Barga

Barga returned to his family home on the outskirts of Bilbousa, the planet's capital. His mother had died several months earlier, a combination of stress, old age and being shot in the face by an assassin. The old Hutt had grown careless, and her son, not wishing to see the House of Vermiliac fall any further than it had under the incompetent administration of his mother, had arranged an accident. When that failed he simply arranged for her to take several blaster bolts to the face instead; there was nobody else to challenge his power in the family, and so no need for secrecy. Paternicide was a time-honoured Hutt method of climbing through the ranks, and the only real fallout was mild approval, though the other Hutt families still looked down on Vermiliac Kajidic, if they thought of them at all. Barga slithered into the modestly sized estate, and was greeted by his stand-in majordomo, his mother's old protocol droid. "Sire," said the droid in Huttese, "the spice operation on Sevarcos II has produced their first shipment." "Have it distributed to our contacts on Corellia, Tatooine and Nar Shaddaa," he instructed in his deep bass. "And have some nala tree frogs brought to me. I think I've been losing weight with all this stress." "At once, Sire," replied the droid.

BARGA'S CHARACTER SHEET Identity [!ident] Real Name:Barga Vermiliac Inurie A.K.A: - Homeworld: Nal Hutta Species: Hutt Physical Description [!dscrp] Age: 60 Height: - Weight: 700 lbs Hair: none Eyes: one red, one milky white (damaged) Sex: hermaphrodite (male personality) Equipment [!equip] Clothing or Armor: none Weapon: generic blaster pistol on occasion Common Inventory: a datapad of which he is fond of fingering, an entourage of guards. Faction Information [!factn] Force User, Force Sensitive or Non-Force User: NFU Alignment: Himself (The Hutts) Current Faction Affiliation: Vermiliac Kajidic (not technically a faction at the minute) Current Faction Rank: History: [!hstry] Force Side: - Trained by: - Trained who: - Known Skills: - Background: a young, offensively THIN new Hutt on the block, Barga is working his way up the food chain. Ship Registration [!ship] Name: the Bacchanalia Class: yacht Model: Minstrel Manufacturer:Ubrikkian Industries Length: 160 metres Armaments: 6 hidden turbolasers Armor: shielded Anti-Personnel Defenses: Appearance: Modifications: none

CHARACTER SHEET Real Name: Zebediah Caracus Nickname: N/A Age: 33 Species: Human Height: 5'10 Weight: 165 lbs Hair: Brown with streaks of grey Eyes: Brown Sex: Male Homeworld: Nar Shadaa Alignment: Lawful Neutral Clothing: Stained lab coat, hazard suit Weapon: Usually none, can use chemical concoctions if necessary. Non-Force User Inventory: Scientific apparatus (syringes, test tubes etc.) Possessions: Droid assistant "EV-66".

*The scarred man raises one eyebrow and looks down at the hideously mutilated corpse. The boy had died badly. It was as if the Governor himself had murdered him.* 'You're quite vicious, my friend.' *He gestures at the lightsabre.* 'We can rest assured you are not one of our Jedi friends, at least. Now, destroy the lightsabre.'

*Silas is led into the arid cellar of the cantina. The pelt of the cantina's former proprietor, Chalmun, hangs forlornly over the doorway. The floor is dusty, and sand beetles scuttle across it. The bartender closes the door behind him, and another man, a large, burly individual with a scar closing his left eye shut, steps forward. There is a plaintive whimpering from behind him. He looks at Silas impassively.* 'Getting the Jedi weapon was a warm up.' *He stands to one side. A small street urchin, an orphan with no family and few friends, lies whimpering on the floor, runners of mucous dangling from his nose. The burly man gestures.* 'In SEED, morality is a luxury we can ill afford.' *He looks down at the child.* 'Loyalty, however, is paramount. As is obedience.' *The burly man gestures curtly to Silas.* 'Kill the child. With the Jedi weapon.' *The burly man stands to one side and waits.*

*The bartender motions to Silas to wait for one moment, takes Geki his Sunburn, and returns to the counter. He nods towards the door at the back of the bar, wanting for Silas to follow him, and opens the door. The bartender stands silently by the door, waiting for the potential SEED Agent to walk through...*

*The bartender leans in conspiratorially.* 'Friend, I don't care if you take it off the body of a Jedi or buy it in a deci-cred pawn shop, as long as you get it.'

*The bartender looks at the man for a long moment, his gaze unwavering, before he nods abruptly.* 'You seem like a man of the world. Tell ya what- I got someone who'll probably wanna meetcha. First thing's first though, friend. We need a little somethin' from ya, proof of where your loyalties lie. Bring me a lightsabre, and we can do some business.'

