Great Mandalorian Rebellion RP (Page 1 of 2)

Name: Nehutyc Vren
Race: Human/Mandalorian
Beskar: Mediate plate mandalorian armor, black with gold trim and white accents (Image pending) Wrist and calf plates are composed of vrikk for engagements with enemies using energy weapons E.G. lightsabers, energy whips, beam rifles, most blasters. Heartbeat sensor integrated into buyce near rangefinder. Wrist mounted wire cable, as well as a tactical pad on left forearm, and a tactical trauma kit embedded into the right forearm, slides up and back to elbow to reveal several stimulant packages to fight through the pain. Modified Buyce links up with tactical pad for labeling of enemies on the Buyce's HUD in real time, in some cases through wals and cover depending on the strength of the heartbeat sensor. Torso embedded holodisplay emitter on upper right side of chest plate
Gender: Male
Height/Weight: 5"11; 181 lbs.
Appearance: Tan skin; sleek, strong, angled facial structure; slender build; brown eyes; black buzzed hair. ( i havem't been able to upload any of my drawings, so this will have to suffice for now)
Occupation: Bounty Hunter/document forge artist.
VoC: Heavily Modifed N-1 Naboo Starfighter boarded aboard a Concular Class Corvette Cruiser. (also modifed. most notably the salon pod at the front being removed for a SMALL hangar) Specifications to be posted at a later date.
WoC: DXA8 Heavy Carbine Blaster, DL-14 Outback Blaster Pistol, and a vrikk edged machete holstered in a sheath on left hip.

      Nehutyc Vren wasn't a renowned bounty hunter, but he did do well for himself between that and his "artwork". Using his skills to, for the most, part further his own agenda. Vren had never intended to become so concentrated on just the numbers, but he found himself at some point, he couldn't remember quite when, but just giving up on focusing on the details. He shuffled uncomfortably as the idea of becoming a cold and calculated assassin crossed his mind. Only ever caring about the size of his bank account. He shook off the feeling though and pressed on through the lower levels of Coruscant, even tossing a twi'lek down on his luck a 100 credit chit. Picking up his pace he reminded himself he had a contract to complete, and once again the image of a darker him popped into his mind. Vren's contact had pointed him to a cantina on Coruscant's lower levels, some place called "Talia's Place". He continued walking through the city, until the blare of a siren pulled him away from his thoughts. Only several meters from where Nehutyc stood sparks shot out of a neon sign. smoke poured out of the entrance of a cantina, but not just any cantina. The distressed sign read "Talia's Place". "Damn!" Vren shouted, rushing off toward's the door Vren noticed something odd about the fire reacuemen. "HALT!" The rescuemen held an E-11 blaster rifle chest level at Vren. Thats when it hit him, these were imperial soldiers. The soldier barked on "The owner and several patrons of this cantina have been identified as rebels. For security purposes I'm going to need to see some identification." The man must have been stark mad. Not many stood up to a fully armed Mandalorian, fewer tried to take anything from them. Nehutyc whipped out his pistol, it now aimed directly ag the center of the storm trooper's visor. "Hows that for identification?" He said, ice driping off his words. The storm trooper simply lowered his rifle and made a gesture with his arm behind his back. Three more troopers set off in a jog, blasters raised at Vren. "How about that identification" The trooper asked, his hand extended...

