gut and kill that woman the moment she laid eyes on her. In a fit of anger, Phasma released Raveem corpse and lunged at Miryia only for her to disappear into a cloud of smoke. She then felt like she was falling into an endless void, hearing Miryia's mocking laughter as she did.

Phasma awoke from her nightmare with a scream. She sat there for a moment, and held her head in her hands. Wiping away the tears on her cheeks, she sat on the side of her bed. Taking a deep breath, she steadied herself. It was only a dream, she assured herself. That mantra was abruptly interrupted by the beeping of her communicator.
"Yes?" She answered, her voice a bit groggy while glancing at the sunrise. "I'll be there in two hours." Sighing she stood up, taking one final look outside before heading out.

The Vanishing Kingdom

When Sahale dropped him off near the temple, Eduard didn't waste any time going inside. While Sahale hadn't exactly given him any time to fix his coat or hair after the rather unorthodox trip, he could manage. There were more important things than his appearance to take care of right now. The moment he went inside the temple, he took off his coat and rolled up his sleeves. Placing his bag on the ground, he went over his items one more time taking a stethoscope and checking his pouch of medicines to make sure that everything was inside. Picking up a notebook and pencil he started walking around, checking every single patient within the temple. While he had been expecting the worse, many of the patients inside the temple were surprisingly stable. It seems Neev had done good job at healing the injuries of the majority of the wounded. Of course, some of them would need long term care to prevent anything permanent, but at the moment there were no emergencies. That was a relief, though that brought up the question. What happened to Neev? There were too many people in here. Way too many for one person to handle. While he had trained Neev personally, this was beyond her capabilities. It was admirable, but at the same time dangerous. Near the very end of the temple, he spotted a familiar figure lying atop a table. His features were recognizable but something had changed. As he approached, he slowly came to the realization that the person lying on the wooden table was the tailor he had bumped into earlier today. Standing next to the table, he realized that Aerex had been hiding his true identity this entire time. The odd coloring of his hair, heterochromia in his eyes. He was a Grusk. This could perhaps complicate treatment. On the other side of the table was a young human woman, probably a local by the looks of it. She was silent, her hair was a mess and most of her was still covered in sand. The woman held on to one of Aerex's hands looking at it with a mix of despair and fear. Slowly, Eduard made his way to her side of the table.

"Madam." He began, speaking softly so as to not wake any of the resting patients or startle the poor woman. "My name is Doctor Eduard Koch. I'm here to help. Would mind telling me your name?"

"J-Juliana." Said the woman with a shaky voice, briefly glancing at him. By the look on her eyes she must have gone through some kind of traumatic event. He could only guess at what happened, though later on he could speak to her and find out what happened. Though before that he had to check whether she had any injuries.

"Juliana. By the way you've standing here, I can assume this man here means a lot to you." He kept his remark vague on purpose. It was best not to assume.

"H-he's my boss and a c-close friend. I-I just…" She paused for a moment, swallowing hard as she held back the urge to cry. "Is he, g-going to be okay?"

"I'm sure Neev was able to do a good job at stabilizing him. I'll examine him and determine what we can do for him. I can assure you, miss. I will do everything in my power to make sure he lives." He paused, gently removing her hands from Aerex'. "Come, you should sit down for a moment. He's in good hands."
Juliana begrudgingly let go of Aerex' hands and walked with Eduard toward a nearby wooden chair. As she sat down, a damn burst. The woman started sobbing, covering her face as she did.
"It's all right." He said, placing a hand on her shoulder. "Let all that out. You staying by his side was a good thing. It's time for you to rest, however. I'll come by in a moment to check on you."