*The 'bartender' serves the newcomer his drink wordlessly and watches as the man gulps it down. As he watches the man he picks up a glass and begins to clean it with a dirty rag.* 'What brings you to these parts?'

*The bartender mutters something to the man at the bar. The SEED agent feigns incomprehension and cups one ear with his left hand.* 'I'm sorry, could you repeat that?' *The man leans forward.* 'Can't just come in here and-' *The blow is hard and fast, crashing into the bartender's open jaw and breaking it. His assailant vaults the bar and advances upon the hapless man, blows raining down. *When the SEED operative has tired he rises, his face speckled with blood, and gestures to some of his colleagues. Two men start forward, opening the hatch leading to the area behind the bar, and pick up the recumbent man. *Whilst he is being dumped outside the agent who attacked him wipes the blood from his face with the bar towel and favours the remaining patrons with a humourless smile.* 'Sorry about that, ladies and gents. The bar's back open for business. Enjoy.'

*Their leader suddenly returning from the dead, long-dormant SEED cells are quickly called back to active duty. Men who have lived normal lives for the past year, their dark past suppressed but not forgotten, receive the encoded transmission and take up the call to arms. *SEED has long been a clandestine organisation since the destruction of their home, Sanity's End, and the Mos Eisley cantina had been a SEED front. Since the death of Geki a year ago, however, somebody else had had the audacity to muscle in on their turf. *Several heavy-set, humourless men move into the cantina with a studied nonchalance. Two set up at the door, two sit at different tables, and the final man approaches the bartender.* 'This cantina is reverting to old management. Does anybody have a problem with that?'

*Finally, the vessels are completed. Engines are fired up and shields come online with a faint translucent shimmer. In the midst of it all, squatting like a sleek yet vast venomous spider, drifts the massive Super Star Destroyer christened Havoc's Folly. As the TIE fighter squadrons dock with their respective vessels, SEED's fleet is complete, and vengeance is coming for the Emperor.*

*Ship hulls and interiors are finished off. The final stage, that of installing weaponry, engines, and subsystems, is begun.*

*As slaves are worked relentlessly, the vessels begin to take shape. All craft are approximately 50% complete.*

*Construction begins to take shape on the fleet's flagship, a Super-class Star Destroyer with a modified bridge built closer to the hull, making it less of a target. The skeletons of eight Victory-class Star Destroyers and an Interdictor are erected, and slaves and SEED labourers swarm across the panorama, the lush and verdant Dathomir hanging in the background and providing a stark contrast to the harsh, cold black and whites of the shipyard.*

*Under the unforgiving auspices of Trith's supervision, the dock personnel assemble the remainder of the dock in a frenzy of activity, with hundreds dying from fatigue and malnutrition. Finally, the shipyards are complete, the hulk of the station hanging above Dathomir. Construction is undertaken at once upon SEED's new fleet as weapons platforms are deployed within the vicinity of the station.*

*The supervising agent inclines his head at the Commander's orders.* 'Yes, Commander Vadrieriand. We shall redouble our efforts.' *Above in orbit, workers and slaves are exhorted to new levels. The docks are now 75% complete, and the shape of the station, its metallic girders jutting out of the main body like ribs from a chewed Bantha carcass.*

*Upon orders, SEED personnel step up their various protection rackets, extortion schemes, and spice running to prepare for the coming war...*

*SEED personnel begin the task of assembling the orbital shipyard upon the orders of Command. The docks quickly begin to take shape...*

*The bartender bows his head as Trith enters, as do the various guards.* 'Mistress Vadrierand. What has become of the Governor?'

