Rebel Scum - IC
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		<h2 id="linktree">Play-By-Post: Bondage, D/s, S&amp;M =&gt; Bondage: Exotic Small Groups =&gt; Topic started by: RedEve on 29-12-2020, 19:43:05</h2>
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				Title: <strong>Rebel Scum - IC</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>RedEve</strong> on <strong>29-12-2020, 19:43:05</strong>
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				<strong><span style="font-size: 14pt;" class="bbc_size">Jakira D’han</span></strong><br><strong>Location:</strong> Sapphire's Shard, a nightclub on the outer edge of Tur, on the planet of Odund<br><strong>Tagged:</strong> Pantoriana Lelajan Kestrel<br><hr><div class="floatright">(https://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/7/7a/Jakira_post.jpg)</div>The Sapphire's Shard was far from the most sad-looking dive Jakira had ever been stuck waiting for a contact, not that the Tur-based nightclub was much to look at. To a certain extent, this kind of club existed on countless worlds, especially outside of the core worlds. Neon lights couldn’t quite hide the shabbiness that was likely very apparent when the place was closed. The clientele was a mix of races, ages and backgrounds, though all of them the wrong side of respectable. Some obviously involved in the mining business themselves. Others in the lucrative secondary economy that consisted of separating the miners from their credits. Booming music drowned out all conversation apart from what could be heard within an arms’ length, which also made it a welcome place to discuss things one might not want overheard. It was a long way from some of the upscale places she had gone to when she actually sought to unwind, on Zeltros, Coruscant, … Those times now felt like they had happened eons ago. A small cluster of tiny podiums had been scattered throughout the place, each of them containing a scantily clad, gyrating dancer. Some of them Twi’lek, a lone Zabrak and at least one human, as far as Jakira could tell. <br><br>In her current surroundings, Jakira was left nursing one of the most foul-tasting concoctions she had ever tasted, which the Weequay bartender had insisted was a local specialty called Branxu. Perhaps the fact that the location in question was a desolate rock that wouldn’t have attracted any sentient species were it not for its rich mineral reserves should have worked as a clue as to what kind of drink to expect. Thankfully, the locals weren’t stuck to only local fare to help unwind. Jakira was surprised to see a few patrons clearly tripping on Dreamsugar, the Hallucinogen which had taken the core worlds and inner rim by storm and now had spread throughout most of the galaxy. Jakira had tried it once or twice, but she didn’t like how it made her space out entirely for hours at a time, not a very good state of mind to be in when you were on the run from the Empire.<br><br>Jakira was there because some unknown party had need for a skilled and experienced splicer. She needed the credits, her reserves badly depleted having been living on the run for around a year now. She didn’t know what her contact looked like, her Chagrian fixer telling her merely that her ‘date’ would recognize her because she was sure to be the only Zeltron inside of the Shard. That had proven to be true. It also meant that each person who gave her the once over made her wonder if he or she might be who she was there to meet. Which, as a lone Zeltron in a backwater world dive, meant she had to swivel her head around almost every minute. And that was after she had found a more quiet place in a booth near the back of the main floor. She was thankful for the lack of Imperial presence inside of the Shard, at least outwardly so. She had left the Itchy Nexu some kilometers outside of Tur and had walked into the city. She wasn’t sure how well known her vessel was to Imperial trackers but she wasn’t about to risk it.<br><br>When she had downed the last dregs of her Branxu, a new arrival attracted her attention. She couldn’t quite say what exactly it was that made the woman stand out from the crowd, perhaps it was the way she moved or how other patrons seemed to clear a path for her almost as if on instinct. Certainly it was enough for Jakira to have the newcomer locked into her sights even before she started to move noticeably in her direction, though not yet making any overt glances towards her booth. Once the stranger started to make something of a beeline for where she was sitting, Jakira guessed that her wait might be over. She slipped her console out of her pocket though kept it hidden underneath the table, ready to transmit the security code that the fixer had provided them both with. If their codes matched, they each would know they had found the right person. Her eyes remained fixed onto the woman as she closed the final few meters to reach her booth.<br>
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				Title: <strong>Re: Rebel Scum - IC</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Annaamarth</strong> on <strong>29-12-2020, 23:25:41</strong>
