Ronin Wartide

"I must have..." Ronin bit his tongue, turning away from the terrible visages in disgust. The board seemed to be charging through a tunnel now, long alternating stripes of durasteel gray stretched as far forward and behind as they could see. Ronin froze as he spied human shapes in a even line beyond the edge of the board. "Corban?" Ronin's eyes strained to make out the features of the crude stone Facsimiles. He saw in the jagged curves of the marble figure the vague semblance of his brother's face. "Corban, Luthis Vanden and Moon Knight. Or whoever Moon Knight used to be. The first space pirates. Until we were obliterated by the Hutts, that is." Ronin continued down the line, to three Heavily armed soldiers in close file. "Tekkan Raas, Rane Scando, Friggen' Mike--The Elite Mercenaries. These men taught me my trade. They made me who I am today. Time stole the mercs from me. Who knows where they went." Both with Chain Axes over their shoulder, the next two brought a smile to his face. "Duo and Black are still around. As if my Pariahs could be stopped. I could get their asses on the board if they'd answer my calls." Ronin glanced at the rather striking likeness of Quintus, bottle in hand. He hesitated, trying to recall his name. "Drunk Guy, Kheldar, Bekka, That Sith named John, Kat and-" Ronin shuttered at the morose expression on the face of his once Fiance. "Zara..." He halted on the twins, only knee high at her side. "...Kalyani and Kane." Ronin's express grew strained as he studied face of a noble woman and the young boy at her waist. "If they're off the board, then it must be because they are all lost to me." Ronin took a step backward into the innermost ring of the great circle. The grave emptiness of his life and all the people he had failed to keep in tore at his very soul. He had so much to be guilty for. What had happened to the soldiers he had forfeited, The Brother he'd driven off, The Men whose lives he'd thrown away, The women he had scorned or The children he had abandoned? Did he even have the right to wonder why they weren't there to answer his call when he needed allies by his side? "So I'm all alone versus the world. These are the odds I'm used to after all. A generous application of pugilism and alcohol, and I'll be out of this crazy hoodoo. You'll see." Ronin reached in his coat, turning around to dump the contents of a flask down his throat. Discarding the empty container over his shoulder, He raised his fists up and began sizing up the amorphous abominations that rallied behind Julio. He threw a few punches in the air, warming up for what he was fairly certain was to be a serious ass kicking.

"Fine then. I did it with my crazy gambling magic." Ronin took a labored step onto the square in front of him, his feat growing heavy as he attempted his second. The oppressive darkness began to give weigh to murky gray, swirling like clouds. Cast in empty blackness looming over the tiles that flanked Julio, Ronin saw towering monstrosities. Ronin fell to his knees at the edge of the dark square, unable to continue. The weight of grim possibilities began to loom in his mind. Perhaps he were dead already, killed in the collapsing Black Sun Citadel. And if it were true, did it mean Julio was dead too? Or was this all a sick game to appease the cruel monster the Sith had made of Julio? Alone in his half circle of the perceived playing field, Ronin ground his teeth bitterly. This world, hallucination, illusion or otherwise left him feeling nothing but dread and sorrow. He wished the drugs would wear off, the sun would rise, and the hangover would scream him back to the waking world. "If this is a Dejarik Board..." Ronin thought as he looked up at the still silhouette of his son. "...then where the hell are my pieces?"

Ronin squinted his eyes shut, awakened by a sudden jolt of pain. His face was cold and numb from the hard cold stone floor he found beneath him. He pressed his hands to the floor, lifting himself off the ground. He watched fragments of exploded building and sweat drop from his hair onto the bright white tile. No- Remembering the fall, he threw his head up to get a view, finding only looming darkness. Fearing his glasses broken, the old pirate discarded them. "Wha-" It was then that he realized that the tone and color of his hand was gone, cast off for a pale white haze. He stood up slowly, following the ghostly white wash from his palm to his boot in confusion. "Ergh... What kind of witchcraft is this?" He whined. He glanced slowly around trying to make out shapes in the oppressive darkness. Ronin's eyes sharpened around a moving silhouette. "What have you done?"

