Between A Rock And A Hard Place (Cora)

[Moira Skaldi]

@Cora Passek

All that she surveyed was hers. All of it.

She had control.

To be sure, she was not at the top, she was still fighting for other people's causes. The Triumvirate had not yet seen sense and adopted an even more practical attitude to empire-building.

But the intelligence apparatus of Omega Pyre bent to her. She liked it that way, in fact she liked it a great deal, relished it even.

MICO never slept, she had made sure of it. It would take a while to whip the organisation into shape and turn it into a reflection of its new Director. The wheat would have to be ruthlessly separated from the chaff, leaving only the talented.

So it stood to reason that even at this late hour operatives and intelligence analysts were still busy at work as the boot heels of Major Skaldi click-clacked on the spotlessly clean floor in the central administration room of the building that housed the organisation for now. Moira was already thinking of an underground complex. It might be for the best to construct a ghost prison for the most dangerous enemies combatants, somewhere out of the way.

Out of sight out of mind. Not on Belsavis, that would be too obvious. Best have everyone believe it was located on the ice planet to deflect attention...

Young clerks sorted the colour-coded card indexes on known threats to the Protectorate and added names to the labyrinthine charts of subversive organisations. Gigantic holomaps were embedded on the walls, showing the current state of the Galaxy, with Protectorate territory being marked in burgundy.

Moira paused as she beheld the map. Blue eyes fell upon Atrisia. When would Admiral Kahoshi make his move? It was obvious he would. Perhaps MICO could get involved.

Her gaze travelled downward, passing black dots that marked suspected Bando Gora activity - they needed more professional interrogators - to the CIS, aggressively expanding. Perhaps a preemptive strike was in order, one might arrange something. The room was dominated by a phalanx of monstrous computers and holoprojectors, the heart of the room.

"Ma'am, got something you might be interested in!" Birkoff, one of their tech specialists, shook Moira out of her musings. She turned her gaze towards him, noting with evident annoyance that he was munching on a sandwich.

"There is no 'might', boy. Either I am interested or not," she said icily. "Now do you have anything relevant?" There would be no slacking in her department.

"Geez, and I thought the Colonel was a hardarse," he muttered, but then the cold glare she shot him made him cut the snark short. As far as Moira was concerned Colonel Kerrigan was immensely overrated. "Got a fresh report incoming. Woman called Cora Passek. Sith posted a bounty on her for terrorism. Real funny, isn't, Sith accusing someone of terrorism? What with the planet destroying and all."

"There are situations where the annihilation of a planet is a effective method to cow an enemy," Moira said more to herself. Birkoff seemed to stare in open shock at her, then shook his head, mumbling something under his breath to which she did not pay attention to.

Thoughts coursed through her mind as she pondered.

Cora Passek, she had heard the name. Chaos...although it had been years since Moira had lived in the twilight world of the underground, she still kept her contacts. They had been invaluable on Contruum - an artwork ruined by Republic incompetence.

She made a gesture to Birkoff and he pressed a few buttons, bringing up a holographic projection of Cora, as it had been passed on to the bounty-hunters, the bloodhounds the Empire had unleashed upon the terrorist.

Or freedom fighter. For her part Moira had been quite comfortable with labelling herself a terrorist on Contruum, but each to their own.

"Man, she's cuddly for a terrorist. I get why the Sith want her alive," Birkoff said, oggling her.

"Appearances can be deceiving. I'm sure she knows 101 different ways to kill you. Without using any weapons," Moira said deadpan. "Admittedly she probably would not need any on you." She was such a caring, considerate and motivating boss. "Get me everything you have on here. I want it on my desk as soon as possible. Known contacts, locations, transactions."

"On it, ma'am. There's a report about a sighting on Coruscant. I'll do my best."

"Your best is insufficient. Make it the best of someone better," Moira snapped harshly, her voice was like durasteel. Admittedly the boy was competent and swiftly went to work, accessing reports, working his magic through the holonet, otherwise she would have given him the boot by now.

Some more moralistic individuals might have condemned the 'cuddly terrorist' for endangering civilians, others might have rationalised it by saying she was fighting the good fight against the Sith and the evil they represented.

Moira needed neither. Ms Pasek was...interesting.