OOC: Oh dear, oh dear... don't you people have any sense of decorum? I seriously lose all taste for RP'ing when people pull crap like this. Allow me to highlight the 'God syndrome' that seems to be afflicting a great deal of people atm: Symptom one: inventing escape routes. Unbelievable. When I post that the building is sealed off, that includes any imaginary "escape routes" people might happen to fabricate. Come again? You "managed to absorb" an electrical current? I'd love to know how. So, after having been shot several times and standing on an electrified floor, you manage roll across the floor to cover and destroy all four security turrets with your blaster. Impressive stuff. And the impressiveness just keeps on coming; you command your astromech droid to fly your fighter at a single building in a large town, at rooftop level. Let's not even mention the fact that the electrical current would have probably taken out your comlink. And then, you telekinetically control your ship to fire on the cantina. Of course, using your Jedi abilities you somehow 'sense' that the cannons are pointed at the roof. Note: Low-powered blast. So, this low-powered laser blast destroys the entire roof of the cantina. That's some low-powered blast, I'd hate to see what it does on full power. Of course, the poison gas disperses almost instantly. It would be silly to think otherwise. Subsequently, this one-woman army manages to 1) jump into her ship after surviving multiple laser blasts, an electrical current, and toxic gas; 2) Reallocate power to her shields and engines; 3) perform evasive manoeuvres and 4) use the Force to push troops away from the E-web. I can't be bothered to RP this situation out when ridiculous stuff like this happens. You were trapped, but rather than accept the fact that Rane plain outsmarted you, you start pulling wonders out of your arse. I'm not even gonna ask for a mod ruling on this- I'm done here. Consider yourselves all miraculously free. Such cheap RP'ing doesn't warrant an IC response.

(OOC: Damn, I knew that when I sealed the entire building off, making it impregnable, I should have also sealed off the secret emergency exit you just made up. ) IC: *SEED thermal sensors pick up Daz-Ex as soon as he inexplicably makes it onto the roof. Three cortosis bullets from three high-powered rifles slam into his body.* -------------------- *In the small cellar below the cantina, two SEED operatives watch the Jedi above via the security cameras.* 'One of them is feeding off the charge...' 'Interesting. And unanticipated. Course of action?' 'Pacify him with the turrets. And release gaseous countermeasures.' *The first agent looks at his colleague, and eyebrow raised.* 'The Jedi may survive that, but the other patrons will not.' '"Residents of Mos Eisley were shocked today as a bar brawl ended in tradegy"', *quoted the other agent.* '" Several members of the supposedly peaceable Jedi Order initiated a brawl, said by onlookers to be 'vicious and brutal'. Staff, fearing for their lives, activated security countermeasures. Tragically, a malfunction in the system saw everyone in the cantina regrettably killed."' *The agents smiled mirthlessly.* -------------- *In the cantina proper, the four security turrets turned to track the Jedi and began to bombard him with blaster fire. At the same time, gas is released designed to paralyse the nervous system and interfere with the respiratory process. A Jedi should be able to survive it, albeit unconscious; any non-Jedi are as good as dead.*

(OOC: Word of warning: if you're a Jedi, it's a really, really bad idea to follow a bounty hunter into a SEED-owned establishment. You just walked straight into a trap, friends and neighbours.) *IC: As soon as Scando is clear of the building all exits to the cantina are sealed with cortosis-laced doors and shutters, and a powerful electrical field is activated. Lightning coruscates across the floor and springs up into the various Jedi trapped in the building, their bodies spasming arrythmically as the electrical charge earths... Outside, twenty men surround the building in case of any escapes, high-powered sniper rifles firing cortosis bullets in hand and an E-web blaster turret trained on the Cantina's entrance...*

'Is that the craft Agent Faust wants vacated?' 'Affirmative.' *Four SEED elite agents in desert camo gear creep over the dunes and approach their quarry. The SEED Agent Faust had called in reinforcements, and here they were.* 'EMP grenades and ion blasters only.' *As one, the agents open fire with ion blasters, cutting through the shields before Keiran can react. They follow up with some EMP grenades. The ship has several systems deactivated in the maelstrom of ionic energy.* 'Agent Faust should be able to rout the Jedi from his ship now.' 'Indeed.' *The agents melt into the dune, unseen but ready to further assist.*

*On the surface, slaves milled about in blind panic, the battle raging overhead and on the ground merely compounding the misery that was their lives since SEED and the Empire had landed to rape their planet. Slave overseers loomed over them, electro-whips in hand, and shouted out into the throng.* 'Attention slaves! Your payment in Ryll and Glitterstim is to be withheld forthwith!' *A miserable moan went through the enslaved Twi'Keli. SEED had been controlling them via the administration of highly addictive spices* 'If you wish to receive any further payments, you must help our glorious forces drive off these interlopers! They have stolen your spice, and as long as they draw breath, you will be denied your reward!' *The words cut through the abject misery of the slaves, and anger, long dead in their hearts, began to burn. The invaders were responsible for their suffering, and until they went away, their suffering would remain. Angry shouts permeate the air as the gates of the gulags are opened. The slaves rush out, their mining tools in hand, to attack the unknowing Jedi... The slaves fall upon Hou-Jo Poleb's group. They are no match for the Jedi master or his adepts, but via sheer force of numbers they manage to cut down many of the adepts...*