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Post by Zenios on Nov 18, 2019 10:48:37 GMT -5
((lol, you guys done goofed letting me pick a title))
Dathomir, approximately noon local time.
"That's no outpost," Darrian groused, lowering his macrobinoculars. "That's a fortress."
Sure enough, the structure towering over Dathomir's rather desolate landscape did seem a fair bit more massive than he'd imagined when the Council had asked him to investigate a 'small research outpost'. It was probably more accurate to describe the site as a compound: he could make out walls, a couple of one- or two-story outbuildings probably intended as storage buildings or barracks, and then a central building. It didn't look like much from Darrian's overlook atop a promontory, a solid three kilometers away and half of one high, but he was fairly certain it was at least a hundred meters tall. The architecture was pretty typically Imperial: purely functional, without much thought given to anything else. It was mostly hard angles and cold durasteel, but he also spotted a fair amount of weathering, some claw marks, and even a bit of carbon scoring.
The nice thing about old Imperial structures was that it was always easy to guess where they stored important things, like backups of research data on whether or not Force aptitude was genetically predictable: either at the top of the tallest building, or on the lowest sublevel. That rarely meant, however, that it would be easy to try and ascend a hundred-meter-tall structure or descend below it without upsetting the dozens of mercenaries he'd been told had moved in after the Empire left. Honestly, Dare was pretty certain he was a horrid pick for this sort of mission: he wasn't particularly sneaky, wasn't a particularly adept swordsman, and generally sliced his way through doors with his lightsaber than with any level of computer aptitude. He was fairly certain he'd only been asked to show up here because he had some limited experience with the dark side--relevant both around old Inquisitorius sites and, really, he supposed Dathomir in general--and because he had been in the neighborhood, galactically speaking.
Ah, well. This'd be an interesting test of his abilities. The terrain between here and the compound looked rocky, uneven, and pretty barren as was most of Dathomir, but he was fairly certain it would still prove easily traversable with the Force's aid. There was plenty of cover, but the fact that Dare didn't see any obvious signs of rancor in the area was an immediate plus. Fighting one of those monsters--let alone multiple--was pretty hilariously low on his list of priorities.
He returned to his X-wing, securing the camouflage netting a little more tightly as he ducked underneath the fuselage to access the cargo compartment. The light combat suit he wore would be fine protection against the elements and decent enough against attacks, but he threw on a mostly-brown camouflage poncho over top of it to provide some more protection against prying eyes. Pulling on a pair of gloves and grabbing his climbing kit, he closed up the cargo compartment and set out to work his way down the cliff face. Darrian had a long climb ahead of him, but it didn't look like it would be terribly difficult if he took his time - and he certainly wasn't in a rush.
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ThreeDawg
Administrator
Voice of the Wastes
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Post by ThreeDawg on Nov 18, 2019 17:13:25 GMT -5
Two weeks earlier, on the Imperial held shipyard planet of Botajef.
"You're not a Jedi, are you?" The Jefi asked, giving his species' version of a cautious frown. His body closed up at the question, it didn't take an empath to read that the two rounds of the cantina's second best he'd been gifted had gone to waste. He had already risen from his seat, he might even cause a scene. "You have to tell me if you are, that's the law."
"Of course it's the law, you think I don't follow the law? Listen, if I was a Jedi I'd tell you. I'm just here to talk. You, me, and this Bandomeeri Brandy. I know you're the guy here I need to talk to and I'm here to talk. So, you're going to sit back down and talk with me." The young woman, easily half the Jefi's age, crossed her arms with the command. She was stern, but didn't want to come off as antagonistic - so she motioned towards the now empty seat "Drink up, it's on me remember."
Obediently, the Jefi complied. Yela admired that about the Jefi. He sat back down, and looked visibly more relaxed. Yela leaned forwards, resting her elbows on the table. She put on her widest, friendliest, smile "So you were saying, about those holocrons?".