Vren reluctantly holstered his pistol, then reached into one of his pockets and withdrew his Identification passport. He'd never crafted a fake one for himself, he had never really needed to. He briefly made a mental note to do so as soon as he got off this rock.
    "Nehutyc Vren, bounty hunter, al around handy man. I'm currently pursuing a target who was last seen at this cantina. If you'd be so kind as too..." Before vren could continue the Imperial cut him off, "Not so fast there, you're going to need to be detained and interrogated until we can be assured that you have not ties with the rebellion. Men."
    The Imperial soldier stepped back and raised his rifle once more, "Any resistance would be unwise." The soldier continued.
    That was it. Nobody, absolutely nobody would get in the way of his contract. Not today at the least. Vren lunged forward, his vrikk edged machete already in hand and plunged it into the trooper before a pin could drop. Whirling around to face the other three troopers, his pistol finding its way into his hand instictively.
    The world seemed to slow around him as adrenaline coursed through his body. Vren counted the shots, each of them seeming to take forever to meet their targets. But Vren knew in reality he'd placed each shot within a fraction of a second after the other.Blasting down the troopers before they knew what had eve happened.
    Vren grinned, but from behind his t shaped visor like a sliver of midnight, nobody could see anything but another mandalorian holstering his weapon.
    The moment didn't last long though. Remembering why he'd come here Vren jogged through the front door of the cantina. His trusty DXA8 in hand and his rangefinder, Vren began scanning the cantina for thermals.
   Just in the mainrom he could make out two signatures, probably Imps. But something was off, their signatures were weaker than they ought to be. Like something was masking them, the smoke perhaps. Or maybe new armor, he couldn't tell.
    Switching off his thermal he could see the blasing white of their armor. Taking aim, he dropped both in a matter of seconds. Continuing through the cantina he could tell that a firefight had only just recently taken place. The rebels must have fled which meant there was more than one exit.
   Searching through the dead he tried to find a match for his mark. He'd get les thaqn half of what the bounty was worth, but at least it was something.
   Finally he stumbled across what he'd been looking for, behind the cantina bar counter, sat crouched and whimpering a corellian. Vren's corelian. Vren shouldered his rifle and poised his wrist at the corellian. "Indo Drasten, I'm here to collect the bounty on you. Stand up and place your arms straight down at your side."
   Surprisingly, the man did as he was told. Vren fired his cable and watched as it wrapped round the man dropping him back to the ground with a thud.
   Vren couldn't help but to chuckle. Making his way round the bar, Vren collected the man and tossed him over his shoulder. The man was small enough that that carrying him in such a fashion wouldn't be too difficult.
   As Vren made his way for the door he heard the crunch of boot against debris on the floor. Dropping the bounty to the floor, Vren turned to the source of the noise, his rilfe once again in hand. There stood a Twi'Lek, adorned in a black cloak.
    She must've been one of the working girls, but there was something to her. She didn't seem frightened given what had happened. Not even scared that a Mandalorian held his weapon aimed at her.
    For the second time today, the usual fear inspired by the presence of Mandalorian warrior was absenst. Vren was beginning to get annoyed.
   "What are you doing here, who are you?" He questioned menacingly in attempt to intimidate this mysterious Twi'Lek. Who, he had noticed, was entirely unscathed despite the firefight that had just erupted in the bar.

Vren kicked an E-11 across the floor to the Twi'lek 'I could actually use some help getting out of here. No doubt there'll be reinforcements soon enough and I don't intend to go down in a blaze of gunfire. Not to mention I've got to drag this bounty back to Nal Hutta. You don't frighten easy. Thats a good thing. So how about it? I'll drop you off wherever you're headed in exchange for another gun at my side."
    Vren tumbled the thought of help around in his mind. He didn't usually see himself asking for it. His father had always tought him to trust in his own abilities. The idea of actually needing it was something that made him extremely uncomfortable. He'd be charging his contractor double, no triple for the expense of putting him in this position.
    Although Vren truly lnew it was his own fault for being stuck in his current predicament. Vren brushed the thought from his mind. His inner conflict seemed to grow explosively the further along this contract went.
    Vren gritted his teeth in frustration, until he once again became aware of the Twi'lek standing in front of him. She hadn't moved and as he began to wonder why, he noticed he was still aiming at her. "Sorry" He said, lowering his rifle. "Its a habit."

Vren admired this Twi'lek's intellect. Quickly dropping the bounty once again. "Tell me what you know. Or we're all dead" Drasten's breathing was heavy, indicating that Vren would need to be more careful with his bounty. 
    Finally regaining his breath, Indo looked up at Vren "Whats the matter, scared of a few imperials? The corellian chuckled to himself as though he'd made a small victory.
    "I'm in no mood for games" Vren pressed, his voice growing louder and his carbine now pressed into Drasten's ribs. "Ok! Ok, ok. At the back left corner of the cantina the seat flips back to a set of stairs that lead into the old sewer system."
   Not wasting any time, Vren snatched Indo up and strode over to the hidden exit, flipping the seat back, and sure enough, a small set of stairs laid before Vren leading down into the dark dank of what Vren guessed was indeed a long unused sewer.
    Nehutyc looked back at the Twi'lek. "Ladies first" He uttered, gesturing towards the stairs with his hand.

Name: Ralin Drakus

Species: Human

Age: 25

Appearance: 5'11'' Lean athletic build. Short crop of dark brown hair with the sides shaved high and tight. Lean face with an angular jaw. Many scars from combat as well as training across body, most on arms and chest

Personality: Cold and indifferent to most beings he meets, but possesses a friendly and even dry humor with those select few he is close to or who earn his trust

Occupation: Freelance Mercenary, sometimes accepts bounty hunting or assassination contracts.