Juliana noded, as her crying subsided. Heading back to the table, Eduard did the same check up as he had done earlier for the other patients. Unlike them, Aerex' case was more complex. While Neev had done a good job at fixing a dislocated shoulder, broken ribs, a broken nose and a disjointed knee he still had a high fever. Taking a good look at his hands, Eduard sighed as he saw the familiar blue streaks associated with mana sickness running along Aerex's arms and up to his arm. One of his palms also showed signs of second degree burns. It looked like he had placed his hand directly on an open flame. Neev's healing had done a good job at mitigating its effects on the skin, but it would still need dressing. Looking around, Eduard made the decision to start off with Aerex and help the rest later. Aerex' wounds seemed to be the gravest of the bunch, and the faster he got started the quicker he could get to the rest.

Star Wars: The Aftermath (A post-Battle of Endor RP)

As Eshen fled he came across a dead officer and dug into his bandoliers and thankfully found a keycard.

“Jackpot…”

Taking the road back Eschen fled the force adept, hoping to find a useful weapon amongst the dead Imperials he left.

In orbit of Thule

Screed watched below on the planet impatiently, that woman mystic Vader trained had better been correct. Lanu Pasiq she was called, a former Jedi, even one pledged to the Empire couldn't be trusted at this point. He knew all about the Jedi plot to overthrow the Chancellor before such a creature should be kept at arm's length.

He had searched this planet out on Zsinj’s request, it was likely a test of loyalty after all he was simply an ally not a true underling of the Warlord, and the Raptors given to him as a gift were more than likely exicutionors if the time ever arose.

He was no fool when he allowed the Warlords forces onto Gladiator, he was depleted after Endor and he was desperate for support at this point. It was still a disgrace to go from one of Palpatine’s right hand men into one of the many Imperial Warlords feeding on his Empires corpse to survive.

What was worse was Screed was allying with a poser like Zsinj, he was already a decorated Veteran of combat before Zsinj was a boy who had entered the late stages of the Clone wars riding his mother’s coattails. Eventually her son became her executioner, he had great respect for Maarisa which is one of the few reasons Screed tolerated her son.

Many of the man's rivals underestimated Zsinj’s cunning, he often obfuscated stupidity to hide his sociopathic tendencies leaving many of his rivals dead and the handlebar mustache twirling blowhard free to feed on their corpses.

Screed was not a man of the same calibur and preferred working with the predators rather than becoming prey like Sate Pestage, a soon to be carcass surrounded by hungry beasts thirsting for his position. Jace Dallin, became Prey for questioning the New Order of things, as did his old friend Dodonna when he tried to fight against it alongside his only son.

Screed was resolved to survive the Empires collapse, maybe spend the rest of his life in comfort of his private Empire, and if it required him to do the bidding of an inferior such as Zsinj so be it.

“Admiral there seems to be some kind of conflict outside of the Storehouse, our sensors detected blaster fire and explosions.” A bridge crewman knocked screed out of his musings.

“Deploy a raptor team at once! We must have the facility intact. It may be Rebel interlopers! Eliminate all parties.”

The name for Zsinj’s pet military force was apt, Screed would once again be taking the role of the predator.

Imperial troops transports descended from the sky in formation escorted by TIE fighters. The Raptors within loaded their weapons and prepared themselves to face down whatever enemy had attempted to break into the vault. Those below would have to now face one dozen Raptors and a two dozen of Zsinj’s soldiers. While intel on who exactly had broken into the vault was scarce, Screed was certain that Raptors could take them. Once they were disposed of, Screed had been ordered to send in a team of specialists to open the vault and loot its contents. According to Imperial records secured by Zsinj’s spies, this particular vault held something of great value to Emperor Palpatine. However, the manifesto detailing its contents had been expunged following the death of Palpatine. Zsinj and Screed figured that the records were wiped after a kill switch was activated following the death of the Emperor. It was clever, but not clever enough to deter Zsinj from sending a force there to secure whatever it was that Palpatine had placed within.

