Paradise Lost

[Solus Genet]

Theme

The Paradise Casino & Resort | Rishi​

Solus was starting to think she was cursed. It seemed like no matter where she went these days it was inevitable that some sort of large attack from the sky would follow. And it always happened at the places she least expected it. Naboo, calm tranquil, little world far away. Go there to rob a bank, and what happens? The Freaking Imperium shows up with an invasion fleet. Go to Rishi to finally actually visit that place your father had built, and what happens? Gunships start appearing, strafing the buildings, and everything.

Solus had gone to the Paradise because, well the stresses of the whole intergalactic conflict thing were kinda a lot to take. Everyone needed a break now and then, and she'd missed the opening of the Resort. Jack had asked her to come, and she'd said she would, but she hadn't kept her word in that case. She'd been more than a little busy, and now that she'd actually come to the place, Jack was gone. She'd been hoping that she could find out some information on what had happened to him, it being his resort and all, in between sipping Alderaan Sunsets on the beach. But the sudden explosions, screams of panic, and little bits of shrapnel raining down from the sky.

The first sign that something had gone wrong had been some talk about some place on Nar Shaddaa called the Melrava Complex going dark. The next sign had been when the security had started to tighten up a little, and act a little more on alert. The final sign had been when the anti-air laser cannon on top of one of the buildings had started to fire.

The gun was little more than a smoking wreck on top of the building now, and the security team was probably dead for the most part. The air was filled with Charkarr's and Aethersprite's strafing the buildings, fending off anyone who approached by air, and in the case of the former landing to deposit half dozen groups of mercenaries every now and again. The lobby area had smoke rising out of it, and the rail system that ran through it was broken, with the rails twisted downward, charred black, and snapped. The casino building had it the worst probably, several gunships were still pouring fire into it, and occasionally an Aethersprite would dive down from a higher up position, and rake it with laser fire.

The office complex was more intact, save for the AA gun, but also more heavily surrounded by the mercenaries the Charkarr's had dropped off. The hotel, and the gladiatorial arena were likewise relatively untouched, it seemed as though the majority of the efforts so far were aimed at the lobby, and the casino. No doubt attempt to prevent guests from leaving, and reducing any defenses that would stop a robbery to rubble. This wasn't some highly trained team of thieves with a witty, smart talking, leader. This was an army of mercs who'd descended on Paradise to destroy it. The mercenaries were armed, and armored like those that had assaulted the Melrava complex, with Rivet Armor and VL-9 blasters, but that was more than enough for most of the guests, and between the air support, and the surprise with which they'd descended on the Casino, they didn't' really need anything more fancy than that.

Solus was really started to wish these things would stop happening when she was around. Fortunately she wasn't in the main complex of the facility, but out by one of the bungalows that had been built on the bay. It wasn't a place she really wanted to be staying either, the bungalows being made of wood, and having kriff all for actual protection. But at least it was bit further from where the fighting was going which gave her time to think. There had to be something she could actually use to get out of this mess, after all. Searching the tiny bungalow, she didn't see much however, unless she just wanted to get drunk and pass.

What she really wanted right now was a gun. Not another dart gun, but an honest to the kriffing Force blaster.

Unfortunately she'd assumed that this was a vacation spot, and not a warzone.

 

[Crim]

Before the attack...​

Rain pelted the Dral Gra'tua. Thunder rumbled in the distance as the tempest clouds, ever present on Kamino, rolled in the sky, never giving a hint that they were going to let up. Tamsen loaded a 90 kg tub onto a loading cart. His face was cartoonishly contorted into a scowl. A biohazard symbol was painted on the outside of the container. Inga smirked at him as he struggled with the thing. "Remind me again, boss," he said, "Why we needed to haul 800 kilograms of spinal fluid across the galaxy?" Inga looked at her holographic chart and said, "Because, Mister Turen," she said. "They want it for research. And we need what they're giving us." She looked back up at him and said, "Besides, that's not cerebral-spinal fluid. Those are sperm samples." Turen immediately stopped touching the container, putting his hands in the air. He jumped a little. "What?!" he said. Inga smiled. "Be careful with those," Turen made an even nastier face as he hauled the 90 kg barrel down the boarding ramp. "I don't want to do this," he said through feigned sobs.

