“Tell your security teams to kill every Ryloth repair team on board.”
“Lord Vader, there are almost a hundred teams aboard! My Emperor?”
“One hundred teams seems a manageable number,” the Emperor said.
– Darth Vader and Darth Sidious ordering a large scale execution of Free Ryloth activists
Her mission brief was simple.
In. Out. Cause maximum damage.
She’d arrived in the Gaulus sector and more specifically, the Ryloth system. The planet itself had three moons and was known primarily as a stopover on the Corellian Run, as well as Mumble’s Turnaround.
It was also the homeworld of the Twi’lek. Historically, it had been of use to the Sith. Count Dooku secretly backed coups on Ryloth as part of larger political attempts to seed discontent in the galaxy’s Outer Systems during the Separatist Crisis. Manuk had done her homework!
None of these facts were why Manuk was here. Ryll was. It was a mineral found on several worlds, notably Ryloth. Spice-refined ryll, harvested from the countless mines that made Ryloth porous – and its derivatives had many purposes, particularly in the science and medical fields.
Ryloth's capital city, Lessu, was built into – and spiralled around – a wind-carved stone spire as large as a mountain. The walls, villas, and more modest homesteads and businesses of the city clung like so much lichen to the face of the spire. Thousands of reinforced tunnels and natural caves also pockmarked the stone. They reminded Manuk of the aftermath of an artillery barrage. The city had seen a lot of strife, as had the planet, and it showed.
She headed out of the starport, past a drunk sleeping in a heap against the wall, and onto the street. The thoroughfare filled her senses: the sounds of traffic and the hum of passer’s by; the smell of cooking fires, spice pipes, and the sweaty, dry stink of a typical Ryloth night. The wind painted her robe against her form and she felt eyes on her, gazes lingering on her sleek figure, but she ignored them.
She hailed a taxi with a raised arm. She told the driver to take her to the Octagon, one of the main plazas in Lessu, bordered on all eight sides by cantinas and clubs.
The Octagon sat about halfway up Lessu’s spire, dug deeply into the stone. The bottom level of the plaza was thirty metres down, and a series of carved stone stairways, tunnels, and balconies, all torch-lit, led up to ever higher tiers and more stairways, creating a maze-like warren that eventually descended back to street level.
Various cantinas and clubs were burrowed out of the stone, their interiors hidden from view. A steady stream of vehicles and businessmen, often in the company of Twi'lek escorts, made their way to and from the Octagon's various levels. Lighted signs and paid hawkers advertised for this or that establishment.
Manuk eyed them from the window of her taxi and hated them all. But for a need to get an access code, she would not have come to this rendezvous point – but she unfortunately had no choice.
@Padmé
“Lord Vader, there are almost a hundred teams aboard! My Emperor?”
“One hundred teams seems a manageable number,” the Emperor said.
– Darth Vader and Darth Sidious ordering a large scale execution of Free Ryloth activists
Her mission brief was simple.
In. Out. Cause maximum damage.
She’d arrived in the Gaulus sector and more specifically, the Ryloth system. The planet itself had three moons and was known primarily as a stopover on the Corellian Run, as well as Mumble’s Turnaround.
It was also the homeworld of the Twi’lek. Historically, it had been of use to the Sith. Count Dooku secretly backed coups on Ryloth as part of larger political attempts to seed discontent in the galaxy’s Outer Systems during the Separatist Crisis. Manuk had done her homework!
None of these facts were why Manuk was here. Ryll was. It was a mineral found on several worlds, notably Ryloth. Spice-refined ryll, harvested from the countless mines that made Ryloth porous – and its derivatives had many purposes, particularly in the science and medical fields.
Ryloth's capital city, Lessu, was built into – and spiralled around – a wind-carved stone spire as large as a mountain. The walls, villas, and more modest homesteads and businesses of the city clung like so much lichen to the face of the spire. Thousands of reinforced tunnels and natural caves also pockmarked the stone. They reminded Manuk of the aftermath of an artillery barrage. The city had seen a lot of strife, as had the planet, and it showed.
She headed out of the starport, past a drunk sleeping in a heap against the wall, and onto the street. The thoroughfare filled her senses: the sounds of traffic and the hum of passer’s by; the smell of cooking fires, spice pipes, and the sweaty, dry stink of a typical Ryloth night. The wind painted her robe against her form and she felt eyes on her, gazes lingering on her sleek figure, but she ignored them.
She hailed a taxi with a raised arm. She told the driver to take her to the Octagon, one of the main plazas in Lessu, bordered on all eight sides by cantinas and clubs.
The Octagon sat about halfway up Lessu’s spire, dug deeply into the stone. The bottom level of the plaza was thirty metres down, and a series of carved stone stairways, tunnels, and balconies, all torch-lit, led up to ever higher tiers and more stairways, creating a maze-like warren that eventually descended back to street level.
Various cantinas and clubs were burrowed out of the stone, their interiors hidden from view. A steady stream of vehicles and businessmen, often in the company of Twi'lek escorts, made their way to and from the Octagon's various levels. Lighted signs and paid hawkers advertised for this or that establishment.
Manuk eyed them from the window of her taxi and hated them all. But for a need to get an access code, she would not have come to this rendezvous point – but she unfortunately had no choice.
@Padmé