The Jefi clenched up again, but this time he carried on his story. "Well I heard about it from a guy on the yards. Looking to get his Sienar-Chall refitted for multiple passangers, so I asked what sort of 'passangers'. Anyway, turns out the guy had stolen the transport from his old gang. Falling apart he'd said." The Jafi took a pause to take a drink. Yela, not wanting to look misplaced, brought her own cup to her lips. She didn't drink, but at least he thought she did. He continued, "So his old gang were the Crimson something, running out of Dantooine - or was it Dathomir? Said he knew a bunch of them had gotten in with a bad crowd looking for old artefacts - Witches, Sith, Jedi, anything like that. Well he didn't want none of that hocus pocus, so he got out with the transport as 'payment for his services'. Well of course I turned him in, the Imperials pay a good bounty for members of the criminal classes. Hey, you're not a criminal are you?"
Yela smiled again, shaking her head with a light laugh, "No, of course not. Do I look like a criminal to you?" She leant back, opening her arms innocently. She carried no blaster, wore beige threads and didn't at all look intimidating or pirate-y. "I'm just a spacer, interested in hearing your story."
The Jefi took her not-at-all-convincing story at face value, such was the way of the Jefi. "Yeah well, he got what he deserved. You don't look like you deserve that." He wriggled an appendage at her, she inhaled slowly at the advance as she smiled through it with a wink. He continued, "Anyway I think it was Dathomir, or Dantooine. He said they had something there, and were paying his gang big credits to keep an eye on it. I'm sure if it were to find a way into the hands of the Imperials, they'd pay a good bounty for that."
"It would be my civic duty, of course. I'm sure the Empire would be very greatful, especially when I mention you by name to the requisitions officer." She left the Jefi with a fulfilled smile on his face, happy to have been of service, and motioned to the Talz sat alone at one of the booths. Her Master's large white frame was covered by a black robe, although none could mistake his race's distinctive form. The Imperials, Jefi and other residents of the cantina had given him a wide berth.
Outside the cantina they moved forward with purpose, silent. She reached out to him with her mind, and was welcomed with her surrogate father Bruzac's characteristic love. The Jefi mentioned Dantooine and Dathomir, a private collector or collectors, and a band of mercs related to something Crimson. There could be something there, he mentioned a holocron.
Bruzac buzzed audibly, a sign of discontent. It didn't go unnoticed. Dathomir is closer. The planet is bathed in crimson light. It is dangerous, born in the Dark Side. A place of exile and death. I will not go there lightly, perhaps that is what your contact means.
Yela's nostrils flared. He is not my contact.
Bruzac grumbled happily. He is now.
Yela had already forgotten his name.
Dathomir, present.
The silver and red hull of the Lantillian shuttle they piloted broke the savage atmosphere of Dantooine, coming to rest on a craggy outcropping of blood-red stone. Yela span in her co-pilots seat, clipping the switches to shut the engines down and bring up their communication scanner. "There's not a lot of activity on this planet, it should be easy to pick up anything."
"You did tell the council of this discovery like I asked, didn't you Yela?" Bruzac said in his buzzing language, something she had mastered translating long before she discovered the Force.
"Of course," she replied - she had - "I'm sure they wouldn't mind if we save them the trouble of sending out a scout team." - they would, as their reply comms had maybe said it would be a good idea to stay away from the planet and let a skilled operative handle it. Maybe. Bruzac didn't have to know that bit though, their job was to track artefacts and collect them when possible. Without causing a diplomatic incident with the Imperial Remnants. But that's why they couldn't get caught.
Yela couldn't hide her uncertainty from her master, "Is something wrong, Yela?"
"Yes." She couldn't lie, "This planet, it feels wrong." much. It wasn't technically a lie, it did. Dathomir felt twisted and evil.
"It is." Bruzac responded, solemnly. "This planet holds many wounds, we would be wise to leave it as soon as we-"
"Wait! Sorry Master, comms chatter. Encrypted, of course, but I can pinpoint the sender's signal." She flipped on a small holographic map of the planet, a red triangle flashed across one of the sectors. "There-ish. Should be easier to spot when we get there. And look, it's not too far away."
"Good." Bruzac said, flipping back on the ship's engines for the short planet trip, "But do not interject." Bruzac added.
"Sorry, Master. We're not traveling by speeder? It'll be quieter."
"That would be unwise on this planet. We will make our presence known, if we must."
"Are we going to just ask them for the holocron?" Yela asked incredulously.
"If we must."