Each person hauled at least one barrel, with Tamsen carrying two because everyone thought it was funny. In return, the Kaminoans were willing to exchange the equivalent weight in Sarlaac bodily fluids. Primarily egg yolk and blood. The crew was careful to handle the blood; most bodily fluids coming from Saarlacs were caustic, but their blood was just plain dangerous. Inga had considered placing a Sarlaac on Ciryc'yaim. She'd never see the results. It was like planting an oak tree or any other form of botany. Except Inga was planting a man-eating hole in the plains of Ciryc'yaim. Looking back at the crew, she said, "We have all we need. Let's head out before the Kaminoans change their minds." The crew got into their various positions in the corvette. After a pre-flight check, the ship's engines fired. It began to levitate before shooting into the dense clouds of Kamino.

In orbit, Inga plotted the course back to Ciryc'yaim. Navigator Rollisdottir sat with her as they prepared to make the jump. "Well, if we go through this hyperlane, we'll have to deal with the Rishi Maze. Kind of a pain, but... Rishi." Rollisdottir considered Inga's point. "You did just make your crew haul an obscene amount of body fluids across the galaxy. Poor Tamsen got the brunt of it," she said. "Well, we do have some leftover money from the other mission... yeah. Why not? Let's take a detour. Plot a jump to Rishi, Miss Rollisdottir," Inga said. "Aye aye," Rollisdottir said. Inga walked to the comm terminal and Officer Thirsbin rolled away from it. "Crew, for your efforts in that last mission, I'm going to treat you to a vacation. Paradise Casino & Resort on Rishi," Inga announced.

The next few days were relaxing. Massages, days on the sun, alcohol, gambling, alcohol, gambling, more alcohol, and also gambling.

Now...​

Inga sat in the sauna, taking in the steam. The wooden panels of the sauna still smelled of fresh wood while aromatic steam rose from a sauna pit in the center of the room. Two drinks sat next to her. Both hers. She had no idea what they were called, but they were loaded with cucumber. She stared at the ceiling. She had no idea where her squad was. She didn't care. Maybe they were in the casino, maybe they were getting drunk, maybe they were underneath a prostitute. Maybe two prostitutes. Inga, for the first time, didn't care what her squad was doing. She could feel tension in her body alleviate. Like a veil of stress was being lifted. A knot unfurled in her stomach. She had no idea how truly tense she was. Beads of sweat collected on her forehead. She sipped the cold drink, the fusion of icy drink and steamy air creating a ton of condensation on the drink. She could have dropped the drink. She didn't really care. It wasn't her glass.

A faint rumbling sound echoed. Must be getting hungry, Inga thought.

She fancied roasted cinnamon pineapple or some other obscure delicacy that she hadn't heard of until she read the room service menu. Still, she had cucumbers. She ate the cucumber out of her drink and sighed. This is the life.

There was another rumbling. Inga sighed and closed her eyes. Nope, no danger here. Nothing is happening. Nothing at all. Those are just... rumbles. Normal... rumbles. Slowly, she opened her eyes. She looked out of the sauna's one-sided mirror to the bay and saw udder bedlam. Gunships lighting the casino up. Smoke. Should have kept my eyes closed, Inga thought. She walked to the door to the sauna and opened it. Only poking her arm out, she fumbled for her bathrobe on the rack next to it. After a few seconds, her hand found it. She dragged it into the room, put it on, and looked outside of the sauna. It overlooked an indoor pool. She took one of her drinks and poured it out. She then broke the glass and collected every sharp edge she could in her pocket, then she did the same with the other. She looked for something else to defend herself. Anything that could be used as a weapon. Walking over to the pool supply closet, she found a pool skimmer. She took it into two hands and snapped it in two, producing dangerous, jagged ends. She dropped the part with the net and crouched by the door.

Her plan was simple. Grab her armor in her room three floors above the sauna level. Contact her crew and see what was going on. Get to the spaceport and leave.

Every daring escape starts with something. Inga's escape started with her crouching by the door in a poorly-knotted bathrobe, armed with a broken pool skimmer and a pocket full of broken glass...