Loyalties: To his Clan and Code. He and his clan are unaffiliated with any of the major players in Mandalorian politics that are currently attempting to gain power

Bio: Ralin is descended from an ancient line of Mandalorian warriors. Some of the earliest humans recorded in Mandalorian history were members of Aliit Drakus. Clan Drakus has traditionally had very strong ties to the ancient Crusader Code that was dominant in Mando culture before the Mandalorian Wars 4,000 years BBY, and Ralin is no exception. His belief in the Manda and code-bound mission to gain honor through combat are as strong in him as any of his ancestors, despite the rarity of such such beliefs of his people today. Ralin's father Konnar was one of the Cuy Valdar, the famed training sergeants of the Clone Wars era Commandos and ARC troopers. Unbeknownst to Konnar his wife had become pregnant just before his departure for Kamino and had died in childbirth. When word finally reached him, Konnar abandoned his post just prior to the Clone Wars to raise his son. Little is known of the Drakus Clan since that time as they all boarded their heavily modified assault frigate and assorted fighters and starships and disappeared. Only in the last year did Ralin return alone, his armor painted black with the traditional red chevron upon his breastplate indicating leadership of his Aliit. He has taken several mercenary and bounty hunting contracts since his return, and has a growing reputation for his cold efficiency and effectiveness

Weapons: Custom long barrel sniper rifle (imagine a Star Wars version of an M-14); Matching Mandalorian heavy blaster pistols(strapped to legs Jango Fett style, but a little higher on his hips. Both pistols are of ancient Mandalorian design recovered from a Dxun storage cache); Jetpack mounted rocket/missile launcher, usually a high explosive warhead pre-loaded; Double edged dagger with 'brass knuckle' style grip sheathed horizontally on belt behind his back hidden under Kama.

Gauntlet mounted weapons/gadgets include: Dart/Rocket launcher; Interchangeable flamethrower or micro-grenade launcher (Ralin mounts the grenade launcher as his standard gear); Cutting laser and holdout blaster; A fiber-cord line with grappling hook for scaling/descending obstacles which can be mounted and fired from grenade launcher; Two-prong retractable18 inch blades in right gauntlet (like those used in the Predator movies); Personal cloaking device recovered from ancient weapons catch on Duxn; Gloves that deliver bio-impulse waves to the muscles giving enhanced strength

Armor: Black with red accents Mandalorian beskar armor over gray flightsuit ; Helmet possesses advanced targeting integration with Ralin's weapons and his ship's combat systems allowing him to have a sighting retical that is fully adjusted for range and movement of the target displayed on his helmet's HUD allowing for seemingly unaimed shots in directions Ralin doesn't appear to be looking; Flightsuit is a medium weight armor mesh resistant to heat and slashing attacks, Kama made from heavy leather treated for heat resistance that protect the back of the legs from blaster bolts and jetpack afterburners; Jet-pack painted black and gray (often stored aboard Ralin's starfighter until needed for a specific mission or visiting urban/inhospitable worlds where vertical maneuverability is likely to be needed); Sound sponges mounted into the heels of his armor plated boots so when activated absorb nearly all sound created from Ralin's heavy footfalls and the ancient spurs he wears

Ship: Blood Hawk - a modified StarViper Assault fighter; two of the original six laser cannons have been replaced with MassDriver cannons (which fire energized projectiles that pass through shields unhindered), the four long barreled laser cannons remaining have been modified sacrificing rate of fire for massive destructive impact, two ion cannons mounted in the chin of the starfighter to disable fleeing starships; the living quarters are spartan at best, with a simple bunk and hygiene essentials for himself, and two sealed prisoner stasis capsules (simple bunks that are enclosed in shatterproof plexi and equipped with restraint cuffs and Intra Venus (IV) med units for medicating and/or sedating bounty captures for a guaranteed quite transport) that are large enough to transport a wookiee- sized being

"JOIN US! The time to restore Mandalorian independence is upon us! The Empire is offering ransoms and bounties for these pathetic Rebels that could fund a nation! Our Nation! A MANDALORIAN NATION! Why should the bounties of a generation be squandered by alien hunters and those of our own with no vision to use it? We can bring back the GLORY of our ancestors and return the power that is rightfully ours to this planet! And with your help we shall! The Deathwatch is calling! Answer! And you shall know true glory!" The ranting never ceased these days. If it wasn't one faction promoting their choice for Mandalore, leader of all the clans, than it was a pack of mercs standing at a street corner begging people to join.

The Deathwatch recruiter continued with his lies, knowing nothing of his ancestors or what true honor or glory is. Ralin straightened himself from the wall he'd been leaning against across the market plaza. The holonet hub he'd ventured into the market to access had confirmed his most recent payment. The gray overcast above promised rain, making the dirty cobble stone street of the market seem all the darker, and the ancient stone structures surrounding the Keldabe plaza seemed abandoned and lifeless. The Deathwatch banners snapped in the wind around the table where recruiters tried to argue the righteousness of their cause to the handful of spectators who bothered to stand around. None in the crowd seemed overly interested. Only Ralin and the Deathwatch were even wearing armor. The recruiters were in full battle gear to display their prowess and attempt to impress the masses. Ralin couldn't help but notice how there wasn't so much as a scratch on any of them. He snorted in disdain behind his own black T-Visor.