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Post by Zenios on Nov 29, 2019 13:31:29 GMT -5
The climb down was a fairly methodical and repetitive one, enough so that Dare didn't have much trouble settling into a sort of meditation on his way down. He found himself reaching out with the Force almost instinctively, trying to touch the threads binding him to the nearby flora and fauna. It was somewhat soothing to be able to connect with the living things in the area, even if that life was mostly restricted to hardy grasses and a few shrubs dotting the landscape; and it was equally reassuring to note that he didn't sense much else to grab his attention between here and there. The locals had never been particularly fond of Jedi, as Dare recalled, and he strongly doubted that that attitude had changed at all in the last few years.
He did, however, note a couple of more significant strands - two drifting somewhere above, near the extreme limits of his senses. Dare might not have been particularly talented at hiding his presence in the Force, but he could at least avoid pulling on those threads unnecessarily and drawing additional attention to himself.
Amid the tangled mess of connections between the beings in the research outpost a few kilometers away, though... one of the presences felt familiar to Dare. Wait, no, not quite--but there was something familiar about it. Something dark, the same sort of darkness he'd sensed in Sena the last time he'd seen her. He reached out to touch that thread in particular without thinking, to try and better identify it. Perhaps unsurprisingly, the presence reacted and further pulled on the connection, and that was enough to get Dare's blood running cold. It started... consuming the thread was the best metaphor to come to mind. Coming at him, attacking, and he instinctively tensed up, pulling away from both the presence and the cliff face.
It was fortunate, Dare reflected as he stared up at the sky, that he'd only been two meters off the ground when he fell. He lay on the ground a moment, trying to piece together what he'd sensed. It was hard for him to say if he'd made contact with a person, or just an object imbued with darkness. Either certainly made sense, given that this was an old Inquisitorius stronghold, bound to be full of artifacts or those hunting for them, but neither really seemed like a better scenario. Dueling was, frankly speaking, the weakest facet of his skillset, and he'd been all too wary of darkness for years now.
Well, either way - there wasn't much sense dawdling. He was here, and he was probably one of the only people in the sector, let alone on the planet, equipped to handle what lay ahead. The Force would see him through.
Dare stood, dusted himself off, and started moving in the direction of the fortress. A brisk jog would probably get him to the base of the walls in about fifteen minutes or so, he figured.
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ShockHelix
Administrator
Deity of Death
No mercy for the weak. No pity for the dying. No tears for the slain.
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Post by ShockHelix on Dec 1, 2019 1:15:24 GMT -5
Sraz wanted nothing more then to get off this hellhole of a planet. Nothing more then to leave, and go gamble his earnings for this job at The Wheel. Maybe put a bounty on that bastard Klint as well. He grinned as he imagined some bounty hunter disintegrating an unsuspecting Klint, tightening one of the bolts on his arm. The Gank rose from his seat in the abandoned Imperial Armory, flexing his cybernetic arm to make sure all the servos were working. He'd managed to get one of the abandoned BT X-42's nozzles and fit it into his arm. It wouldn't have nearly as much fuel, but he'd seen a Mandalorian shoot fire out of a wrist mount once. Hopefully he'd have a chance to use it if another Bane Back Spider found it's way into the stronghold.
The spiders had taken down four of his men on the treck to the Stronghold. He'd been bleeding men left and right, and there wereonly about twenty now, trying to guard an entire imperial stronghold while they waited for evac. Another two had died to a lesser Nydak attack. One idiot had eaten some of the local fruit, 'Brula Fruit', and went mad, hallucinating and screaming about undead nightmares. He'd taken two men down before his throat had been slit. A Rancor had taken down twelve men on it's own, and they hadn't even killed the thing, hiding out for three days for it to move on. The worst of it had been losing the ships. One to that traitor Klint, another to a Nydak Alpha attack, and the worst had been the twenty men he'd sent with their remaining freighter to go after Klint. They hadn't even been off the ground for a minute before a Chirodactyl tore into them, crashing the ship. He didn't bother sending anyone to look for survivors, and none had shown up.
The sound of Jotal's voice came over his comm, and the Gank grumbled at the sound. "Sraz sir, there's -" Sraz cut the Nikto off quickly, resolving to kill him if he slipped up again. "What did I say about comms!" Smartly, no reply came, but after a minute Jotal entered the armory, the distinctive sound of the imperial door sliding out of his way resounding through the armory.