 

[Nor'baal Vesajilic Diori]

Heaving the vast weight of a Hutt onto a Palanquin was not a pleasant task, and it was ironically one that - although everyone knew it had to happen - nobody really talked about it. Of course, the leader of this particular 'pall bearers team' would certainly have something to talk about this evening when he got home, as he slid the tail of a certain 'Nor'baal Vesajilic Diori' onto the pall, before allowing the vast Hutts guards to perform their usual checks. The Pall bearer assumed that the muscular guards unconcerned grunt was a good sign, and signaled for the team to heft the palanquin, and move the heft Hutt into the main hall of the Paradise resort as per their instructions.

The back breaking weight that was shared between the team was worth it, thought the Pall-Bearer, as the Hutt they bore was known to tip well. Well, it was no secret that he could afford to, for as the leader of the Vesajilic Crime Family, he had effective control over the Hutt Trading settlement of Jiguuna, as well as control over the Gas Conglomerate 'VesaGas', which was something of a Household name in the Cartel, a company that saw revenues in the hundreds of billions, if not more, plus the credits that the family made 'off the books'. It was rumored that the Hutt had once tipped his driver thirty million credits, and the driver had since retired to a small asteroid in the fourth system of Tatooine.

The pall bearer doubted that this was true of course.

On top of the pall, unaware of the the thoughts racing through the servants minds however, the Hutt rested, watching the hubble and bubble of the people around him as they went about their business in the Paradise Resort, one of the most coveted areas of the Cartel. Walking a few feet to his left, keeping pace with the Palanquin, and his eyes tracking left and right like a hawk, the former Dictator and Political Exile, Ammelleous Von Stienghast stood, his hand hovering over his side arm in a near constant paranoia of immanent attack.

For once it turned out that this near constant state of fear and anxiety would serve in the interests of the mans employer, for almost as soon as the Hutt had left the courtyard and arrived at the main hall, a torrent of gunfire had cascaded down from above and shredded almost everyone holding up the left hand side of the Palanquin, causing the Hutt to fall to the ground and crush the life out of the Pall Bearer Leader. The Guards closed in fast and escorted the Hutt further back into the Hall, whilst contacting the Vesajilic Ship and ordering it to prepare to depart. Whilst Ammelleous adopted calm reason in the face of crisis, his employer Nor'baal did not.

<DO THESE PEOPLE NOT KNOW WHO I AM!> screamed the Hutt in its native tongue, and it cowered behind one of its Guards. Looking around him in desperation, either for a human shield of a gun, or maybe a human shield with a gun, the Hutts eyes fell upon someone he recognized. Solus Genet, thought the Hutt as he saw the young woman nearby. He moved over toward her, his Guards nearby as Amelleous instructed them into a more defensive formation ''What the hell is going on?!'' asked Nor'baal as he switched back to basic when addressing Solus.

 

[Insoulent]

Rishi. The word alone left a sour taste in his mouth. It was home to one of the more daunting figures in the Cartel that just-so-happened to not be a Hutt. Jack Tamblyn. Tamblyn represented the mirror opposite of Arkantos' own shady criminal career. Tamblyn was by no means a physical powerhouse, his empire was built on deals, planning and negotiation. He was a talker, a wise-cracking criminal that had no doubt crushed a few skulls along the way but through it all, he was a hustler. Tamblyn sold sin by the shiploads and his goals, whatever they were, were for his own sake and survival. And Rishi? Rishi was Tamblyn's pride-and-joy, his base of operations, his home.

Rishi was beautiful no doubt, it hosted the best resort in the Galaxy, and it's beaches were without equal in this day and age. But underneath all the shine, was Tamblyn's criminal empire, and a web that connected the infamous criminal to every politician, celebrity and all-around wealthy beings across the Galaxy. No doubt a valuable asset for the Cartel as a whole, it was here that Arkantos hated the most about the Cartel. More than the billions of crime-affected citizens of Nar Shaddaa, it was on Rishi were all the problems in the Galaxy were neglected. Where it was "safe and free". It was a lie. Nar Shaddaa hid nothing, it was public, it was accepted. But on Rishi? It was some dream-factory that kept all those in it from accepting the truth, reality. That the Galaxy was pretty fucked up.