The ground around the vault rumbled as the transports approached. TIE fighters roared past as the transports settled only a few feet away from the main entrance near a clearing in the trees. Zsinj’s conscripts along with a pair of TIE maulers were the first to emerge from the transports. They secured a perimeter around the landing site before beginning their approach toward the vault. The Raptors emerged from the transports last, serving as the rear guard for the main group. With precision, the Raptors split and began to cover ground around the vault’s entrance, ensuring that the area was clear before setting up a camp on site. Seeing the bodies littered about, the Raptor’s leader figured that whoever had been here was able to wipe out a whole squad of Stormtroopers, several Imperial Commandos and two Royal Guards. He theorized that New Republic Commandos had attempted a raid but failed to get to the vault itself. A group of Raptors approached the doors, seeing that they had been sealed. Upon closer study, the doors had clearly been closed recently. That seemed to shut down the theory that whoever was behind this hadn’t been successful. Or… the Imperials were still here.

The Vanishing Kingdom

@Jollan

Eduard didn't think about it twice. He took the 'blade' Sahale offered him, and braced for whatever was next. A cushion of wind lifted him off the ground and soon they were on their way back to Kalla. As they moved away from the cave and into the open desert, Eduard swore he heard someone speak. It was more of a faint whisper; a woman's voice. The way she spoke, it sent shivers up Eduard's spine. Despite being someone who believed he had seen it all, this was enough to make him feel uncomfortable. The mysterious voice threatened to destroy him should he be an 'enemy', however Sahale soothed her fears. Soon after that, they picked up speed making their quickly across the desert.

During the trip, Eduard pondered on the situation. He went over every memory he had on treating trauma injuries. Considering the amount of people in the town and its relative remoteness, he expected that supplies would be scarce and personnel low. Eduard realized halfway through that he would probably have to ensure long-term care for dozens if not hundreds of people. Thinking about that, he realized that he would probably have to procure more medicines from the Red Saints when he had the chance. He gripped the bag around his shoulder, sighing as he realized that he probably didn't have enough to take care of so many patients. He reassured himself, it would have to do. But, some patients would probably have to be prioritized over others. It was something he hated, but it had to be done. Hopefully, he thought, the two healers there had done enough to stabilize the patients. Otherwise, more people were going to die. As they approached the town, Eduard steadied himself, taking a deep breath. These things were never easy, but they had to be done.

It was time.

Star Wars: The Aftermath (A post-Battle of Endor RP)

@Wildling

Yes. It's approved.

Star Wars: The Aftermath (A post-Battle of Endor RP)

@Wildling

Only one thing. On the bio, you should switch out the New Republic with the Empire. They are the ones in control of Coruscant right now. I apologize for the confusion. I haven't had time to change out the capital of the Remnant yet.

Star Wars: The Aftermath (A post-Battle of Endor RP)

@Wildling

Hello! I apologize for not responding sooner. I have been busy IRL and haven't had time to go over the OOC section. I'm reviewing your CS right now.

Star Wars: The Aftermath (A post-Battle of Endor RP)

Pestage's Folly

Everything had fallen into place. This plan which had grown from the darkest and most depraved corner of Raveem's mind was unfolding before his eyes. He looked on as Miryia spoke. While others saw madness, he saw raw and unrivaled power being manifested in the form of complex insults. It was beautiful to behold and he couldn't help but feel euphoric as he felt the Force emanate from her. While he didn't know if he was Force sensitive himself, nor did he care, he always felt this indescribable sensation whenever he was near a Force user. It felt good in a sense. The sensations made him feel euphoric. He wanted more of it. But in this instance, the effects were amplified as the plan he had so carefully put together continued to unfold before his very eyes. Abruptly, one of the royal guardsmen who were ordered to arrest them was killed. That briefly returned him to reality. Then, another guard was killed. After that, all hell broke loose.