A crack of thunder broke across the Mandalorian afternoon sky, and seemed to signal the end of the recruiting for the day. The five Deathwatch Mandos began to move their flags and gear indoors. Ralin made his way down a narrow alley to the tavern he frequented.
Once this wouldnt have been anyplace special to Mandalore. Like all inns, taverns, bars, and even restaurants contracts could have been found posted somewhere in the establishment, booths and tables of a private setting were easy to find, and the barkeep knew what gossip to pass and what questions not to ask. Ralin's father had told him many stories of his home world and the best places to frequent when looking for a certain contract. Much had changed in the last generation however. Only the oldest and seediest parts of Keldabe still catered to the hunters of their society. Ralin still remembered the disgust he felt when he landed at the starport and saw the pacifists lining some of the walkways, holding holosigns protesting all those who were clad in the armor of their forefathers, yelling that war and fighting would only bring more misery to Mandalore. Had the home world of the greatest warriors in all the galaxy truly been reduced to this? Ralin sighed deeply as the barkeep brought a stiff Corellian whiskey to his corner booth.

A youth entered the tavern, a heavy military canvas duffle bag hung over his shoulder.  His skin was dark from what looked like hard laboring in the sun, his form thin but corded in lean muscle; Ralin could even make out the white of calluses on his hands, and a bulge under his rough out tunic that might have been the butt of a blaster pistol.  His clothes were worn and ragged, leather boots covered in dirt not from the city. He stopped at the bar and ordered a drink. He seemed weary, tired beyond his years though he appeared no older than Ralin himself. Despite the dim lighting, he spied battle scared helmet that rested on the table beside Ralin. He seemed to hesitate for a moment, but made his way to the corner booth. Ralin sat relaxed, one hand toying with the glass in front of him, the other resting on the grip of his holstered blaster.

"Beggin your pardon, you mind if a I take a seat?"

Ralin's eyes narrowed on the man for a long moment, but then wordlessly nodded to the opposite side of the booth opposite himself.

"Thanks. I don't mean to intrude, my name is Valok, Valok Haal."  Before taking his seat Valok carefully placed his bag down on the floor beside the booth.  Ralin caught the faint clank of Beskar plates.

Ralin slumped back in his seat, relaxing and keeping his blaster aimed squarely at the youth's abdomen. "What can I do for you Valok Haal?"

*Let me know if this works for you Rev; I'll edit as necessary*

The Mandalorian didn’t say anything but he shoved Indo forward, he emphasised his point with the barrel of his blaster.

Naya smirked, “Ah good. You can be toast for the next round.”

They walked another 20 metres before the next trap sprung to life. This time it was electrical arcs that sizzled from the walls. The problem was that Indo was on the other side of it when it began.

The Mandalorian cursed in a few choice native words and charged after Indo as the trap fizzled out. Naya kept up the pace, but was sure to be two steps behind. Fortunately Indo tripped over and fell heavily to the stone floor.

As the Mandalorian yanked Indo to his feet, Naya was able to see a faint glow. “It looks like there’s something up ahead.”

**Sorry for the short post, it's late here...**

((will do Valthonin. And I'm so glad to finally see more people posting here. Apologies for my tardiness, mid terms ))

   Vren looed upwards, his grip on his mark firm. The Twi'lek spoke truly. There was a faint glow ahead. "Can't be that easy." he muttered to himself.   
   Thinking quickly, Vren pinned Indo to the ground with one powerful arm, while the other ripped off his boots. The Corellian cried out "What the frak 're you doin" Vren did't reply, simply hoisting Indo up and tossing him back towards the Twi'lek who readied her rifle in alarm.
   "He moves shoot him dead" He instructed the Twi'lek. Honestly he hoped she wouldn't, but the situation's novelty had long worn off, as if at had ever existed at all.
   Vren tossed one boot forward and watched as it tumbled across the floor, resting finally before sinking slightly. Another pressure plate. The people who'd constructed this passage certainly lacked any form of creativity.
    Once more fire sprung from the wall. Before moving tough, Vren tossed the other boot, several meters ahead of the last boot. Well what was left of it now. Once again the floor sank and at first it semed nothing would happen.
   Vren listened closely, for a mechanism to clink into place or something to happen. He didn't hear anything. From his tactical wrist pad Vren upped the pickup on his helmet's audio monitors. He could now hear Indo's heartbeat, and something else. A digital whirring of sorts.
   Vren pondered where he'd heard that sound before. The thought brought him to action throwing Indo down to the ground and diving himself. "Themal dets! to the floor!" The Twi'lek dropped to the ground and then all was silent.
   But he felt the area around him rumble though. Vren could only a ringing and warm thick something dripped down each side of his neck.
   Vren tried to speak but couldn't hear a word. The blast must have damaged his hearing.
   Vren would worry about it later, a hole had appeared in now collapsed tunnel ceiling and light poured through it.
(was hoping to finish this beofre I had to head in to work. No dice. )