But that wasn't the sole reason he was so hesitant to return to Rishi. No, Rishi was the planet were Arkantos got his ass royally kicked and his connection to the Force was severed. It was on Rishi, were his world collapsed around him. His entire youth had been fixated on the Force, wondering why the Mandalorians that raised him so quickly rejected the Force and it's users. He was Force Sensitive, of course. He turned away from the Mandalorians in hopes of exploring the gift he had, he had joined the Jedi. He studied hard, learned as much as he could. From himself, the Universe and everything in between. Boundaries dissipated, and the Force opened up to him and allowed him to do things most people would consider wonders, damn-near magic. But it was real. He had even gone as far as becoming a Jedi Master. Do you know how few beings in the Galaxy ever reached the rank? And now? Well, now he was sulking in his past failures.

For the last six months the human had been trapped on a planet halfway across the Galaxy as a slave gladiator. Far removed from anything and anyone he knew, confined inside a moist and dingy cell with other slave fighters from across the Galaxy. He rose to prominence, and like many slave fighters before him, revolted and gained his freedom. Now he walked back on Rishi as if nothing ever happened. Nothing changed. The planet was still beautiful. Well, at least until the end of that last sentence.

"Kriff..." a Hutt enforcer let under his breath, signaling Arkantos to turn his head to where the thug was at. Still on board the train that led to the resort, the human Champios looked on as the resort and casino was under siege. The beautiful blues of the ocean changed colors to reflect the laser beams that shot above them. A medley of ships attacked and besieged the galactic-famous compound, and the train he was on headed straight for it. "How the frack--" the armored thug vexed, "No use in worrying about it now, just gotta kick their ass now and stay alive. No way back now." the Champios muttered as he headed to the front of the bullet train. Within a few more moments the team of four enforcers and the Champios arrived. The enforcers wore Rivet-class armor that matched the attackers, though their weapons varied from blaster pistols to a heavier assault rifle. Arkantos himself brandished a simple sonic pistol. While he had the intentions of tackling his demons head on by revisiting the place that ruined his life, he had no idea he'd literally be fighting today. Much less fighting to protect the damned place. However he rationalized it as protecting a Cartel interest. Plus, he had to anger to vent out.

 

[Xeus Qel-Droma]

[fancybox4=http://oi61.tinypic.com/m9cbno.jpg]Xeus had grown accustomed to living a life where he wouldn't know where he'd end up next. What others would consider a lack of stability, he saw as opportunity. Opportunity to see the galaxy, opportunity to reach those that the rest of the galaxy had forgotten about, even the opportunity to discover knowledge others might have considered lost. In a month's time, Xeus usually would have traversed half a dozen worlds, from the Core Worlds region to the far reaches of the Outer Rim territories. Usually, his way of life brought him to places he could, for the most part, consider pleasant. But every so often, Xeus would find himself on a world he honestly wished he could have avoided altogether.

It was Rishi. The climate? Temperate and tropical. The landscape? Gorgeous and unmolested. But the locals? Denizens that carry themselves like the nobles of New Alderaan with the ruthlessness of the scum of Nar Shaddaa. Worlds like these were almost somewhat complex to get off of. Ordinarily, pilots and ship captains welcomed individuals like the Matukai. They deterred pirate attacks and helped to imbue an air of security and comfort on-board legitimate ships―even minimally trained Force-adepts could ward off predatory exploiters. But on a world where smugglers, thieves and pirates were the norm, most would sooner flee or attack Xeus then even converse with him. At best, he could expect to simply be ignored.

"Attention, all hands! We're closing in, now! Might wanna buckle yer'selves in!", the yelling of the small transport freighter's captain was all too familiar. The roar of the engines were so loud, the ship's captain still had to yell, even over the amplified com systems. "We should be arriving on the StarLight Landing Pads in just a few minutes!"

Xeus glanced about the other passengers that had been seated. He stood, as always. He preferred letting the Force give traction to his body, making him steadfast against the forces around him, rather than trusting in the eerily-often worn down and faulty harnesses on poorly maintained ships like the one he was on now. In a manner of speaking, he passed it off as supplemental meditation.