 

[Cora Passek]

Safe House - Coronet, Corellia

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Cora was sitting in the plain brick building. It had been an old shop once upon a time. But with the way the galaxy seemed to work it, the owners had abandoned it some twenty years prior. Downstairs, the electronics shop, or at least that is what it appeared to be. Remnants were left behind of a better time. Upstairs a small lonely apartment with two windows and a single door. One had to be in the shop just to find out how to get up to here she was, which made her feel a little safer. With blackout curtains she at least kept questions down, and no one seemed to really visit this section of town. A few people only, mostly criminals, this side of Coronet a blight in the bustling city, the slums. Sighing she was combing the holonet, looking about and seeing what the traffic was like on searches involving her. Ever since the bounty went up, far too many people were looking, seeking her and at 100,000 .... who could blame them.

Her deep blue eyes would occasionally flick from the screen in her hand to the holoscreen on the wall, watching the news. Various weapons and explosives of all different types laid scattered about the room. Least she was good at the hiding part. Being a slicer helped, she could do a small slight of hand, and make the hunters think she was last seen in one location and yet be somewhere else. Though she had truly been on Coruscant only a few weeks ago. It was where she learned of the miserable bounty. Ever since then she'd been doing her best to run, to hide. Miss Corina Passek had gone to ground. It'd be some time before she could step out into the sunlight without the fear of looking over her shoulder. Everyone around her was a possible hunter, another threat on her life.

Finally she gave up, turning off the screens she walked about the space and headed down stairs. There she carefully rigged a few traps, a trip wire to alert her someone was coming, another explosive just past the old counter on a laser trip line, one invisible to the naked eye. She seemed tired, worn, and already sick of running, sick of doing this. But there were even traps on the Don't Panic. Her nexu, Fluffy, one very big one, and a few others. Every thing to make sure she would stay safe, to be alright. Somehow she'd make it through. She had to. Soon enough she made her way upstairs one more trap to set. A blaster set to stun was aimed right at the opening. Should anyone open that door, the simple wire she had attached to the trigger would pull upon it and a single shot would go off, hopefully enough to get the would be attack her. Some day this is all going to come to a close. No more bounties, no more fuss, just a simpler life for me.

 

[Moira Skaldi]