RONIN WARTIDE'S CHARACTER SHEET Identity [!ident] Real Name: Ronin Wartide A.K.A: The Pirate King Homeworld: Nar Shadaa Species: Human Physical Description [!dscrp] Age: 37 Height: 5'11 even Weight: 170lbs Hair: Short Black, slicked back with a greasy substance Eyes: Dark Brown, sometimes Gold in the right Light. Usually hidden by large, round, orange Glasses. Sex: Male Equipment [!equip] Clothing or Armor: Black armorweave body suit with full belt and shoulder harnesses for weapons, over which is a blood red leather trench coat. The coat has a few new surprises, including a camouflage feature that can best be compared to that of a chameleon. Weapon:Twin dueling pistols, one white labeled the and one black, special slug throwers designed for numerous types of munition. The former is inscribed "Forgive me, for I have Sinned" while the latter reads "Forget me, for I have no regrets." He also wields a specially designed super heated rapier, now covered in a thin cortosis alloy. Shit in his pockets:Several Packs of cigarettes, a silver engraved Lighter initialed R. W., An Ash Tray, Mines, Bombs, Grenades A console computer without it's case--separated into several pieces in several pockets, welding tools, drilling tools, torsion tools, tape, a case of cigars, a comm, a backup comm, a tool that emulates a speeder key, a circular saw, and much much more. Strangely, the coat seems unencumbered. Alcohol and Spice: Having been in the spice trade for many years, Ronin still carries a variety of stims in syringes, raw spices in jars, and of course--a jug of 400 proof Kashyyykan Whiskey. Faction Information [!factn] Non-Force User Alignment: Chaotic Neutral Current Faction Affiliation: Ronin Wartide was the leader of a gang left over from his pirate Factions, but has recently sent what remained of his standing "personnel" home. A few still drink in his bar daily. Current Faction Rank: Restaurant owner (And Little More) Former Faction Positions (and reasons retired): Founder, Wartide Wing Space Pirates (Disbanded); Member, The Elite Mercenaries (Disbanded); Privateer, The Galactic Republic (High Treason); Private Investor, The Link (Breach of Contract); Contract Agent, The Galactic Empire (Moderate Treason); Bounty Hunter, the Hutt Clan (Terrorism); Acting Leader, Black Sun (The Old leader came back). Freelance Associate, The Smugglers moon (Accidentally blew up leader), Information Trader, The Sith (Contacts in the Sith died out) History: [!hstry] Trained by: Rane Scando, Tekkan Rass, Bounty Hunter Mike Relatives: Corban Wartide, Brother (Lost); Julio Wartide, First Son (Abandoned from birth); Kalyani, twin Daughter (estranged); Kane, twin son (estranged) Known Skills:Ronin is capable of many things, but not necessarily skilled in most cases. He's a pilot, a slicer, a mechanic, a pirate, and a gambler. What he's not, he'll usually give a try anyway. Background: The Heir to a Long line of notorious pirates, Ronin Wartide and his little Brother Corban started small, with a band of pirates that were eventually crushed by fighting between the two. Working alone, Ronin Joined up with a Band of Elite Mercenaries known pangalacticly for their skill and tenacity. In time, the warriors went their separate ways. It was from them, Ronin learned the value having a few core aces to league with, and along with the only other remaining member Tekkan Rass, began to work contracts. After meeting the twins, Kat and Zara Nargal, Ronin was compelled not to blow them up by their nerve and creativity, starting what would become a long term relationship. This union ended Zara, Ronin's then Fiance, bore for his twin children a half sister. His revenge came at great cost to the galaxy, which suffered to bear the Imperial Resurrection that followed in his wake. After a tense and cryptic reunion with all three of his children, Ronin took Kane to live with his father in his Restaurant on Coruscant, where they spotted an Imperial Blockade swarming the Black Sun Citadel--home to his bitter rivals. In an attempt to make amends (Money) to the Rival Syndicate, He inadvertently put himself in the path of Julio's Hidden Agenda. Tumbling down though the abyssal streets of Coruscant, Pursued by a crumbling Citadel, Ronin fights a fateful Battle. Read: http://jedirp.net/forums/viewtopic.php?p=1135852#1131464 Ship Registration [!ship] Name: The Grave Breaker Class: Pirate-Freighter Model: CC-GB 1 Manufacturer: KVC Enterprises Designer: Kheldar vos Correlli Length: 50 meters Armaments: 2 Quad Laser Cannons, 2 Ion cannons, 3 sets of homing missile launchers, 1 tractor beam projector. A mechanical arm for grasping/grabbing ships and cargo. Electromag harpoons with EMP bursts (Special harpoons fixed with electromag features. The ends also have the ability to unleash EMP bursts to disable the ships after they are latched on and at the same time, remain fixed to the ships.) Armor: Reinforced shields with extra protection from conventional weapons and minimal shielding against Ion/EMP attacks. Anti-Personnel Defenses: Reinforced durasteel doors. Bioscans at the main entry/cargo points, and automated laser traps. Technical details: The whole ship is a custom job, designed by KVC himself. The main thrust in the rear of the ship is complemented by a second ring of ion engines near the front, meant to improve maneuverability. The engines are top of the line, the design made by Kheldar and similar the one's in his own personal ship. They offer some of the fastest known sublight speeds and reliability. Like all new CEC craft, the ship's equipped with the HIMS anti gravwell system. The ship is incredibly fast and maneuverable, able to carry a fair amount of cargo. Appearance:The Grave Breaker is dark red with black accents. All in all, very sleek and very efficient in design. The ship manages to combine the looks of the PLY 3,000 with the Gamma Class shuttle and still take on a vaguely CEC feel. The mechanical arm folds out from under the ship to allow a more streamlined appearance. Modified Cockpit: The actual cockpit is located center of the ship, fed in by a series of holodisplays, capturing info from outside the ship. The screen for the "cockpit" in the front of the ship conceals one such sensor. The actual front of the ship houses a reinforced bulkhead to protect the front sublight engines and a set of homing missile launchers which come out behind the "cockpit" window. In a worst case scenario, the real cockpit, a small reinforced sphere about 3 meters in diameter, is capable of doubling as an escape pod.

