A New Dawn: A Short Star Wars Story

[Arax Dorn]

(Ambient Here)

"Taris was once a magnificent planet-wide metropolis of towering skyscrapers. But that was a long time ago." - Carth Onassi, Hero of the Old Republic

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In one of the North Apartment complexes in the Taris Upper City, Arax sat on her bunk, her feet both rested comfortably in a half lotus as she tinkered with a small door slicer - a specially procured chip that could fry open most locked doors and computer consoles. It was a basic tool of the trade for most scoundrels, and these past months the human youth had certainly come to know a little about that. Barely a revolution ago she first left the lavish Upper City to save her own skin - an act she then considered cowardice, after being unable to save her father's and brother's. In one horrible hour, the two men who'd been her whole world on this planet were snuffed out. She lost a home that day, but today was back to finish the job.

In her ascetic black robes she seemed to gently brush the dust off the little contraption, and finally rose to her feet as she picked her makeshift lightsaber hilt off the worktable and left through the door. Walking down the apartment hallway as she made for the exit out to the Upper City's floating streets, she reviewed the whole plan again silently within the recesses of her mind, which had long since shown signs of Dark Side corruption.

One of the Exchange's senior ringleaders, an odd old hooded figure known little more as "Sicarius", was in town for a high-level meeting with his counterparts representing the Lower City Swoop Gangs. Whether for what exactly was irrelevant for now - what was relevant was that ever since she and [member=Ember Farseer] took down the Exchange's cell on Corellia and turned Haly Blen over to the authorities, this Sicarius, and his colleagues in the Exchange's inner circle, have been much more careful, and much more heavily guarded. For the next few days, he'd be meeting with the gangs in the Taris Dueling Ring, a nice, clandestine little venue for the seedier transactions that ran beyond the gaze of the law. On top of the building being on lockdown as the tournament ran its course, Sicarius would also be surrounded by armed personnel.

Sneaking an explosive in would be possible, but it may not get the job done. I'll have to go in there myself and orchestrate the whole thing.

After paying off the Hutt that ran the dueling ring's tournament, Arax managed to sign herself up for the gauntlet. Naturally she'd have to come incognito, but at the right moment she'd detonate a small number of carefully placed explosives around the arena (an additional hundred credits' expense in bribes to waiters, but worth the investment), and in the chaos go in for the kill. Even Arax Dorn, self-conceited and recklessly impulsive as she was, knew better than to underestimate a syndicate lord with a full security detail.

Arax now headed for the Lower City Apartments via one of Taris' many elevator pads, where she intended to make for, where she was told, Sicarius' personal stash was being held and guarded. While her primary consideration, as it always was the case, was to cut the Exchange down wherever she found them, there was another matter - a trinket that she'd meant to "liberate" from them before this all began. And although it was a non-issue in her main plan, for some strange reason she still longed after it. She intended to pry it off of the Exchange before the Dueling Ring tournament in a few days, and get it out of the way before the big one went down.

Yet little did she know, as was usually the case in the criminal underworld, she wasn't the only one hunting, scheming and plotting today.

[member=Jyoti Nooran] [member=Charlie]

 

[Eugen Aker]

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Then

Aboard the Rusty Sparrow, Jyoti was quiet at work at her bench, cleaning and calibrating her sidearm. A custom DL-44, fitted with a new ergonomic molded duraplast housing, and improved heat sinks. A few simple mods that made a good heavy blaster pistol even better.

Tinkering with the blaster served as a form of active mediation, helping clear her mind of clutter as she devoted herself to a singular task. Much more preferable to more traditional forms of meditation, especially as when she was out in the field surrounded by danger.

Not for a while, anyway. There was still some time before she had to head out. However, the Echani had already donned her disguise, that of a rather mousy looking brunette of average features, a forgettable face that could easily blend in with any crowd.

Piece by piece, the gunmetal blaster was carefully reassembled. Once the construction was complete, she balanced the blaster in her hand. It felt lighter with the new furniture, but not so much so that recoil would be negatively affected.