There were mostly Humans on-board. A few Twi'leks, some Rodians and Grans, even a Nikto or two. Several often sweated noticeably, attempting to conceal their anxiety. Some never got accustomed to space travel, others just didn't take well to being on creaking vessels. Some tried their best not to look at Xeus specifically, which usually meant they had something to hide. Many mistook Xeus, and he presumed other Matukai, as Wardens of the Sky. Fringe-world legends, but they still effective nonetheless, and it often amused him to see their reactions. That amusement came to a sudden and violent end as a thunderous shock and sparks of fire exploded from the side of the ship.

The ship's inertia dampeners shot offline and Xeus skid across the ship's metallic floor, scraping against the ground as he reaffirmed his stability with his left knee and hand grating the durasteel beneath him. Red emergency lights suddenly flashed on as a loud alarm echoed throughout the freighter. It was undeniable and unmistakable―the ship was under attack.

"ALL HANDS―ALL HANDS! REPORT TO YOUR STATIONS, ASSUME DEFENSIVE POSITIONS! WE'RE UNDER ATTACK! REPEAT; WE ARE UNDER ATTACK!

Another boom shook the ship like glass tumbling down to a crash. With the inertia dampeners disables, everyone on-board could feel the ship's rotating gyroscopic effect. They were spiraling out of control. Again and again, crash came after crash as the sound of laser cannons collided into the ship's titanium plating. The shields were down, and the ship's frame wouldn't last much longer.

"MAYDAY! MAYDAY! THIS IS TRANSPORT FREIGHTER 12981! WE ARE UNDER ATTACK BY AN UNKNOWN ENEMY―REQUESTING IMMEDIATE ASSISTANCE! REPEAT: WE ARE UNDER ATTACK BY AN UNKNOWN ENEMY! WE ARE REQUESTING IMMEDIATE ASSIST--"

The explosion that came next was deafening, as a searing hole scorched its way across the passenger seating quarters. The screams were drowned out as the roaring of the air vacuuming out from the ship wailed, even through the acoustic filters of Xeus' helmet. The floor creased inward and collapsed as Xeus, along with most of the other passengers, were sucked out of the freighter and into the air, free-falling down to the oceans below. Xeus could scarcely look back up before he caught sight of the freighter exploding overhead. Oceans beneath and debris above, Xeus used the Force to drastically heighten his reflexes and sense of time. He needed to think, and there wasn't enough time to truly do so. There were several people round about him, but he could not reach them all in time. Even if he could, he didn't have a way to save them. The closest person near to him was a young woman, no older than her middle teens, who had passed out from the explosion. She wasn't truly harmed, not yet anyways, but like most, her death would have been all but assured.

Grabbing hold of her, Xeus held her body tightly as a large chunk of debris, an engine unit, began to fall past him due to its superior weight. Using the Force to both give him traction and to stabilize his own inertia, Xeus grounded his feel to the falling debris, struggling to keep his vertical balance on a horizontal plane. They were too high up. While Xeus could manage, using the Force to strengthen him body and cushion his fall, the young girl would have no such luck. As they neared the waters below, Xeus summoned the Force as strongly as he could and performed a horizontal Force leap, pushing the duo out of the vicinity of the debris' drop zone as they both eventually crashed into the oceans. Water rushed around him as he held onto the girl to keep from losing her to the tides.

Rushing to the top, Xeus broke the surface of the water, holding the young girl up to give her air as he beheld the scene unfolding. Gunships were raining down fire like brimstone from the wrath of a vengeful god, pillaging the resort towers beneath. Wasting no more time, Xeus swam to the beaches, taking the young girl and hiding her away in the bushes. With luck, she would remain safe, he couldn't afford to look after her.

::By the spirits, I chose a hell of a time to get stuck on Rishi, didn't I?::

As he returned to wide range of the beaches, looking at the devastation of the attack from a near-distance, the whirring screech of an engine turbine howled behind him. Xeus turned about just in time to see a flurry of streaks in the air trailing toward him. Xeus didn't formulate a curse or thought as he knew what was approaching. Using the Force to augment his speed, the Matukai warrior found himself slowed much more so than normal. The sand, soft and malleable, slowed his movement as he waded through the beach dunes. With every step he took, he could feel the vibrations of something―whether missiles or laser bolts, he didn't know―exploding against the ground behind him. He needed to run faster, he needed cover. And as ironic as it was, the resort was his best option. Out here, should he remain, he was as good as dead.[/fancybox4]