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				<div class="floatright">(https://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/1/12/Redheadfantasybraid.jpg)</div><strong><span style="font-size: 14pt;" class="bbc_size">Savaelli</span></strong><br><strong>Location:</strong>Nova Nebula Cantina, Mos Ke Yhra Spaceport, ~150km from the Taltos homestead, Emant<br><strong>Tagged:</strong> Ailet Styrcharn, <strong>Open</strong> <br><hr>When any given young woman of means came to Mos Ke Yhra, it was either to procure cargo from one of the small shippers that came dirtside or to visit one of the specialist workshops that produced high quality droids, or the iridescent jewelry and tough leather items that came from the local insectoid life, the megarachs, or fine garments from the Emanti silktree fibres.<br><br>Savaelli Taltos was decidedly <em>not</em> any given young woman of means. She had her jewelry, her fine clothes, but she came to Mos Ke Yhra often enough she was recognized, one of a clique of young sentients that had a reputation for playing a bit hard after the chores were done.&nbsp; Her family was respected on both sides of the landing field anyway; the old-money homesteaders looked down on the poorer Taltos as a lesser, but charmingly honest and forthright, house and excused their daughter's indiscretions as the folly of youth. By contrast, the laborers and ... underbelly of Emant found that the Taltos were honest, well paying, and well-capable of keeping secrets.<br><br>When she was seen walking out of the jungle humidity into the cool, conditioned Nova Nebula - a cantina more dimly lit that the sign out front might suggest - looking pensive, nobody might have thought it out of the ordinary. She'd done much the same any number of times in the past when she'd wanted to be away from a disagreement with her parents or siblings, and come here seeking distraction - sometimes conversational, other times athletic.<br><br>This wasn't the sort of place that had dancers on the table (except for that one time - okay the <em>few</em> times Savaelli and her friends allowed inebriation and enthusiasm to overcome what restraint they had), so she was well used to attracting the eyes of those who looked her way - even as distracted as she was, she could feel eyes on her as her nipples pebbled in reaction to the cold air.<br><br>She liked the attention, liked being admired, enjoyed being desired, and maybe that was <em>also</em> contributing to her hardening nipples, but on this particular day her mind was on other things - and it was a feeling that was shared by the whole bar.<br><br><div class="spoiler_container"><div onclick="hideSecond (this);" role="button" class="spoiler_header">Months ago...</div><div class="spoiler_body">... the Empire had come and taken Emant, the fruitbasket of the system and a profitable part of the Ord Mantell tradeway. The occupation had been ... gentle enough, but had come with taxes, bureaucracy, recruitment.&nbsp; The fringe spirit of Emant had been intruded on, and new military speeder and TIE patrols had choked the ... informal trade markets that had once given ports like Mos Ke Yhra and Mos Ke Vya life.<br><br>Ever since, the Nebula Nova had been quieter, less lively. The band, Kev Sybo Renaissance, didn't seem to have the same vigor, and more and more often the music played was prerecorded.</div></div><br>Savaelli made her way to the bar and collected her drink - a local fruity cocktail that the tender - an old Bothan whose fur was starting to silver, who'd only ever given the name Threst - knew to pour for her on sight, and she made her way to one of the side booths. The sashay the local clientelle had come to know and love was still in her step, her hips swaying as she made her way to an empty booth.<br><br>This was her favorite table and had been for years - no clear line of sight to the front door meant that she could avoid curious eyes as they entered, whether they were worried parents, jilted connections or overly curious Imperial troopers - meanwhile, a clean route out the back meant she could avoid the same if she felt it necessary.&nbsp; She didn't need Imperial entanglements, at least not other than the visitor she hoped to see again.<br><br>There was a Dressellian she was hoping to meet who had ... discretely provided her parents, and later Savaelli herself, with certain information which had helped certain people escape certain attention - and possibly certain doom. He'd frequented this cantina a few times and she'd made discrete contact with him here before - and he might be able to help her with the sort of problem she had.<br><br>Life since the Empire had come was scary - but it was <em>exciting</em> too, as she had started her own little rebellion against Imperial tyranny!&nbsp; She waited, outwardly self-possessed in the dark of the cantina, but inwardly her heart pounded and her blood pumped as she waited - and hoped - for her contact.<br><br>While she waited, she contemplated the message that had been delivered to her - <em>her,</em> not her home, and consisted of a strange message from a strange droid.&nbsp; Was it a trap, or was it the message she was looking for?&nbsp; She couldn't be sure, but maybe the Dressellian could help...