"Sorry. It's encrypted so I don't see what the problem is." Sraz considered punching the Nikto in the face, but restrained himself. He had to be careful. There may not be a way off the planet, but he wouldn't put a mutiny past some of his men. He was short enough on them already, wouldn't do if he had to kill off half of what he had left.
"Jotal. Think. If someone picks it up, they'll know we're here." Truth be told, Sraz wasn't sure that the local Dathomirians even had that kind of technology. He'd done a little bit of research before coming on this job, and he didn't like anything of what he'd heard. Witches. Savages. Best not to give anyone a reason to come knocking. Strangely enough, there'd been mention of their mercenary group having some kind of early ties to Dathomir, though the details were vague enough he couldn't be certain of anything but it dating back to the Clone Wars.
"Sorry Sraz. Picked something up on the radar though. Our ride might finally be here!"
Sraz sighed and shook his head. Their luck wasn't that good, and they hadn't received any transmissions from the rest of Crimson Dawn or their employers. Best to play it safe for now. "If it was our ride, don't you think they'd have said something by now? Alert the men, get on your posts."
"Sir?"
"Do it. We can't be the only ones after the package."
"What should we do sir?"
Sraz grimaced, and grabbed one of the long range Imperial E-11's off the wall of the armory, making sure it was loaded. "If it isn't our employer, and it isn't one of ours. THEN SHOOT THEM!" He slammed the blaster into Jotul's hand, and the Nikto rushed out of the room, grasping the blaster. They knew not to stick around when Sraz's anger flared up, though it was going to be the death of him one day. Sighing, he turned back to the weapon rack, working on picking out a weapon for his own use. They'd had enough mishaps on this planet. Sraz wasn't going to trust anything at this point.
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ThreeDawg
Administrator
Voice of the Wastes
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Post by ThreeDawg on Dec 3, 2019 8:40:39 GMT -5
Bruzac, Yela and their Lantillian shuttle cruised low over the dry rocks of Dathomir. Thorn-heavy vine-like trees reached out to the sky, and Yela had an uneasy feeling that they intended to catch the shuttle despite their lack of motion. They kept the shuttle close to the thorns, so as not to disturb too much of the dusty sediment with their wake. Cracks between the rocky shelves sheltered fetid swamps and unknown horrors, and then the vines became thinner and the cracks shallower. A great mesa stretched out before them, cracked and broken as all things on this desolate planet seemed to be. A metallic shape flashed by within one of the deeper ravines, and Yela realised it was likely a downed ship.
Sparse foilage broke the red sandstone of this mesa, and in the distance Yela spotted a single solitary structure. Solid and modern, this was no ancient ruin or scavangers compound, but an Imperial compound. As they neared and the haze of heat and distance cleared, buildings and a perimeter wall formed. There were no signs of typical Imperial occupation. No walkers, no shuttles, yet this was likely the origin of the encrypted comms.
Bruzac had picked up on Yela's unease, "It would have been nice for your contact to inform us of the connections of this artefact to the Imperials." he buzzed.
"Not my contact." Yela grumbled, but couldn't help admit it would've been useful information. Had she known, she wouldn't have put them both at such risk for the sake of a little adventure. A little spark of life.
"We can't risk landing inside the walls." Bruzac continued, accustomed to his Padawans small grumbles by now. "We will need to approach the wall on foot."
"Should we hail them?" Yela asked, readying their communication array on a broad-band frequency. It created a crackle, issuing the signal of intent across the bands.
"No, they're hiding here for a reason. They won't want to talk to strangers, but perhaps they'll think differently face-to-face." Bruzac replied, and Yela cut off the comms again.
Bruzac brought the shuttle down half a kilometre from the compound walls, close enough to get a good view and far enough to by shy of standard blaster fire. For awhile, he stared off at the durasteel. His smallest eyes blinking and focusing in the red-tinged light of Dathomir. Yela followed his gaze, and noticed the claw-marks and scarring that marked the perimeter. Would there even be a shuttle to return to, or would theirs end up like the one she had seen on approach. Yela downed the engines, and span her co-pilots seat to Bruzac.
"We're still going to just talk to them?" She said, although by now it was far too late to try for stealth.
"Yes." Noticing her concern, he continued, "We're going to pretend we know what we're doing here."
