An Uncommon Solution for an Uncommon Problem

[Amelia von Sorenn]

A heavy sigh escaped her lips as she stood silently in the office, hands clasped behind her back as her golden hues looked out over the city. A soft smirk though began to slowly tug at the edge of her lips as she slowly turned, her attention falling upon the six armed droid before her. Nodding quietly, she stepped forward, her attention shifting momentarily towards the armored clad individuals in the room.

Things had gotten complicated, and something that should have been a simple bounty had become blown out of proportion. A legal bounty seeking the apprehension of individuals that had corrupted Alderaan was met with an equally illegal death posting. Shaking her head slightly, she stepped forward the large cabinet, her hand pressing on the edge to reveal the various drinks hidden within.

Grasping a crystal decanter from its resting place, she plucked a glass from the shelf before closing the cabinet. Setting the glass down, the decanter stopper was pulled with a soft pop before she began to slowly pour the sanguine liquid into her glass. Her attention focused upon her task, though she spoke to the droid in the room.

"Alessara, it is time to bring in a specialist, someone suitable for this kind of situation and one that would cause others to think twice in terms of their own actions."

"Ma'am?"

"Send the message Alessara, call him in."

"Yes Ma'am."

The droid would bow its head before beginning to compose the message. A soft smirk upon her lips as she brought the glass up to her lips and took a sip of the sanguine liquid. Her eyes focusing upon the datapad that she lift from the desk in her other hand, slowly looking over the personnel profile.

"Thraxis..."

She mused to herself as she read all the information that the Commenor Systems Alliance had on the individual. At the very least he would make the coming months interesting.

[member="Thraxis"]

 

[Thraxis]

Where was he stationed? Well, other than tied up, bound and covered in lock and key, somewhere in some room on Commenor. It didn't take much to catch him. It seemed to be getting easier in his waning years since he returned from his thousand years of perceived sabbatical. But at the very least this time he wasn't donning but a loincloth. Instead, his armour had been stripped and what he insisted was just some nasty looking bathrobes was really the cloth of some old Dark Lord of something, he wasn't sure. He just remembered that they might be valuable and purchasing them. But none the less draped in the energies of the force, metal keys and locks and a fair amount of alcoholic air he waited patiently, two guards flanking him.

"So. What crime have I committed that Commenor wants to punish me for?" He inquired, moving closer to one of the guards just enough so the rancid air of his breath could roll around him, fester like a corpse as the guard remained sullen and unmoved. Though he was sure there was something. He swung around with an unnatural speed, looking up the other guard with another toxic breath. "C'mon. I wanna know what you have finally pinned. Maybe that time I replaced all the tax meters?" He swung back around, the rattling of cords and chains as he moved, "Or the time I threw cats and dogs off a ship for the sake of a sick joke?" He paused, trying to raise a hand to his mouth with unmet success. "I know. It was about those oversized Latrines I made and sold as regular latrines to the people of Commenor wasn't it? I knew that one would bite me on the ass." He fell down, the weight of the chains pulling him with a thud before trying and failing to pull himself up. "I'll be honest. Didn't expect it to take you lot a thousand years to catch me though." he sighed, through sheer force of will he dragged and pulled only when a guard attempted to offer to pick him up as he met with a strong-willed, yet little success headbutt as in a clamorous display he picked himself up.

As he finished his display the guards lowered the guns, taking a step back as they prodded and pushed him forward, "Ya know." He spoke, about to make some witty remark before the back of his was clobbered with the back end of a gun, "Oh, right. I forgot Commenor had a no-fun Policy." He rose up, an all-knowing, 'awww' stated as he snapped his fingers with struggled success. "So that's why I was taken here." It was followed by another crack to the back of the cranium and a tumble to the ground as in an act of defiance and sped, he crawled his way to the end, it wasn't hard to figure out he was wanted in the door at the end of the hallway.

With his star-studded entrance, a makeshift mix of clambering chains, guards hollering dark robes dirtied on trodden floors and a roll be bolted in, on all fours like some mangy dog as he quickly climbed up whatever seat he could and as the guards finally broke in, there he was, looking at Madam Fang, legs crossed as a pained expression crossed his face. The position alone was excruciating, but he had a certain patter about him he wasn't about to sacrifice due to some lousy lot of chains. "Hello, Madam Fang." He tried to pull back the hood, only for it to drop further and with some degree of calm tried to pretend as if it all went to plan. "You have caught my attention. And myself." A long smile stretched across his hidden face, scar marks bent and wrinkles burnt as he tried to make some genuine expression of shock, charm and horrible pain. "Please. Tell me why you grace my presence."
[member="Amelia Sorenn-Syrush"]