Vren couldn't hear a thing, it was bad. Hopefully bacta would be able to heal the damage. His price for the return on this jounty was going to be astronomicaly high.
   Vren turned his attention from the Twi'lek to the Deathwatch soldiers. He held a hand up to turn their attention to him. He didn't know what they were saying, but he could tell they probably weren't to happy about the hole in their floor.
   Noticing the majority of their attention focused on him he began to speak, he did't know if he was even speaking ellegibly, but he figured it was worth a shot. "Vv-vren." He managed before collapsing.
   The light 'round him seemed to evaporate into nothingness, warmth flooded through him before he went entirely numb and slipped out of conciousness.
   When he regained conciousness the first thing he could discern was that he wasn't touching the ground. He could also hear. His eyes shot open and his head swiveled frantically.
    He was submerged into water. No it wasn't water. "Bacta" He murmured in thought. Relieved he could once again hear his own voice. Apparenty he wasn't the only one who could hear him speaking.
   The al too familiar black T of a Mando visor popped into view. At first Vren couldn't make out the rest of the helmet, it gradually came into focus against the metallic silver of the rest of the room.
   "Bacta isn't cheap ya know" A voice that seemed to float into Vren's ears said. It took him a second to connect the voice to the figure before him. "But then again neither are soldiers with such" The voice paused. "Unique skills as yours." There was definitely emphasis on the word unique.
   Vren wondered what skills the voice was referring too. Everything seemed to take too long to click into place. Like a shroud hung over everything, and had to be torn away to be understood. Vren tried to shift amidst the tank but couldn't seem to get anything rom doing so.
   "Disorientation wil be normal for afew hours, but it will wear off." The voice coninued. "Don't worry you can pay us back as son as we get a computer under those craty hands of yours"
   The picture finaly emerged before Vren. The voice was talking about his ability to "retrieve" creds.
   Before Vren could make an protest, warmth flowed once more through him and his eyelids dropped as if under a great pressure. His muscles loosened up and he once again dropped out of conciousness.
   When next he awoke, he was on his back in a darkened room. A more thorough investigation of his whereabouts revealed he was on a small bunk. Sitting up and swingin his feet over the side of the bunk, Vren stood up and frther looked about.
   After finding the locker and his armor inside he drssed silently as he could, and began to search about for his weapons. Much to his disappointment he could not. Making his way to the door at the corner of the small room he pounded the open button in annoyance. 
    The door flew upwards. Lighted surged into the room blinding Vren for a moment. There in the dorway before Vren stood a silouhette.

**Sorry for the double post, but here's the next part I wanted to write...**

Naya was led to a small but well set out room. It was clear that the Mandalorians stayed at the building regularly, although the place looked more like a basic motel room rather than any sort of permanent living quarters.

"So do you guys live here?" Naya asked as Gripp was about to leave.

He shook his head, "I don't and most of the others don't. This is just temporary accommodation while we seek out others to join our cause."

"And what cause is that?" Naya asked warily.

Gripp turned to face her, his face was still hidden by his silver helmet with orange highlights. "It is our goal to restore true order to Mandalore, by whatever means necessary."

Naya managed to hide the shudder than ran down her spine at the cold tone of Gripp's words. "So is Vren part of the Deathwatch?"

"If he knows what's good for him. The leaders will expect some sort of repayment for the use of the Bacta tank," Gripp stated.

"How long do you think he'll be in there for?" Naya queried, eager to change the subject from Deathwatch.

Gripp shrugged, "Probably no more than a day. I suggest you take the opportunity to rest." He moved to the door and gave her a once over, "In the meantime, I'll see if I can find some more suitable clothes for you."

He was gone before she could make comment on that. Hopefully more suitable meant the clothes who be made of more cloth rather than less.

-

Naya felt that she'd only just closed her eyes when there was a chime of the doorbell. She sat up, stretched and then quickly rearranged her cloak before opening the door. A young female Mandalorian stood at the door, in her armour but without the helmet. In her arms she held a pile of clothes.

The Mandalorian smiled, "Here," she said as she thrust the clothes into Naya's hands, "Gripp said you needed some new clothes. There are a couple of my old things there that might fit you."

Naya looked at the Mandalorian, she was a good head shorter than her. Somehow she had a feeling the pants were going to be too short. But she thanked her and went back into her room to try on the clothes.