Yela turned, eyeing the stark walls that stood out from the broken landscape, "You think you're that much of a charmer that you can get us in there?"
"No." Bruzac buzzed, "But you are." he chimed merrily. Yela turned wide-eyed back to her Master, who rose and walked towards the back of the shuttle. She followed, and was startled when a dark brown robe was thrown to her. "Most will not negotiate with me. They look down upon the Talz." He donned his own robe, thickly built and dark rimmed. He drew the hood over his features, and Yela was met with a very imposing figure. He stood near three metres tall, towering even most Wookiees. Built heavily and thick, the black robes emphasised the stockyness of his shape. He was intimidating, and he knew it. That would be his ploy. "Charm them into opening their doors, find out what they have, work from there. I will be beside you. Remember Padawan, trust in the force. Trust in yourself, you have no need to fear."
She threw the robes over her own clothes, and caught a glimpse of her dark self in the reflective surfaces of the shuttle. She pulled the hood over her face, and looked as the planet felt. She fondled at the lightsaber just beneath the folds of the robe, clearing its way if she needed to summon it quickly. The kyber hummed warmly to her touch, something she felt through the force more than her fingertips. It steadied her nerves, and she lowered the shuttle doors.
She stepped out into the dust, and the great Talz behind her followed. Together, they walked calmly and with determination towards the compound. Her heart beat heavily in her chest between every step.
Trust in the Force.
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Post by Zenios on Dec 16, 2019 15:58:40 GMT -5
Dare had snuck to within a few hundred meters of the compound when he heard the whine of engines. Thinking quickly, he pressed himself up tight against one of the small trees he'd been using as cover. Satisfied he was at least mostly concealed, he turned his eyes skyward to try and identify the source of the noise. It didn't appear that the mercs in the compound had scrambled a ship to come and blast him into oblivion, so that was something of a relief. He wasn't naive enough to think his little brush with the Force presence earlier had gone unnoticed, but the lack of palpable response certainly reinforced the idea that it was an artifact of some sort. A Force user would almost certainly have said something to the less aware lackeys nearby or else set out to dispatch Dare themselves. Reaching out and brushing the tangle of threads again, he was sure that that malevolent presence hadn't moved. It wasn't an immediate threat, at least; he still had a ways to go before he was near the compound.
Forcing his attention back towards the more immediate concern, it didn't take too much longer for Dare to scan the horizon and finally spot the ship. It was some kind of shuttle, maybe, though it was hard to tell given his admittedly limited knowledge of starship models. It was flying low to the ground, presumably to avoid attracting too much undue attention, and headed towards the compound at a steady clip. Reaching out and examining the threads connecting him to the occupants, hopefully without disturbing them too much, Dare picked up on just the barest of surface feelings. He noted that while one was calm, the other was rather uneasy. Nothing too surprising, nothing to suggest to Dare that he'd been made. He retracted his awareness, content to watch and see if the ship continued on patrol or set down within the compound.
What did surprise him, though, was when the shuttle set down a few moments later, maybe half a klick outside the walls. He was probably about as far from the shuttle as he was from the outpost, safely away from a direct line between the two. Well, on the off chance they were going to try to flush him out, at least he could flee without being driven towards the outpost. He reached out to the pair again, this time with a different goal in mind. He tugged on their awarenesses just slightly, barely more than a reassuring brush. It was, he figured, about as unobtrusive a telepathic "Hello, there" as one might manage, and he could garner a good amount of information based on their reactions to it.
He almost immediately realized that, gathering information or not, trusting in the Force or not, announcing his presence was still probably a rather stupid decision. Mercs and the like weren't likely to be in tune enough with the Force to pick up on his presence, so no harm there, but he'd been sent here to find some sensitive data that any Force user interested in spreading their teachings--or just recruiting valuable Force-sensitive muscle to their cause--might call priceless. To not immediately assume that the shuttle's occupants were Force users unaffiliated with the outpost's occupants as soon as it landed short of the facility was a pretty serious gaffe on his part, a hole in his defenses. It was exactly the kind of mistake one might make after years away from the shadowy side of Jedi business.
Well, he supposed, it was a little too late to do anything else now. Dare adjusted his position slightly, rotating around the tree to provide himself a little more cover from the shuttle while he awaited a reaction one way or the other.
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