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				Title: <strong>Re: Rebel Scum - IC</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Karma</strong> on <strong>30-12-2020, 03:07:02</strong>
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				<div class="floatright">(https://i.imgur.com/qh8hBhV.jpg)</div><strong><span style="font-size: 14pt;" class="bbc_size">Pantoriana Lelajan Kestrel</span></strong><br><strong>Location:</strong>Sapphire's Shard, a nightclub on the outer edge of Tur, on the planet of Odund<br><strong>Tagged:</strong>Jakira D’han<br><hr>The <em>Abyssine Clutch[url] (https://i.imgur.com/I05OmUo.jpg)</em> sliced down through Odund’s atmo, drawing a sharp line through its sparse cloud cover. This unimpressive hulk of a planet was like so many Pantoriana had seen in her relatively short life; devoid of life, devoid of all meaning except for the resources that hid beneath its surface. The ever-expanding sprawl of galactic sapients drove unceasing demand for raw materials, and they would never be satisfied with the meager gifts found upon their home planets, no. They would demand more and more, and reach their avaricious fingers out into the stars, plucking the fruit from every last tree in the galaxy, until there was nothing left. It seemed unsustainable to Pan, but she knew she wouldn’t live long enough to see the day that it would all come to a head. <em>Bigger problems for bigger brains,</em> she decided.<br><br>The Empire was crawling all over this system, but in a scattershot, almost disorganized fashion. Whoever was leading the mining operation only cared about what they were extracting and had no intention of staying long-term, it seemed. Outside of their strongholds, there weren’t much for checkpoints, and especially not in Tur, apparently. It hadn’t been much hassle for a former Partisan to find the right avenues to arrange a meetup with a slicer, even on short notice. <em>I could get used to this fringe work,</em> Pan mused as her ship entered auto-landing mode. Her old boss, Saw Gerrera, had always wanted big targets in populated areas. It was never about liberation with him, just notoriety, adrenaline, and revenge.<br><br>The <em>Clutch</em> landed outside the city, as was standard for everyone visiting fringe towns that either didn’t want to be officially logged or didn’t want to pay a docking fee. For Pan it had more to do with being antisocial than anything; docking agents were always nosy. The canopy popped and she hopped out, her heavy landing kicking up dust. <br><br>By any casual glance, Pan was just another human female with a little borg on her, but below the neck she was quite a bit <em>more</em> than human. Though a cursory medical scan would confirm her species as plain old human, her bones were biosteel and her muscles synthfiber. The human replica droid body to which she’d been hastily grafted had once been an assassin, designed to seduce and annihilate chosen targets for its master. It had lost its head somewhere along the line and thrown in a scrap heap, where it sat for years until Pan’s pathetic near-dead scraps replaced the head the droid had lost. Though it had been three years now, she still felt dysphoria and awe when she inspected her new body. The old one had been wiry and lean, the body of a knife’s-edge smuggler. Now she looked like a HoloNet starlet, buxom and fertile at every curve. She wore a full bodysuit not only to accentuate her looks for others, but to hide them from herself.<br><br>The walk into town was effortless. She didn’t really get tired since the change; droid bodies didn’t work that way. They were at full power all the time unless she allowed the batteries distributed through her bones to get critically low, and that would take some intense deprivation over a period of weeks, or many hours of unceasing physical combat. HRDs were designed for long term undercover insertion, and it just wouldn’t do to need to be plugged in overnight! Her contact had provided the location, and so she weaved her way through the bustling town to find the Sapphire’s Shard, where her potential slicer awaited.<br><br>Citizens made way for Pan as she entered the bar. She had gotten used to it by now, the way people tended to avert their gazes and change their routes to stay clear of her. Smuggler Pan had learned to be quiet as a mouse, and her stature had helped quite a bit. But now she was tall, almost towering, and while the droid body had been made to seduce with sexuality, it was also powerful. Synth muscle rippled just beneath the surface of that silky brown skin, and when combined with her piercing glare made Pan imposing in a way she was still learning how to utilize. The days of sneaking around in the shadows was over, and she would never go unnoticed again, that much was certain.<br><br>The bright purple bodysuit probably didn’t help.<br><br>Pan was tall enough to swing a leg over the back of the chair and plop her robotic-but-shapely ass down opposite the one who she assumed was her slicer, who the contact had described succinctly as “a hot-ass Zeltron,” which wasn’t necessarily helpful since Zs always tended to be attractive, but as the only bright red woman in the building, it was easy to conclude. The communications array that was literally bolted to Pan’s head chirped in her mind, and with a wink, she sent the response code. <br><br>“Heard you’re looking for a job,” Pan said with a violet smile. “Turns out I got one for you.”