The lights went off and the room was suddenly illuminated by green and red blaster bolts. Lasers flew everywhere and people screamed left and right as old friends turned on one another and political enemies attempted to slay each other. Ishin Il-Raz, the fanatical COMPNOR leader was the first to die. His head was blown off by a single punch from Karius' cybernetic arm. Brain matter, bones and pieces of skull flew across the room as the Grand Admiral's corpse fell to the ground motionless. Tigellinus was wounded by a blaster bolt from an unknown Imperial Officer all the way on the other side of the room, most likely by accident. However, the culprit was soon stabbed to death by Hissa who confused him with someone else. Palleon and Sloane flipped a table near their corner and took refuge there as the small battle unfolded. Two governors tried to take on General Rom Mohc, but their attempt was soon foiled by Isard who shot them dead as Mohc fought them off. Phasma attempted to defend her master as much as she could. The bodyguard managed to kill two lower Imperial Officers who tried to kill Raveem. The Bothan seemed to be in his own world as he giggled to himself hearing and sensing the carnage around him. Grand Moff Dunhausen tried to kill his counterpart Hissa, but he was killed by Thistleborn before even getting to him. In turn, Dunhausen was murdered by a rival governor who slammed a bottle of whiskey over his head before shooting him on the ground. Bertroff Hissa managed to take refuge near one of the tables as other governors and officers searched for him. But, those too soon ended up dead or wounded.

Soon, the room grew silent again save for the occasional groan from the countless bodies that now littered the reception area of the Senate Hall. Those who remained standing soon saw the carnage as the lights turned on. Countless bodies laid on the floor, either bloodied, bludgeoned or shit to death. Nearly two thirds of the Imperial Ruling Council had been killed. Yssane Isard, Rom Mohc, and Martio Batch on one side were unscathed by the shooting. On another corner of the room, Karius was stabilizing his friend Tigellinus who had been shot in the side by a stray blaster bolt. The half-breed, Grand Moff Hissa was sitting alongside a group of dead Governors, all either stabbed or bludgeoned to death. Palleon and Sloane emerged from their cover, surveying the carnage before slowly making their way to the center. Grand Admiral Takel had taken cover behind the bar and slowly peeked his head to see if the shooting had ended. The only two left from Pestage's camp was Pitta who had been injured during the fight and crawled over to a corner of the room to wait it our and Pestage himself. The Grand Vizier had been reduced to a cowering mess on the ground. Without his guards present or his previous master to protect him, he was but a defenseless child.

"Please." He begged, looking up at Miryia. "Have mercy. I didn't mean for you to die. The intelligence was wrong. I swear I didn't have anything to do with it." A blatant lie. Perhaps in his last moments he believed he could still cheat his way out. However, that would not be the case.

Raveem spun around, walking circles around Miryia and Pestage as he surveyed the room. Out of everyone there, he was the only one grinning. The carnage around him still had his heart racing. "What a day, huh?" He said, glancing at Miryia and then Phasma. "This turned out better than I thought." Miryia spotted Pitta on the other side of the room, slowly raising his pistol at Raveem who seemed unaware of the fact. One last blaster bolt rung out and that was followed by the Bothan screeching as he fell to the ground. The Grand Admiral grinned as he saw the Bothan hit the floor clutching his belly. Phasma shouted and charged him, but she soon stopped and turned to glance at Raveem. He then started laughing, and slowly turned his head toward Pitta who's face slowly turned into a look of sheer horror.

"I-impossible…" He said softly, as his eyes widened seeing the Bothan slowly stand up cackling as he did.

"My turn." Raveem's voice adopted a low and deeper tone as his smile turned into a sadistic grin. He pulled on his sleeve, revealing a small wrist mounted device with a launcher. Pressing a button, he shot a dart at Pitta's neck. Soon, the Grand Admiral's eyes turned red and he began to vomit blood.

"That, Grand Admiral Pitta is a neurotoxin of my own making. In mere minutes, it will shut down your organs one by one while keeping you conscious as you experience excruciating pain…" Raveem waved in Pitta's direction, as the Grand Admiral choked on his own blood as it poured from every orifice in his head. "Enjoy." The Bothan cleared his throat and glanced at the bar. "Ah, I need a drink."