As she suspected the cargo pants were on the short side, however Naya put her boots back on and tucked in the pant legs so no one would be the wiser. She put on the long sleeved t-shirt which again was too short in the sleeve department and a little too tight across her bust. Luckily the Mandalorian girl had also supplied her with a vest which partly hid the overly tight shirt.

She left on the decorative lekku socks that covered the majority of her headtails. They didn't match anything she wore except the boots, since both contained silver highlights. Naya refused to take of the lekku socks anywhere but in the privacy of her own space. Her right lek was horrendously scarred. She shuddered as the image of "The White Wall" came to mind. That particular Mandalorian was a psycho butcher. She hoped never to cross paths with him again.

At that moment the door chimed again. She answered it to see Gripp once more, "Vren's awake."

The grubby looking Sullustan stared at his brother dumbly, "What do you mean we're losing altitude?" Naska whined.

"Look at the readout, moron. We're falling out of the sky," Truska, Naska's brother, growled back.

"Who are you calling a moron, moron!" Naska spat back.

"Stop arguing and help me land this bucket before the witch gets ticked off," Truska snapped.

Naska dove for the co-pilot chair, "Good point, I'd hate her to zap me again."

"Again? What the frag did you do this time? Oh never mind. Just help me get this thing down in one piece." Truska said as he frantically adjusted controls.

The two brothers fought to keep the ship from burning up in the atmosphere, "What's the read out on the thrusters?" Truska shouted.

"Up to shi..." Naska started, "Wait, one is okay. The other is fried."

"Great, just great. We can crash lopsided, fantastic." Truska spat and he continued to fight the ship down.

Naska shrugged, "Think of it as falling with style."

"You really are a moron," Truska snarled as he watched the flames of re-entry die off. "I see trees, lots and lots of trees. Where's a frick'n clearing when you want one!"

Naska pushed up on his tippy toes, while in his seat, to look out the view port, "Looks like there's a clearing up there."

"That's the ocean you fool!" Truska said as he tried to pull the ships nose up.

"Well you asked for a clearing, you never said if you wanted it on land." Naska pouted.

Truska glared at his brother for a moment, "I swear you were adopted."

"Bah, you're just jealous that you missed out on the good looks," Naska said as he folded his arms.

"Good looks! Grab the controls, you fool. Damn it, you didn't get the brains that's for sure." Truska hissed.

Naska immediately went back to his duties, "Sorry bro, didn't mean to let go."

Truska snorted, "We're nearly down." He flicked on the internal com, "We're going down. Strap in or hold onto something. This is going to be a bumpy ride."

"Do you think the witch will toast you or me over this?" Naska asked.

Truska threw a brief glare at him, "Just shut up already and pay attention."

"Okay, okay, but where are we again?" Naska asked.

"Mandalore, as instructed by the witch." Truska said as the first tree tops scratched the belly of the ship.

"Why'd she want to come to Mandalore for?" Naska asked, completely unfazed by the situation.

"Shopping? How the frag should I know. I just fly the ship and get paid. Hopefully we're not about to get dead," Truska said as the ship got lower, larger branches were starting to hit the ship.

"Why didn't we land at the spaceport?" Naska queried as he looked out the view port.

"Because she wanted to come in undetected," Truska said between gritted teeth.

Naska's face scrunched up, "That's weird if she's only shopping."

Truska groaned, "You really have no clue about anything."

Naska frowned, "Well I know how to land a ship without crashing it. I seriously doubt this is the witch's version of discreet."

Truska wasn't able to say his piece as the ship finally hit a larger tree, spinning it out of control and into another tree. The ship continued to careen out of control until it finally hit one too many trees. Both Sullustans were out cold. Their passenger however, was not.

-

Name: Helena Torrel
Age: 34
Gender: Female
Species: Zeltron
Appearance: Short, her skin is a shade lighter than red with black hair and beautiful features. The outward beauty hides an inner ugliness. Helena is tainted by the dark side of the Force, however she is no Sith, merely a self taught Force user with a lot of anger issues. She wears a black bodyglove with a short maroon dress over the top. Generally she wears a dark burgundy cloak over the top.
Force Powers: Choke, Force Lightening, Speed, Push and Pull.
Weapons: Collapsible staff and two small blaster pistols
Purpose: To help the Deathwatch "persuade" high up officials to bend to their ways.

((Warning adult content in this rather long post!!))

The wildlife in the forest was silent as the ship sat smouldering. The ship was making a clicking noise due to the heat and damage that had stretched its metal skin. Suddenly the outer door blew off with extreme force.

From the torn opening came a petite woman of only five feet. Helena stepped out of the ship with the grace of a big cat. Her head pivoted from side to side, analysing her surroundings with cold calculation.