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				Title: <strong>Re: Rebel Scum - IC</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Idej</strong> on <strong>03-01-2021, 00:16:54</strong>
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				<div class="floatright">(https://static.wikia.nocookie.net/starwars/images/4/4b/B1_Battle_Droids_Upgrade_Expansion_art.png)</div><div class="floatright">(https://i.imgur.com/07KJ2TY.jpg)</div><br><strong><span style="font-size: 14pt;" class="bbc_size">Fotas w/OOM-11 "Melvin"</span></strong><br><strong>Location:</strong>Odund - Fotas' Droid Repair Shop/Front for Hidden Rebel Cell in the works<br><strong>Tagged:</strong> Everyone<br><hr><br>Fotas had nearly finished typing out the letter he would like for Melvin to use to recruit the others that have caught his attention, courtesy of the different contacts that this Cell had throughout the system.&nbsp; He knew that Jast Tycho would be quite busy doing many of the planning and other tasks that the leader of the Cell here needed, so the Hutt gladly delegated himself to handle some of the more mundane tasks and other items of business that were needed to get the ball rolling so Tycho and the other leadership of this Cell would be better able to handle the large picture tasks.<br><br>He did this for many reasons.&nbsp; For starters, he was longer lived than most other species in the galaxy so letting them focus on the bigger picture with their shorter lived lives meant greater fulfillment rather than being bogged down with the other tasks-while essential-would inevitably bog them down more and not get the results they would like to see.&nbsp; Another is that Fotas is a Hutt.&nbsp; It is hard to have a Hutt be in hiding, let alone hide from doing things that could draw the Empire's unwanted gaze upon them all.&nbsp; So, Fotas does the more mundane tasks and the likes while working at his little droid repair shop.&nbsp; Melvin typically stayed in the back with his E-5 Carbine at the ready in case things did go south fast.&nbsp; Melvin being a Battle Droid would cause issues with him being seen publicly, so he had Melvin work with the Cell behind closed doors in getting things done that way.<br><br>Fotas was nearly done with proofreading his letter for delivery to the potential prospects in the area and had it all prepared.&nbsp; He shut down his shop for the night and slithered to the back.<br><br><strong>"Melvin, here is the letter for you to read and have delivered to our potential recruits,</strong> Fotas said in his bellowing voice to Melvin as he approached the OOM-Series Command Droid<br><br>Melvin moved towards Fotas with his spindly legs and gave out an affirmative, <strong>"Roger Roger.&nbsp; Is there anything else you require Commander?"</strong><br><br>Fotas shook his head gently and smiled at Melvin, <strong>"No, Melvin, and please those days are behind us.&nbsp; I am not your Commander anymore.&nbsp; We, are comrades old friend.&nbsp; That said, I do appreciate everything you do for me.&nbsp; It is, greatly appreciated.</strong><br><br>Melvin lifted his head up slightly to show his happiness and a thumbs up too, <strong>"Thank you for your kindness, Fotas.&nbsp; I will work on getting this recording made and submitted to the future prospects in due haste.&nbsp; Afterwards I shall be assisting Tycho tomorrow, in tactical plans and comparing notes with him to better acquaint myself to what he calls, 'guerilla warfare'."</strong><br><br>Fotas gave a nod in earnest approval and went to retire for the night while Melvin began his letter to be sent to all prospects.<br><br><strong>"Such beauty it is to see the light of the youth of the younger lived species coming together.&nbsp; It is such a brief light, but it burns with such splendor and intensity,"</strong> Fotas said to himself as he went sleep.<br><br>Meanwhile Melvin finished his speech and sent it across secured channels to head to their intended targets.<br><br>The message would arrive view a pocket hologram projector to the intended recruits via a variety of handlers and in ways that would ensure the intended targets wouldn't just dispose of the projector without reading it.&nbsp; Once activated, Melvin's face would show up and speak to them in the iconic tone of a Battle Droid.<br><br><div class="quoteheader"><div class="topslice_quote">Quote</div></div><blockquote class="bbc_standard_quote"><strong>"Greetings, I am OOM-11, you may call me Melvin for short.<br><br>I am reaching out to you because my Commander has special interest in you and your skills that you may provide.&nbsp; If you desire to fight against the ones who are oppressing you, come to the small town of Asine on Odund, and go to the Senile Prospector Cantina; it is the only Cantina.&nbsp; Approach a Duros in the back end of the establishment and he will mention the word redeem in his initial conversation.&nbsp; You will reply with the word restore and my name, Melvin in your response.&nbsp; It does not matter what you say so long as it flows and contains those words.<br><br>Bring anything that you can carry on your person.&nbsp; If you have more than that, we will work on bringing it to a more secure location.<br><br>Liberty and freedom to you."</strong></blockquote><div class="quotefooter"><div class="botslice_quote"></div></div>
