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Bloody Black Chains

A staging-point for declarations of war and other major diplomatic events. [In character]
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Setulan
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Inoffensive Centrist Democracy

Bloody Black Chains

Postby Setulan » Fri Dec 28, 2018 8:25 pm

Beggars Cove, Vaggar Reach

Screams. So many screams. So familiar. So close. So close.

Breath coming ragged out of her throat Korra Wicks crushed another warrior bug with her hammer, the being exploding from the force of the strike. Towering over the creatures around her she took another lurching step and unleashed a hail of automatic fire from the spinning Vulcan cylinders on her wrist. More bugs turned to pink mist under the volley and added to the pile of corpses at her feet. Another step, mud clinging to the burned bottoms of her black armor. She tried to fire her micro-missiles at a cluster of insects dashing in her direction but only two coughed out of their launcher before her HUD flashed red, the telltale ammo out symbol in her eyes for mere moments before she swung up her Banshee and let loose more heavy rail fire. The barrels were glowing red and heat warnings were glaring persistently in her face but she ignored them all. She was almost there. Almost to...

The screams stopped and the squad status in her helmet flashed from yellow to red.

"Collins! Collins!! COLLINS!"

Ignoring the warnings that flashed and shrilled, threatening her with sensory overload, she engaged her jump jets and blasted out of the sucking mud on a parabolic arc that took her over a group of hissing warriors. Her jets failed halfway through their burn and she plummeted back to the surface. As the undulating mass below looked up she hit the ground like a blood stained comet and began to swing. She had to get to Collins. She had to...


Azure View District, Illesia, Alversia
5 Months Later



Korra took one step into the bar and smiled as the smell hit her. It wasn't a good smell, really; cheap beer, a slight hint of piss from the corner bathroom that probably hadn't been cleaned in a week or two, stale tobacco. It was, however, a smell that scratched the itch she had been looking for. It was so hard to find a good dive bar in Illesia and she had almost given up hope after being told the nearest dive was the five star reviewed pub two blocks from her hotel. She'd checked it out just to be sure but after a quick inspection of the bathroom showed no penises doodled onto the stalls she realized it wasn't what she was looking for. She didn't even know the name of the place she found herself in now. It was perfect.

Sidling up to the mostly empty bar the Confederate slipped onto a stool that seemed just a bit too tall for her, eyeing the ass on an Alversian woman who was stumbling to a table. She smiled as she turned back the bartender, nodding a quick greeting.

"Something Setulan and strong."

"We got some Lilith Brown on tap. Last keg I could get my hands on, with the supply down. It'll cost." Korra had to resist rolling her eyes. Damn near every bar she'd been to across AXIS space sang the same song. She knew good and goddamn well that the woman probably had a storeroom full of Setulan beer. Bartenders using the Exile War to jack up prices left a bad taste in her mouth, but it wasn't like she was at the nice pub down the street either. She knew what she was getting into.

"That'll work."

Credits slid across the bar and beer was returned. A perfect half inch of head on top earned the bartender a small salute with the glass that was returned with a self satisfied nod. So settled Korra pulled out her phone and accessed the 'net. She had been on Alversia for two weeks so far and was already bored. It wasn't the place that made her want to tear out her hair - it was the people. They all walked around like they had sticks up their asses. Everything was clean, everyone was so nice and snotty. She'd come to Alversia on the recommendation of a friend on Carson who had served alongside the Alversian 16th Field Army during the Liberation War. He would go on and on about the tough as nails badasses and how fun they were. The friend he'd hooked her up with on the surface was, unfortunately, still in the Army, and had been rotated out of system three days before Korra's arrival. So with no place to crash, no one to show her around, and nothing to do, she had been left to her own devices.

Fuck it. No one could say she hadn't given it a good try. It was time to move on, maybe come back some other time when her friend's friend was around. Absentmindedly playing with the black chain around her neck she flipped through spaceport schedules. Where to go next? She'd been to Setulan first, of course. Describing it in religious terms made some people uncomfortable but the fact was that for many Confederates travelling to the Liberator's planet had become something of a pilgrimage. It was still devastated from the war though recovering as well as could be expected and they loved having Confederates around. Setulan and its moons had been interesting, sure, but they'd also been incredibly fun. It was hard to pay for her own drinks most nights and she'd ended up travelling around with a Drakon of all things, the two of them seeing the sights for months together before he returned home.

Then there had been a quick hit to the Berrax homeworld, followed by a slightly longer stay with the Alumina. Alversia had been a natural next choice. But next...?