Her mood was dark, being a Zeltron also meant she was naturally empathic and she had picked up on the annoyed feelings the Sullustan brothers had been emitting. She’d allowed herself to delve into the emotions to feed the dark power of the Force within her.

Now out of the ship, Helena pulled a datapad from her cloak pocket and activated it. There was a message from the Deathwatch master. Her job was to track down several high profile detractors from the Deathwatch cause and either scare or kill them. Apparently she’d been given the more subtle jobs to do. The out in the open and get your hands bloody jobs had been delegated to the master’s right hand man: Dun Gorah aka The White Wall.

Helena smiled darkly, she’d like to meet this Dun Gorah. His emotions would surely feed her power to new heights. Plus there could be side benefits, be they on the battlefield or in the bedroom.

Helena smirked and looked at her first quarry fact sheet. His name was Algath Potrone. He was a high profile reporter who had repeatedly bagged out the Deathwatch and had been slowly undermining their credibility. He needed to be silenced and it needed to be permanent. Direct murder wouldn’t do but Helena had something more sinister in mind.

She turned off the datapad and turned back to the ship. Raising her hands she summoned the Force and pulled a large chunk of the ship’s hull apart. With the chunks held in mid-air Helena threw them to the side to expose her speeder bike. Stepping through the wreckage, Helena mounted her speeder and headed to Keldabe.

-

The sky was fading to black as Helena reached Keldabe. The sky had been filled with darkening clouds which blocked out the distant stars that were trying to shine through the dwindling sunlight. Helena was to go to a bar that Algath Potrone frequented called “The Drink Easy” which was located only two blocks away from Potrone’s apartment.

Thunder echoed through the sky, yet the storm was still some distance away. Helena left her cloak on in case the need to stay dry from a future storm arose. With the speeder parked safely away, Helena strode to “The Drink Easy” with a seductive sway of her hips.

She confidently made her way into the bar with a sultry glance around the place. She spotted Potrone’s thin figure and mop of blonde hair immediately and made her way towards him. She waited until she had his attention and then shifted her path to the bar stools instead. As she sat down, she ensured that her cloak draped behind her and that her stockinged legs were exposed for Potrone’s viewing.

From her research Helena knew that Potrone was something of a player. He liked one night stands and easy conquests. Commitment was a dirty word as far as he was concerned and he had even been quoted saying so.

Zeltrons were often considered one of the most alluring humanoid species around and Helena knew there weren’t a great deal of them in this part of Keldabe. Chances were that Potrone would want to add a Zeltron to the notches on his bedpost.

The bartender had just approached her when Potrone moved to the stool beside her. “I’ll have a Rodian Twist,” Helena told the bartender and reached for her credits.

Potrone’s hand covered hers, “Allow me to pay.” He said with a smile that was supposed to be warm and welcoming.

Helena smiled back, “Well thanks.” She caught the bartender rolling his eyes from the edge of her vision. Clearly Potrone did this a lot.

“My pleasure, I’m a regular and I like to make sure any new comers feel right at home here.” His hand lingered on hers a moment longer, then his fingers brushed lightly against the back of her hand as he pulled away.

They began chatting and Potrone continued to buy her drinks. Apparently he didn’t know that alcohol didn’t affect Zeltrons nearly as much as it did humans. Before long he was touching her shoulder in conversation, then her hand and finally on her thigh.

Potrone’s desire was very evident to Helena. She let it feed her own emotions which she then sent back at him, increasing his want. His fingers reached the hem of her skirt and slowly moved upward. Helena caught his hand and brought the tips of his fingers to her lips. “It’s getting hot in here, don’t you think?” she said as she nibbled each of his fingers.

Potrone let out a deep breath at her touch, “Yes, it certainly is. Would you like to come to my apartment? It’s air conditioned.”

Helena bit her lip and gave a coy look, “Sure that sounds great.” She took his hand and let him lead her out of the bar. She had to hide a satisfied smile as this was exactly what she wanted him to do.

They walked hand in hand to his apartment block, rode up the elevator giving each other hot looks, but it wasn’t until they were in Potrone’s apartment that he pounced. Helena was as worked up as he was. Feeding off his emotions had only heightened hers and she fully intended on getting as much pleasure as she could from Potrone before she killed him.

Potrone had her cloak and her dress off when she pushed away from his kiss. The thunder outside was getting louder and distant lightening was brightening the night sky. “Let’s go to the rooftop, I’ve always wanted to do it outside when it’s raining.”

Potrone grinned as he re-buttoned his shirt, “Sure, let’s go.”

Helena remained in her black body glove as they made their way to the rooftop. As Helena expected, no one was around. She took the opportunity to shed the remainder of her clothes. Potrone did the same. They embraced, kissed and came together as one as the thunder boomed and the rain started.