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				Title: <strong>Re: Rebel Scum - IC</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Gnollboy92</strong> on <strong>03-01-2021, 13:14:25</strong>
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				<strong><span style="font-size: 14pt;" class="bbc_size">Ailet Styrcharn </span></strong><br><strong>Location: Nova Nebula Cantina, Mos Ke Yhra Spaceport, ~150km from the Taltos homestead, Emant. </strong><br><strong>Tagged: Savaelli </strong><br><hr><br>Ailet made his way into the cantina clad in a set of grey, slightly too large overalls which served to cover the concealed blaster and disguise him as a common labourer rather than an Imperial operative. His eyes scanned the place for anyone who looked out of place. There were signs when one was trying to ‘look casual’ in an unfamiliar place, a certain stiffness or overly relaxed appearance that came from forcing the body against the natural tension one gets when trying to avoid detection. He sought two targets. The first was the helpful Savaelli Taltos, at first Ailet had been wary of working with the daughter of a wealthy family. He’d seen bored socialites turn their hand to rebellion, and then just as quickly turn to the Empire when people started dying or when their ‘hobby’ came to light and they needed a swift exit. But Savaelli seemed to be legitimately interested in freeing her planet at the very least, and her links the Rebellion were a useful asset if she did turn on him later… Ailet frowned inwardly and pushed those paranoid thoughts aside. <br><br>The second target were any Imperial agents lurking around. Ailet was taking a significant risk in meeting his contact here, he needed to keep himself free of suspicion if he was to maximise his opportunities to harm and hinder the Empire out here… the dark thoughts roiled in his mind once more and the cold fact that his contacts were in far more danger than he was floated to the surface, for as easy as it was for them to turn on him it would be a simple matter to spin it as an ill-thought out attempt to play double agent and gather information for the Empire. That those were the thoughts that bubbled to the surface would trouble Ailet later, when he had the luxury of introspection and self-loathing.<br><br>Ailet approached the bar and ordered a cheap drink, the smell indicating it traded palatability for potency. The wrinkled skin of his face hid the slight flicker of disgust at the caustic odour of his drink, he then moved to the table and casually took a seat opposite Savelli. He placed his drink down in front him and slipped a small jammer under it, concealing the small device beneath his glass before he greeted the woman with “What do you know of this message from the being calling himself Melvin?”.<br>
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				Title: <strong>Re: Rebel Scum - IC</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Annaamarth</strong> on <strong>04-01-2021, 06:11:32</strong>
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				<div class="floatright">(https://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/1/12/Redheadfantasybraid.jpg)</div><strong><span style="font-size: 14pt;" class="bbc_size">Savaelli</span></strong><br><strong>Location:</strong>Nova Nebula Cantina, Mos Ke Yhra Spaceport, ~150km from the Taltos homestead, Emant<br><strong>Tagged:</strong> Ailet Styrcharn, <strong>Open</strong> <br><hr>Green eyes followed the Dressellian "technician's" entry into the spaceport with keen interest - not that anyone was likely to notice in the dark of Savaelli's chosen corner, and she was known to engage in what might be <em>charitably</em> called people-watching.&nbsp; The uncharitable might use more suggestive words, often laden with innuendo or base wordplay, but Savaelli positively delighted in giving the uncharitable something to talk about.<br><br>As Ailet approached her table, Savaelli looked him up and down, eyeing the cheap drink he'd brought with him.&nbsp; She wasn't put off by his wrinkles, but the drink in his hand earned a sour twitch of the lip.<br><br><div class="quoteheader"><div class="topslice_quote">Quote</div></div><blockquote class="bbc_standard_quote">“What do you know of this message from the being calling himself Melvin?”</blockquote><div class="quotefooter"><div class="botslice_quote"></div></div><br>"Not even a 'hello,' handsome, no drink for a lady? Then again, I wouldn't want what you're having, except to kill fungal growths around the properties." She reflected for a moment, then continued. "Or wasp-hives.&nbsp; I think that would do a number on them."&nbsp; She sighed, then, disappointment clear in her tone. "As to your question ... very little, I'm afraid. Have you gotten a holo from him as well? Directions, a location? I was hoping you could help me find passage off-world, so I can make contact." <em>But ... would it be worth it? I don't know how many others have been ... invited like this.&nbsp; Why did he pick me, and why Ailet? Wait ...</em>&nbsp; She started glancing around nervously.&nbsp; <em>Is it a trap?</em><br><br>Her heart picked up speed. "Should we ... disappear? Maybe the message was a trap!" She whispered quietly - but it sounded as though there was as much excitement in her voice as nervousness!