She was still pondering when a large figure eased onto the seat next to her. The Alversian woman towered over her even while seated and her leer was clear as she not very discretely looked down the front of Korra's shirt.

"Double of Vat 99, Jenny, and another of whatever my friend here is drinking." She turned to the Confederate. "Hey baby. You don't mind, do you? You're just very beautiful."

Korra eyeballed the drink in front of her, which was still three quarters full. Shooting a glance at the woman next to her she gave her a half smile.

"I'm good. Thanks." She turned back to her schedules. Maybe Xiscapia? She had put off going because everyone said it was so great, which she acknowledged intellectually was stupid. She resented feeling pushed to it, but...

"You're not that good, actually." Her tone now nasty the Alversian leaned in, breathing sour whiskey into the Confederate's face. "Don't know where you get off saying no. With that face you'd think you should take anything you can get."

Korra sat up straight and breathed deep. The heat rising in her face highlighted the faint white scar that still ran from somewhere in her blonde hair all the way to her collarbone.

Don't engage. She's drunk. Leave it be.

Fuck it..

She stood up and glared the woman in the eye.

"Get the fuck up out of my face with your stank-ass breath, bitch."

Staring the woman in the eye became much harder as she stood, towering a full head over the relatively short Confederate.

"What the fuck did you just say to me?"

"Did I fucking stutter?"

"You better get the fuck out before something bad happens to you."

Korra smiled sweetly at the woman. She took her beer off the counter and took a deep drink. Then, still smiling, she sucker punched her right in her smarmy goddamn face.

Chucking her glass at another Alversian's head she turned to face the charge.

Maybe Alversia isn't so bad after all...
"When you're as big as a Setulan, you can't go very long without breaking something. Usually someone else's face."-Xiscapia

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Huerdae
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Founded: Feb 28, 2009
Corrupt Dictatorship

Postby Huerdae » Fri Dec 28, 2018 10:56 pm

Beggars Cove, Vaggar Reach

Tal'Ricka had been doing rotations through most of the main worlds he had been to, looking for work or other distractions for a time, but when he came to the APR, he found himself repeatedly stuck. Even their underworld had no need for a sniper. They were polite, organized, and barely even seemed to resort to threats, which left him without even the slightest hint of a job to get him off-world. Instead, he found himself 'enjoying' the peaceful atmosphere and polite society the giant women had come up with.

And the place he found he enjoyed it most was where they stopped being nice. When the few rascals of society found a dirty little place to stop being so polite and pretty. It was his third day coming to the dive, and he had yet to be thrown out. Not a single other bar in the city had given him the same respect. Once he started getting along with his drinking, the place politely and quietly ushered him out the back door and out of sight until he sobered up. They later simply asked him not to drink there.

So when he had walked into this dingy little joint, he had been pleased to see not one, but three drunks arguing loudly in the center of the room around a table, with one of them making the hand motion of rolling dice, followed by a spirited conversation about what those missing dice actually rolled. It was finally a breath of stale air that smelled somewhat of alcohol and sweat. The beauty of the place was not lost on him.

It was where he got drunk, having tried and failed to acclimate to the local brews, and finding the Setulan drink unreasonably priced, while a lot of the Xiscapian stuff was just not to his taste. Everyone wanted to have something far too complex and full of pointless little hints of tastes and aftertastes. Somehow, in a whole new galaxy, the stuff he found that he liked came from way back home. It cost a tiny bit more than local stuff, but it wasn't matching the hike they had on Setulan. Dead Man's Mead, S&M, Suronne Mead, it had a million names and a dozen colors, but it was nice to have a sweet, simple drink wash over your tongue. Especially when things were always so damned quiet. Every day waking up felt so much like those two days after both his eardrums had burst following a Tocrowkian airstrike that missed him by sheer luck. He could only assume they hadn't fully identified his position.

It all felt wrong. To have so many in the galaxy fighting and dying, and these people were worried so much more about if you said 'please' or 'thank you', and whether or not the correct response was 'you're welcome' or 'no problem'. The idea of it tasted worse than the locally famous brew they sold around here was.

He was halfway through his second bottle of S&M, with his eyes glowing a striking yellow, and the veins just barely becoming visible on his arms and the back of his hands when he saw the Alversian come on to, get rejected by, and then drop a pile of shit on a newly-entered confederate gal. He watched for a moment, mildly annoyed that this sort of thing was a problem here, of all places, but it didn't seem like it changed anywhere. There were always people who were so full of themselves they couldn't conceive of the idea that someone else may just not be interested in them.