A comm came into Mortati's office, requesting more spices and a few custom blends be manufactured for Black Sun Operatives, as well as some specific research be transferred to the Citadel offices in exchange for the usually fees.

Ronin's ship lifted off, the mechanical arm deploying shortly after to snatch Quintus's drunk ass and bring him inside the ship. The Grave Breaker left the planet, returning to their base of Operations on Coruscant.

"Yes..." He mumbled, contemplating Quintus's fear of cults "It seems it's about time we leave this place. The deed is done, our naked friend has been reclaimed. Let us be off." Ronin turned and headed into his ship. He had a great deal of work to complete, and his pockets were getting light on spice.

Ronin hesitated, looking down at The Book of Unspeakable Horror, then back up at Duo. He seemed surprised, to say the least. Part of him had expected nothing to happen at all. The rest of him expected eight hot Daemonettes to appear and commence with a marathon of sex, in which two would be alotted for each of the participants--including Pepito, the 9th 16 year old boy. Always the optimist, Ronin sought to make the best of the situation. "Hey buddy, nice seeing you here. You would not believe the trouble I went through to... resurrect you." Ronin glanced over at Black. "Drunk Guy helped a lot too." Ronin closed the book, which seemed to be laughing at what was a modest success at best. Duo was a close friend and ally, but he sure as hell wasn't a Daemon orgy. "Oh, and Black did a little. I've got a spare Black Sun uniform in my ship, along with your equipment. By the way, I own Black Sun now. It's like the pirates, but only my inner circle gets to spend all their earnings on abusable substances and prostitutes."