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				Title: <strong>Re: Rebel Scum - IC</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>TheGrandAdmiral</strong> on <strong>05-01-2021, 12:48:50</strong>
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				<div class="floatright">(https://i.imgur.com/VhKWeTD.jpg)</div><strong><span style="font-size: 14pt;" class="bbc_size">Nyll</span></strong><br><strong>Location:</strong> the ruins of the city Vasti, Shalso<br><strong>Tagged:</strong> Open<br><hr><br>Nyll had been on the planet for several weeks now. She was there to recruit potential operatives for the Rebel Alliance. Someone's idea of humor, sending a beautiful Twi'Lek on a former Hutt-controlled planet. Normally that would have been triggering for her, given her past as a slave, but she was a professional, who buried her personal feelings about the mission deep. She knew that there were other Rebel agents in the system, but their identities were kept on a need-to-know basis as not to reveal them if caught. Of course she had a way to communicate with them if needed, same went for them too. <br><br>Her hips swayed as she walked slowly through the ruined city of Vasti making way towards the spaceport where she kept her A-wing. It was a small commercial one, abandoned, not worth maintaining, though she was sure that this would change soon enough. The Empire had done a number on it. The fall of the Hutt in charge had left a power vacuum and nature abhorred vacuum. Now it was a nightmarish place where no hope remained for the survivors. Gangs pillaged and raped. Gang wars were being waged. The perfect breeding ground for people hating the Empire for bringing that to them. <br><br>The Empire had its agents here too of course, that made her job difficult, as if any ever was. She had to vet them first before offering them a way to stick it to the Empire. Part of Nyll's job was to make a local cell to keep the Imperials occupied. The more planets rose against them, their chances increased, as the Alliance's strength was not enough to topple Palpatine's reign. <br><br>She was to be a tiny spark that sets the planet ablaze, spreading the Rebellion like wild fire. Then some spark from this system will move to the next and the next, until Coruscant burns and cleanses... <br><br>Nyll tried to keep a look out for any gangbangers. She had learned from her mistakes as once a very nasty human man tried to rape and kill her in one of the alleys. Good thing that he was high on glitterstim so she managed to kill him. <br><br>It was getting dark and she did not want to be out alone, not until she had backup. Maybe check with any of the other operatives? Maybe someone had been in the system long enough to introduce her to someone with power and/or influence. That would make her job easy. <br><br>Once she reached the spaceport, Nyll looked around, her few neighbors were still there. All kept to themselves, most of them smugglers and gun runners, she was pretending to be a gun for hire, so they stayed away. She reached her hangar, there was the A-wing, no sign of tampering, but she checked anyway. Once she was sure it was alright, she keyed the commands and the canopy opened. <br><br>Activating the comms "This is Nexu, is there anyone there?" she used her code-name, despite it being an encrypted line, one could never be too sure. She transmitted her codes identifying her as someone who could be trusted. Now to wait for that call...<br>
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Rebel Scum - IC</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Idej</strong> on <strong>06-01-2021, 00:09:06</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatright">(https://static.wikia.nocookie.net/starwars/images/4/4b/B1_Battle_Droids_Upgrade_Expansion_art.png)</div><div class="floatright">(https://i.imgur.com/07KJ2TY.jpg)</div><br><strong><span style="font-size: 14pt;" class="bbc_size">Fotas w/OOM-11 "Melvin"</span></strong><br><strong>Location:</strong>Odund - Hidden Rebel Cell<br><strong>Tagged:</strong> Jast Tycho, Nyll<br><hr><br>Fotas was resting his eyes in his room before Melvin appeared. He was deep in thought of things in the future.&nbsp; He thought about how the Rebel Alliance's formal name being the Alliance to Restore the Republic.&nbsp; The name always grated against him, due to his Separatist roots.&nbsp; He knew that many within the hierarchy of the Alliance were former Republic loyalists.&nbsp; It was to be expected to see such Republic patriotism and propaganda float about.