Another sip down and the confederate put a blow in on snooty's face, but the lady apparently had some sort of wingman around, because a haymaker came around from behind that staggered the big woman. While the confederate turned to deal with this sudden blow, the bartender hopped the bar and started swinging, too, apparently the friend of snooty. With three on the lone girl, he grit his teeth, but it was when the barkeep grabbed onto the shining black chain and pulled back on it to choke the confederate, that he moved. Grabbing his bottle of mead he threw it at the keep, clocking her hard on the shoulder and causing it to shatter, spraying the yellow-glowing liquid across the entire bar, and splashing blood across the counter to mix in with it.

It was, he realized, probably a dumb move. While the barkeep released the girl, most of the rest of the bar were up in arms about him attacking the barkeep. What had been a minor scuffle quickly was becoming a brawl, and his only obvious ally was halfway across the damn place from him. He took only a moment to get to his feet and start running, trying to dodge into the fray as fists and blows started coming at him, too.

He managed to divert the first and second, but a third smashed a chair big enough for half his surviving family into the back of his right shoulder, sending him sprawling. His gaze drifted up as the original three kept brawling, with the confederate seemingly holding her own, though snooty had stayed back, and was pulling something out of her pocket.

It took him a moment to recognize the monkey fist when he saw it, the knotted ball big enough to be carrying some sort of additional weight in it, enough to be quite a problem. There was nothing he could do except call out to the girl.

"Chevron! Snooty's right hand, monkey paw!"

Almost immediately he got a fist to the side of his head, but this time he grabbed on, pulling hard and bringing the Alversian woman down on top of him where his greatly decreased reach didn't much matter, and he set to sending a series of quick jabs into her gut as she tried to get up and get out of the way of the others who were trying to get their kicks in while he kicked at her arms to try to keep her from having enough support to rise. Of course, it put the woman's crotch up against his face, which wouldn't have been so bad if only it was voluntary on both their parts, and the woman wasn't such a closed-minded idiot as to pick the wrong side.
The Huerdaen Star Empire is an FT Nation.

Xiscapia wrote:It amused her for a time to wonder if the two fleets could not see each other, so she could imagine them blindly stabbing in the dark, like a game of tag, if tag was played with rocket launchers in pitch blackness.
[17:15] <Telros> OH HO HO, YOU THOUGHT HUE WAS OUT OF LUCK, DID YOU
[17:15] <Telros> KUKUKU, HE HAS REINFORCEMENTS
[17:15] <Telros> FOR TELROS IS REINFORCEMENTS MAN

Rezo wrote:If your battleship turrets have a smaller calibre than your penis is long, you're doing it wrong.

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Setulan
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Founded: Feb 02, 2008
Inoffensive Centrist Democracy

Postby Setulan » Sat Jan 19, 2019 8:53 am

Azure View District, Alversia
Random Bar in the Process of Being Torn to Pieces



Throbbing torso aside, Korra had to admit she was having a lot of fun. Only about twelve seconds had done by since she threw the first punch and she had managed to hold off the ravenous horde with a series of rapid jabs and one devastatingly accurate cunt-punt to an overconfident woman who thought she was distracted. In fairness to the Alversians they couldn't know that she was packed full of Huerdaen augs, but they were still having a rough go of it. Right up until the bartender grabbed her chain, anyway. The black iron wasn't going to break before her neck and she began to choke, hands rising rapidly to her neck as the others closed in.

Sudden relief flooded her as the pressure let up and she could breath again, the sound of exploding glass and splatter of mead all over the back of her head telling the story, and even through the blood pounding through her ears she could still hear the shouted warning.

"Chevron! Snooty's right hand, monkey paw!"

Korra responded to the warning - and the accent that gave it- without thinking, throwing herself into a desperate dive as a big fist whistled through where her head had been. She came to her feet quickly and darted across the bar to the knot of women kicking a figure on the ground. She dropped one with a devastating kidney punch that folded her like a wet towel and front kicked a second square in the chest, sending her ass over teakettle over a table. The third backed off smartly and the Confederate reached down with one hand, grabbing Tal by the collar and hauling him out from under the bleeding and moaning Alversian on top of him with a heavy grunt.

"If you want a weapons fight, you got it, bitch." Korra reached out and pulled a pool cue off the wall, snapping it in half over her knee and giving the thinner end to her new found ally. She shot the Huerdaen a manic grin made all the more crazed with the blood smeared across her face. Six pissed and bloody Alversians were approaching them cautiously from across the bar. Two had small switchblades, the snooty bitch had her monkey paw, two were carrying broken chair legs and one had a bottle.