Ronin turned to snarl at Black, yelling at him through the cigarette in his mouth while flinging gore wildly through the air. "Eh! I'll listen to you when you're a a foot thick book bound in human flesh. Right now we're listening to the Book of Unspeakable Horror, and it demands skulls and 16 year old boys." Ronin paused to contemplate the possibility that the book of unspeakable horror was some kind of gay fetishist book, noting that it would explain why he found it in an 'adult book store.' The pirate put the last bit of gore on the altar, then kicked the wheelbarrow off the mountain and hurled his shovel like a javelin off in the same direction. He reached in his coat, inexplicably withdrawing the large book from inside it. Between its teeth was the liner of his coat, which it quickly released after Ronin stuffed more giggledust into its face. He didn't want it biting him while he read. Ronin thumbed through the pages, biting down on the piece of glitterstem he was chewing to give him that extra 'umph' he needed to read a bunch of squiggly blood smears. "Alright... we got the skulls for the skull throne... now... Black, I need you to decapitate 8 of the 9 young boys. I hope you don't mind senseless murder." Ronin raised his finger to tell Black to wait a second before he began digging into his coat once again, this time pulling out a four foot long chain-axe, made with cortosis alloy and the teeth of a krayt dragon. "Here. Use this."

"Indeed it is! Now, get back in the ship and dump the cargo in a pile up here. Don't worry about the teenagers, the skulls will probably break their fall." Ronin turned around, digging in his pocket for a lighter while he headed back toward his own ship. He glanced at Quintus, giving him a nod but not actually answering his question. Ronin disappeared into his ship, screaming curses when he slipped a pile of Quintus' puke. When he returned, he had a wheel barrow full of what appeared to be dismembered and charred human remains, complete with a shovel on top. Ronin clenched his cigarette between his lips, mumbling a tune as he drove his gorecart over to a large bloodstained alter, then proceeded to use his shovel to put the human remains on the alter.

Ronin set down his ship at the peek of the darkest, coldest mountain, setting the tracking beacon on so that Black could follow him to the proper location. He stepped out the door, leaving Quintus to shamble out on his own accord. Ronin stepped lightly over soil that was red with blood, and hard with bones. "This place seems... Cheery." Ronin's comment was not sarcastic. After chewing a piece of Glitteryll the entire planet seemed to be alive with all the colors of the rainbow, plus a few others he'd never experienced before. He stuffed his hands in his pockets and pulled out a cigarette, finding that even in a hallucinogen inspired world of wonder, he needed nicotine to get him through the day.

A new holonet channel began broadcast, entitled BSN. Run on a privatized host and transmitted via questionable methods, BSN began broadcast in crystal clear HHD, while mysteriously several other networks began to lose some of their previous clarity. The first broadcast day began with a movie entitled "Pipebomb Bloodorgy 36."

The Entirety of the Black Sun fleet assembled at the planet station, acting on the order of Ronin Wartide--Fleet commander. Apparently there was something really important that Ronin needed the entire fleet to not be at.

Ronin exited the meeting--taking his droid, his drugs, and Quintus with him. They boarded their respective ships, then headed out of the system.

Ronin sighed at Silas's suggestion. "I've already rebuilt our connection with the Hutts. I received a communique from the Hutt Fleet Commander immediately before I got the one to come here, and ever the opportunist I stopped by to reform our alliance before I came here. Assuming that this was a trap, I planned this such that if you were to try something here, I'd have The Hutts at my back. So unless you were to change your minds and regroup against me, the Hutts would be all our allies. " Ronin threw back his head in boredom, then pressed hit boot against the table to balance his chair on two legs. "As far as the empire and the rest of the potential alliances go, go I wouldn't say we need them. Honestly, too many alliances put a strain business. When so much of the Corporate galaxy is guarded, it becomes too difficult to operate an aggressive business plan. Governments are tools to be used, not to use you--as they so frequently try. I figure ignore them unless they come to us with a contract." Ronin began to dig in his pocket for a cigarette. "Wyhl the Hutt has something up his sleeve... or... embedded in a fat roll. I just assume wait until that gets going and join in."