&nbsp; He shook his head in thought of that, knowing full well that the leaders of the Alliance are failing to see a huge factor as to why the Empire even came into existence.&nbsp; This factor was that the Separatists saw the corruption and cumbersome ways of the Republic and wanted to be no longer a part of that.&nbsp; They were blinded by war and want of a strong a central government that they practically gave Sheev Palpatine all power on a silver platter and darn near attached the shackles and collar of servitide willingly.&nbsp; He did not know where the Alliance would go after the Empire fell, but he knew that those in charge should not repeat the same mistakes that led to the Clone Wars-and by extension, the Galactic Civil War.<br><br>The next thought to come to mind were the youth of the galaxy, and the shorter lived species in particular.&nbsp; He saw that they had high ambitions, very eager to do all they can, and highly spirited.&nbsp; However, he also noticed that they want a desire to have problems solved immediately and in many cases, right now.&nbsp; Unfortunately, not many of the issues throughout the galaxy could be solved on the drop of a hat.&nbsp; Change, especially, peaceful change is a slow and arduous process.&nbsp; One that requires patience, thought, and sacrifice.&nbsp; The biggest question arises in how much is the current generation willing to sacrifice to make the next generation better?&nbsp; And so on and so on.&nbsp; These were many thoughts that went through Fotas' head up until Melvin finally spoke to him.<br><br><strong>"Hey, boss, we are receiving an incoming transmission from one of the new agents meant to be coming to our Cell,</strong> Melvin reported to Fotas, <strong>The agent has all correct credentials and there are reportedly no signs of the transmission being hacked or listened into.&nbsp; Should we follow routine?</strong><br><br>Fotas stirred from hearing this and grew a bit excited, bellowing a <strong>Ho ho ho, yes, Melvin.&nbsp; Send a routine message out to the agent so that we can ensure that this agent is actually who Command sent to us.&nbsp; I'll report this to Tycho immediately.</strong><br><br><strong>"Roger roger,"</strong> was all that Melvin jad said as he excused himself to carry forth with the transmission.<br><br>Melvin approached the comms station that was at their base of operations, and began to send a reply to the operative known as 'Nexu'<br><br><strong>"Nexu, this is uh, 'Bantha,' we have received your message and are ready to receive you.&nbsp; Please go to Odund to the city of Tur.&nbsp; Docking Bay 3 is where you will land, do not worry we already have it booked for you.&nbsp; Wait there to receive further instructions.&nbsp; &nbsp;Bantha out, roger roger.</strong><br><br>Melvin closed communications and went to check the sensors of the base to ensure there was no signs of out of the ordinary Imperial activity.<br><br>Fotas slithered his way through the corridors and halls of the base and approached Tycho.<br><br><strong>"We have recieved a communication from onenof the operatives assigned to the area.&nbsp; I have had Melvin take care of the initial intake procedure,&nbsp; but the rest is awaiting your command on how to proceed,"</strong> Fotas said in Basic to Tycho.<br><br>Basic was not a huge deal for Fotas to use, but it was a tad broken.&nbsp; He has been practicing twice a week to speak more fluently and the results have shown.<br><br>Fotas sees potential in Tycho as a leader.&nbsp; He knows that the man has seen alot in his time and is aware that the trauma involved in it would be great.&nbsp; He too sometimes has Clone Wars flashbacks and it jolts him too.&nbsp; But, Fotas had faith and confidence in Tycho getting the job done, so the Hutt typically served as an advisory voice for the young man.&nbsp; He only typically would take charge of things should it be required of him do so.<br><br>Melvin continued to check the sensors while also chattering to himself.<br><br><strong>"I sure do like working for Fotas.&nbsp; Still can't believe he chose me to stay operational when he could have kept one of the T or ST series active.&nbsp; Also he never threatened me with harm nor did he treat me like I was disposable.&nbsp; Strange for a Hutt, but it has to be respected.&nbsp; Tycho too, the man os definitely a force of nature.&nbsp; I can see why the Boss listens to his commands.&nbsp; Should I call him the Big Boss or something else?"