"Six on two, Shield. Think it's almost fair?"
"When you're as big as a Setulan, you can't go very long without breaking something. Usually someone else's face."-Xiscapia

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Huerdae
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Founded: Feb 28, 2009
Corrupt Dictatorship

Postby Huerdae » Fri Feb 22, 2019 10:15 am

Azure View District, Alversia
Random Bar in the Process of Being Torn to Pieces


Protected by the body of the Alversian who was really starting to regret her larger size as she was kicked and beaten by her friends as Tal'Ricka kept her close. It was only when the kicks rather abruptly stopped and the woman was forcibly dragged off him that he rose, revealing that he was still in surprisingly good shape. A few kicks had landed against his shoulders, upper arms, and legs, but the woman had been more than enough protection to have him quickly on his feet, looking at the twig he was handed as a weapon like it was a joke.

At her question, though, his slightly-glowing yellow eyes shot up to her with a grin. "What are you talking about? Sis, neither of us was taught to fight fair. We were taught to win."

He turned, just as one of the switchblade holding women lunged for him, thinking him not paying attention. His movements were slowed slightly by drink, but even so the woman's blade never came near him. A quick duck and a step forward put him right inside her guard, holding the pool cue close to his chest as he spun it quickly, slamming the wood against the nerve bundle in the side of her neck. In an instant, he rotated on his foot, driving an elbow into her gut and knocking the wind out of her lungs as she started to fall.

One last time the cue came around, smacking once more against the other side of the woman's neck, against the side he hadn't hit before, leaving her stunned and on the ground as he stomped the switchblade into the ground, snapping the blade off and shattering the handle as he took another step back, falling back into line with Korra.

This time, when the group came on, they came on in force, leaping over their fallen comrade as they changed the grinning pair.

"You know, maybe the APR isn't so bad after all..."
The Huerdaen Star Empire is an FT Nation.

Xiscapia wrote:It amused her for a time to wonder if the two fleets could not see each other, so she could imagine them blindly stabbing in the dark, like a game of tag, if tag was played with rocket launchers in pitch blackness.
[17:15] <Telros> OH HO HO, YOU THOUGHT HUE WAS OUT OF LUCK, DID YOU
[17:15] <Telros> KUKUKU, HE HAS REINFORCEMENTS
[17:15] <Telros> FOR TELROS IS REINFORCEMENTS MAN

Rezo wrote:If your battleship turrets have a smaller calibre than your penis is long, you're doing it wrong.

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Setulan
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Founded: Feb 02, 2008
Inoffensive Centrist Democracy

Postby Setulan » Wed Mar 25, 2020 9:07 pm

Azure View District Municipal Courthouse
Room 23B



"Docket 21-2-1987, Republic v. Korra Wicks and Tal'Ricka. Charges as follows:

Assault on police, four counts;
Assault inflicting serious bodily injury, three counts;
Simple Assault, twelve counts;
Destruction of property, two counts;
Disturbing the peace, one count;
Public drunkenness, one count."

"And that's for which defendant, council?"

"Both, your honor. They insisted they be tried together."

The judge raised an eyebrow before waving a hand.

"How do you plead?"

Korra stood up - painfully - and cleared her throat. The bruises on her face stood out starkly on her pale skin but she managed to stand tall anyway.

"Uh. Not guilty to most of that, your honor." The judge raised her eyebrow a second time.

"Not guilty. Are you sure?" The prosecution stood up abruptly.

"Your honor we have video of them starting the fight, this really is an open and shut case."

"Respectfully," Korra replied, cutting the attorney a dark look, "I may have thrown the first punch but it's pretty clear in the video that it was a set up. I mean, it was. Things just got a little out of hand."

A panel slid back from the wall and a screen was activated with the push of a button. Korra and Tal, along with the crowded courtroom full of people waiting for their turn before the judge, got to watch the two veterans trash the entire bar in a matter of minutes. Standing over the whimpering bodies of those they had been fighting the two had just given each other high fives and had another drink when the police broke down the door. Korra winced as she watched herself kick a cop full in the chest and send her flying into one of the only tables that had survived the melee as Tal picked up the officer's partner and threw her bodily into the doorway, where two more cops had just come running in. Someone in the gallery cheered. The next minute of video was a half dozen of Illesia's finest attempting to taze the fighters before subduing them with liberal use of their batons and foul language.

Korra shot a quick look at the judge and could have sworn she saw a quickly masked smile.

"Uh. Sorry about that part. Got a bit carried away. Heat of the moment and all."