Once it was over, Helena lay sated on the rooftop ledge as Potrone moved off her panting. “Was it good for you?” Helena asked with a cryptic smile.

Potrone grinned as he pulled on his pants and shirt, “You know it was.”

Helena shifted into a sitting position. “Good,” she grinned as her face took on a demonic smirk. She raised her hands just as lightening lit the sky. Lightening also shot from her fingers as she electrocuted Potrone. She watched as he writhed like a fish pulled from the water. When she stopped he dropped like a sack of wet sand. He was very much dead. Helena threw her head back, closed her eyes and let out a satisfied sigh. She’d had a very good time.

((I can edit this if too rauchy. I wanted to show just what a cold killer this character is.))

"Outstanding."
Dun Gorah wiped his mouth with a napkin as he lowered his spoon. After consuming three heaping helpings of Vhe'viin chili, Dun was now prepared for his task tonight. (Vhe'viin are small rodents native to Mandalore)

The chair creaked as it was released from the weight. No waiter came with the bill. The manager watched, sweating profusely, several feet behind Dun's table. He dare not go out of sight after the last visit.

"I believe the recipe is perfected. Where is the cook!?" Dun's voice boomed through the empty restaurant. All other patrons had fled.

"I'll fetch him right away, sir!" The manager stammered and scampered away into the kitchen.

Dun adjusted his armor. Turning his head, he peered out the window to view the storm once again. Lightening struck in the distance and flashed light into the dining hall of Fauna Foods. They had the best chili in town. Dun greatly enjoyed his food, and he looked forward to stuffing his face with the finest cuisine when his ambition takes him forward. He could be quite hedonistic when he wanted to.

From the window Dun could see his objective: A MandalMotors warehouse containing a brand new assault ship prototype. The buyers were arriving soon, and had paid a small fortune to have the opportunity to employ a state of the art assault ship for their cause. Dun's mission was to ensure the ship did not leave the warehouse. MandalMotors would soon be having a... change in management... and the prototype was highly prized.

"......." The cook had been standing beside Dun for some time. He gazed up at a hard jaw line and sleek black hair, and to eyes that seemed absorbed with something no one else could see.
"Sir you requested my-"

"Ah yes," The cook shuddered as Dun turned to him and looked him up and down with what would have surely been a look of disgust had Dun not enjoyed his meal so much. "The chili was superb, the best variation I've had thus far. I would kill you to ensure that none could pride themselves as I do now in eating it... however I have decided to return for more chili soon."

With that Dun took his helmet under his arm and strode out of the restaurant. The cook collapsed to the floor upon his departure.

------------------------------------------------------------------

Dun stood in front of the MandalMotors warehouse as three Death Watch soldiers approached him. They were his designated squad this mission. Many soldiers looked forward to being assigned "Wall Watchers" and accompanying Dun on his missions, as it usually involved sitting back and watching the beast at work.

"You're cloak has returned from repairs sir." Said one of the soldiers as he lifted a heavy, greyish white cape into view. Dun motioned towards his back and the soldier unfolded it, and clipped it onto Dun's helmet sized shoulders.

"The Rodian emissary arrived in Keldabe spaceport a few moments ago. Sources report he is on his way with his guard detachment. The scout reports 18 men, two squads of 9, blasters and heavy repeaters. 19 with the emissary." The solider detailed.

Dun nodded. "Child's play. Have you brought two weapons?"

"Yes sir." The other two soldiers revealed their haul. Each man had to carry a weapon and the cape because of their weight. Dun's cape was made of a durasteel allow inlaid with cortosis weave to defend against some blaster fire and extreme temperatures. It was his most defensive tool and his most expensive one at that. It required maintenance from time to time to restore it after numerous or particularly heavy battles.

One soldier handed Dun a gigantic double edged vibrosword that required two hands to wield. Running up the middle of the blade was an enhanced ultrasonic emitter that granted the blade added cutting ability. Dun took it and moved it to his back, where it magnetically held at his command.

The third soldier gave Dun his modified Mandalorian Heavy Blaster. The blaster had single and burst fire modes, with an enhanced module that granted added energy damage. Complete with an extended clip, the blaster was a formidable side arm.

Ready for battle, Dun briefed his squires. "The emissary is not to enter the warehouse. MandalMotors mustn't communicate with them, they are to be dispatched before the deal occurs. We evac, and the deed is done. The prototype never leaves the warehouse."

The soldiers confirmed their understanding.

"Do not get in my way." This point needed no stressing.

Dun looked up at the Keldabe skyline, the warehouse was on the outskirts of the city. The MandalMotors tower rose high, a notable edifice of the metropolis. Soon, Dun would be enjoying the view from its highest office.