<br></strong><br><br>He continued working at his station diligently until he was either satisfied with the results or commanded to do something else.<br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Rebel Scum - IC</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Gnollboy92</strong> on <strong>20-01-2021, 09:37:08</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatright">(https://i.pinimg.com/originals/5c/e1/d0/5ce1d0e8b15dc3253ecceaf77753a069.jpg)</div><strong> <span style="font-size: 14pt;" class="bbc_size">Ailet</span></strong><br><strong>Location: Nova Nebula Cantina, Mos Ke Yhra Spaceport, ~150km from the Taltos </strong><br><strong>Tagged: Savaelli</strong><br><hr><br>“I received the same holo. I think we should try and get more information, but be ready to make your escape just in case.” Ailet said quietly “I have a backup blaster ready to go if it is a trap, but I’d rather avoid using that against Imperial operatives right now. That’d make my objective a bit more difficult, not impossible but…” He shook his head quickly, forcing his thoughts back on task. “I’ll get you a drink and see if anything looks strange, I haven’t seen any overt signs of covert activity but that’s sort of the point.” Ailet said, his eyes flicking over the patrons. “What should I get you? Something expensive and colourful?” He asked as he placed his drink down on the table. “It also just occurred to me that the easiest option is to simply go find this Duros. I have made things rather complex in my mind and overlooked the simple solution.”
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Rebel Scum - IC</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Annaamarth</strong> on <strong>31-01-2021, 16:20:12</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatright">(https://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/1/12/Redheadfantasybraid.jpg)</div><strong><span style="font-size: 14pt;" class="bbc_size">Savaelli</span></strong><br><strong>Location:</strong>Nova Nebula Cantina, Mos Ke Yhra Spaceport, ~150km from the Taltos homestead, Emant<br><strong>Tagged:</strong> Ailet Styrcharn, <strong>Open</strong> <br><hr>She lounged back into her seat as Ailet offered a drink. "Well, if you're offering - sweet, sour and fruity.&nbsp; But yeah, checking out this meeting was on my do-list - thought you could help me get off-world, but ... I can reach out and see if I can find anyone who can help through my side, maybe?" She glanced over the bar for a few minutes, thinking about the problem.&nbsp; "Uhm. If you can get me a ship, I can try to make the run myself, but I'm no expert in avoiding patrols - I'm used to flying a skyhopper, not a transport." As she lounged, her excitement waned into a mild disappointment.&nbsp; "But yes, going to see this Duros - and finding out whatever came from that - was exactly what I wanted to do, it's why I was looking for transport."<br><br>Then what he'd said clicked, and her eyes widened. "Wait. Are you coming too? I ... I didn't expect that."
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Rebel Scum - IC</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Gnollboy92</strong> on <strong>10-02-2021, 15:30:51</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<strong><span style="font-size: 14pt;" class="bbc_size"> Ailet </span></strong><br><strong>Location:</strong> Nova Nebula Cantina, Mos Ke Yhra Spaceport, ~150km from the Taltos<br><strong>Tagged: Savaelli, Open</strong><br><hr><br>Ailet nodded "Yes, I would be coming with you. Meeting an asset is not something I want to leave to anyone but myself, it's far too easy to have information be garbled when conveyed through another's perceptions." He said "I doubt you'd consent to having a recorder implanted in you, and even if you did we don't really have the time for such measures. As for the patrols..." He smiled "It just so happens that I know the patrol routes, unless they change them without warning we should be able to evade them simply by not crossing their path. If you know of any contacts who could help you get off world that might be useful, my methods may draw attention we can't afford... I'll let you think things over while I get you a more fitting beverage."<br><br>With that Ailet stood and walked over to the bar, doing his best to keep the rigid Imperial discipline out of his gait. Ordering something that fit the stipulated flavour profile he collected it and carefully made his way back, his own mind whirring as he picked at the situation.
			</dd>
		</dl>
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