Finally satisfied, she set the pistol down and stood to finally leave the converted cabin. It was time to take a break and check up on Charlie and see how she was adjusting to her new masquer.

The initial experience could be uncomfortable and perhaps even painful as the biot first enveloped its wearer. For Jyoti, it was like a second skin, barely noticeable after years of use for all sorts of missions.

[member="Arax Dorn"] [member="Charlie"]

 

[Charlie Nooran]

[Then]

The biot initially wasn't comfortable and Charlie had to suck it up. After it enveloped her she watched as her Seoulian human features fade and adjust. Her short dark hair shifted and became a gentle reddish blonde, her eyes lightened as well becoming bright green. Everything that was occurring took her mind away from the adjustment period.

Poking her face and then pulling at it amazed her. She didn't recognize the person she was looking at in the mirror. Soft little freckles formed on her face and she grinned. This was an amazing tool and Charlie was excited to use it today. Charlie pulled herself from the mirror and sat in the middle of the room. The small training droid that gave her grief a few missions ago rolled around. She adjusted the settings and stood back up. Today's training was meant to help her become more agile. Blindfolding herself, when counted down and the droid started to shoot in an unpredictable matter.

Using the force she sensed the energy from the shots and directed herself to dodge them or use small projected force barriers with her hands. There was no time limit on the droid, she planned to keep going till she got caught by a bolt.

Time passed and she broke a small sweat. Moving far enough away she removed her blindfold. Dodging she made it to the Droid and shut it off. Wiping her face, she could hear the soft walk of her Master and she moved towards the door, the blindfold hanging around her neck she poked her now redhead, green eyed, freckled face out of the frame and blinked. “Master?”

[member="Jyoti Nooran"]
[member="Arax Dorn"]

 

[Arax Dorn]

It's not here.

Arax, shrouded in her black, hooded robe, stood amidst the now scattered portable containers and boxes, with everything from credits and spice to unregistered energy weapons and other smuggled goods. Her brows furrowed intensely under the shadow of her hood, frustrated that the holocron she was looking for wasn't about. By the door lay the remains of two smashed security droids that she carved through - an otherwise messy affair she struggled to keep clandestine by temporarily shorting the apartment complex's power out, courtesy of her Hassat Durr ability. Disabling the power also meant that the alarm system would be delayed until the generators came back on, which bought her a little more time.

The female human could feel the rage building up in her - how could acquiring a mere trinket be so difficult? What was Sicarius hiding in that thing that it eluded her so? She moved a few steps forward, bumping into a few blaster pistols and blast-proof suitcases that fell onto the ground as her eyes fixated on an odd painting on the far wall of the apartment. Oddly enough, it was of the old man, seated in some sort of tacky fashion that reminded her of Core World politicians. Always full of themselves they were.

As she came closer, and under the pale glow of the emergency battery-operated lighting and the cold, fabricated air of the Taris Lower City, she ran one of her insulated hands across the painting. There didn't seem to be anything behind it, like a vault of sorts, but something felt.. off. Arax struggled to pin exactly what as both her hands held the frame and removed it from the wall.

It is such a quiet thing, to fall, but far more horrifying is to admit it.

At first it eluded her, but eventually she realized it in the portrait's face. Under his decorated smile was a more chilling truth. From the way his skin seemed to go gray and deformed under what seemed to be makeup, and the dead stare in his eyes with the pattern traces of gangrenous yellow, Arax Dorn clenched her teeth and her fists as she slowly began to piece together the events unraveling around her:

From the moment she first encountered the decrepit old man, he'd displayed an oddly contrasting affection and disdain for her. While he always sought for ways to have her killed, he also enjoyed watching her dance to the tunes of the Exchange's sabotage and espionage. It all made sense now.

Ahh, Sicarious, you're a Sith, are you?

A little smile formed on Arax's face as her pupils narrowed, and in a fit of rage crushed the portrait with a Force-assisted push in between her hands. It was a raw, unmasked little gesture that would have alerted any other Force Sensitives nearby.

The holocron must be on you then. Tomorrow I'm going to take it, and your soul.

[member=Charlie] [member=Jyoti Nooran]