"Uh huh." The judge leaned forward. With her graying hair pulled back tightly into a bun she had a stern aspect but there was a twinkle in her eyes that the Confederate couldn't help but like.

"Miss Wicks, I don't get many Confederates in my court. And Mr. Tal'Ricka, I'm certainly surprised to see someone from a nation as known for their laws as yours in here. Miss Wicks, to which order do you belong?"

"Mountain, ma'am."

"How long since you demobilized?"

"Four months. Give or take." The judge nodded in understanding.

"And I assume at some point you served with the Star Empire. Hence the reason why two total strangers destroyed a bar in my jurisdiction."

"Yes ma'am."

"I am familiar with the bonds formed in combat. I have friends from my time in service that I would do anything for, even now. And I am also familiar with how difficult the transition out of active combat service can be. There are hiccups along the way. I certainly had a few of my own. But what you did is not acceptable."

"Um. I'm sorry about that, your honor." The judge smiled briefly.

"I'm sure. My verdict is plain as day: guilty. There is no getting around it. However I am willing to consider mitigating circumstances in regards to your sentencing. Due to your circumstances, the circumstances surrounding the fight, and the...overzealous use of force by the officers, you are hereby sentenced to time served. You will be escorted by the police to Illesia's star port. There are ships leaving this planet every day. You will be on one of them by close of business." She banged her gavel.


Illessia Star Port, Reception


After the surly officer drove away Wicks shouldered her bag, turned to Tal and gave him a smile.

"I don't think I ever properly thanked you, stubs. Not my first time waking up in a cell but definitely one of the more fun ones. So thanks for having my back. Want to do it again sometime?"
"When you're as big as a Setulan, you can't go very long without breaking something. Usually someone else's face."-Xiscapia

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Huerdae
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Founded: Feb 28, 2009
Corrupt Dictatorship

Postby Huerdae » Sat Mar 28, 2020 1:46 pm

Illessia

During the trial, Tal'Ricka remained generally silent, simply standing at attention with an almost too-stereotypical Huerdaen glare leveled on whoever would meet his gaze. Surrounded by Alversians and Korra, he seemed almost childlike in stature. Despite that, it was the darkness in his eyes that kept most from approaching or questioning him. His Dread Black dress uniform had a small golden chain that went from his right shoulder to collar was and only barely complete, matched by only two theaters listed on his right arm. His rank, as well, showed him only a Senior Lieutentant, and a specialist. For those who recognized it, though, the true meaning of his gaze came from what those golden markings meant, and where this small man had been, and what challenges must have come from earning each of those many, many commendations that appeared on his arm under the twisted gold of the warzone of Sojent-Ra during the Gate War.

Even as Korra spoke out, SLT-ret. Tal'Ricka stood firm, arms at his sides with the empty holster that went with the dress uniform looking awkward next to his hand. It wasn't until they were finally out of the courthouse that he opened his mouth, words slick with venom as he ranted.

"'Your honor'? What sort of title is that? The lady's a judge. What sort of backwards nations still enforce that sort of entitlement? My nation is known for laws? We're also known for being responsible. I don't know what sort of fuckworld they come from, but how can they think drawing weapons in a fight is reasonable? To get an advantage? Even drunk, that's not how it's done. Not right. Not fucking right."

His spitting and cursing continued almost the entire way to the starport, where the officer was happy to get the angry man out of her way and leave them with the starport security. It was Korra's words that drew his gaze up, and he considered her a moment before smiling, ever so slightly. "Never fought beside a chevron before, you know. On the same battlefield, I've seen what you folk do, but never in person. Haven't been on a battlefield much lately. Thing is, I got a lot of brothers and sisters out there still alive because of chains like you."

After a second, his smile widened. "You find a good drink, we can see what a few more cells look like. Just...not here. This place is the pits. We need somewhere good and dirty after this. At least then it's honest. I really don't know much about the Home Galaxy, though. At some point I'll have to pick up my gear, but before and after we can find a few places. My side of the gates, or yours?"
The Huerdaen Star Empire is an FT Nation.

Xiscapia wrote:It amused her for a time to wonder if the two fleets could not see each other, so she could imagine them blindly stabbing in the dark, like a game of tag, if tag was played with rocket launchers in pitch blackness.
[17:15] <Telros> OH HO HO, YOU THOUGHT HUE WAS OUT OF LUCK, DID YOU
[17:15] <Telros> KUKUKU, HE HAS REINFORCEMENTS
[17:15] <Telros> FOR TELROS IS REINFORCEMENTS MAN

Rezo wrote:If your battleship turrets have a smaller calibre than your penis is long, you're doing it wrong.


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