Cora had hid her tracks well, Moira had to hand it to her. The techs were spending hours trying to search for any signs of her. She had indeed been on Coruscant, but alll the leads concerning her whereabouts turned out dead. Only false reports of her appearance in countless systems. She was certainly sending the bounty-hunters on a merry chase. Good. Moira had no time for weaklings, it showed she was professional.
But she was out there somewhere. Moira could imagine her all too well, hauled up in a mini fortress somewhere, traps, explosive charges, gun under her pillow. Anyone around her a possible threat. No surveillance drone hovering above ground would catch, nor would a holocamera. If Moira was in her shoes, she would be the same. Not until long ago it had been a similar life for her. Someone more sentimental than Moira might have felt kinship, but she was not one for sentiment.
In her sterile office Moira sat and pondered as countless holographic projectors and screens brought up a flurry of reports. A one woman hunt for the 'cuddly terrorist', as Birkoff had christened her, was right out. Even if Cora were in Protectorate territory, it would be a waste of resources and she did not want to involve official security organs. This would be a MICO operation pure and simple. Should things work out Cora would be her asset.
Piggybacking on the bounty hunters' operations was another option similarly rejected. Of course expert slicers could try and follow their steps, they could even bribe some of the bounty-hunters, using third parties to mask the Protectorate role, pump them for information, send them out to hunt her. The bloodhounds could always be terminated later. Bounty hunters were inherently unreliable, infiltrating some of their own into the Guild would take too much time. Besides, Moira thought Cora was too clever to be caught by them.
After all, they would not catch me and if she's as good as me, she won't either, Moira thought as she took a sip from her hot cup of starcaf in her sterile office. Here she found clarity as she sank into her thoughts, her mind drifted back to her past as gradually she formulated a plan, step by step. It was not a sudden Eureka moment, Moira was not given to spontaneity, but the gears moved in her mind.
Chaos....herein lay a possible solution.
Simply accessing the network and planting a message was out of the question. For one Moira could not call Cora directly and anyone with brains would think it was an attempt at entrapment or to trace her location, a ploy by bounty-hunters. She will see enemies everywhere. As she should, Moira took another sip. She was on her third cup by now. No, she was not an addict to stimcaf, not at all. She would have to plant a message in such a manner that Cora would take the risk.
All professional networks had their sort of code. Sometimes they went so far as to invent their own language. An entire chat conversation seemingly consisting of banalities such as the weather and the best way to cook bantha burgers could in reality be a detailed plan for a bombing raid on a shipyard. Well, in most cases it did not go quite so far, but it was a way to recognise your own.
Idly she tapped her pen on her chronometre, ignoring a beeping sound from her comm that heralded an incoming call. Access, it is all about access. Access to the shadowy underworld, the twilight realm in which Cora dwelt, which shielded her from the bloodhounds unleashed by the fury of the Empire, the hellhounds eager to drag her kicking and screaming into the dungeons of Dromund Kaas.
She put the pen down, tenting her hands. Contruum. The force of hardened insurgents and untrained irregulars had been decimated, many now languished in the dungeons or had been driven into the caves, where the flame of resistance still lived, their hatred for the Republic was strong and fierce. But she still had her old contacts, career insurgents she had sought out to put the operation together.
The key lay in getting in touch with the contacts that still lived and had access. Birkoff had found the site for her, one of those the Chaos network used for communications, as she found when she typed in a few commands on her computer. Needless to say the average user would only be confronted with propaganda and slogans and advertisements, though deluded teeenagers might think they were doing something forbidden by accessing it. The true Chaos was buried deep, hidden for all but a selected few.
She still had her old codes from her terrorist days, just had to remember as she typed on the keyboard.
The 66th Seal has been broken. Yellow-Eyes has Bobby. Start the Impala and bring rock salt.
- Ruby
Translated this meant the old gang knew Ruby was Moira - though they would not know her real name. The 66th Seal being broken meant that one of their own was in mortal danger. Yellow-Eyes was The Enemy, the all-powerful, tyrannous State, the Man who kept them all down and Bobby was the friend in need, in this case Cora. The Impala stood for the secret chat room of the initiated and rock salt was the key to it.
Moira sent the message, then leaned back in her chair, waiting.

 

[Cora Passek]

@[member="Moira Skaldi"]
Cora awoke with a start, a small datapad in her pocket vibrating. The one from which Chaos was born. Hands fumbled for the device. Soon enough glowing letters became clear to her in the darkness of the old shop apartment. Quickly she typed a reply.

Then the willows must scuttle carefully. The avalanche will start soon. It is too late for the pebbles to vote.
We will meet in the hour of the scampering, red 3.
- Ele

The words, would have confused any normal person had they come across them. Such was how it was supposed to be. This was a call Cora could not leave unanswered. The willows, them calling secrecy, discretion, to ensure nothing was seen by outsiders. The avalanche, the series of events that was being set in motion between Ele and Ruby. The pebbles, the rest of Chaos. They were not allowed a say in this. Not when the message was sent to Cora. The hour of the scampering, the time that she would open the secured relay chat for Moira one hour from receiving the message. Red 3, another part of the Chaos site that if one knew what to look for, one could find.

Midnight was coming up on Corellia and Cora walked across the floor, pacing, waiting. She needed to know more, had to know. A sigh as she flopped into a chair, her rig in hand. Fingers were sweeping over the screen, typing in commands rapidly, making sure everything was right, everything was secure. She couldn't be too careful these days, not with that bounty on her head.

\\: open chat
\\: command protocol 4532.33.122
\\: security alpha 567
Ele has entered into the Abyss: Welcome Ele

Cora waited a moment, watching the clock.

Ele: The hour of scampering is upon us.

With some luck a reply would come soon. Even the chats at this point could be risky. A way to find her, but she couldn't just sit still and do nothing. But for the moment, all she could do was wait, and pray this was not another baited attempt to nab her, for if it was Chaos would be closed until the bounty could be dealt with properly.

 

[Moira Skaldi]

Sitting in her sterile, dimly lit office as the screen came to life before her eyes and the chat room was opened, Moira smiled. The smile was a predatory one, but it was genuine. It was early morning on Fondor, once again she had not gone home to her apartment. Needless to say many of her minions were forced to similarly stay on the job, for Moira had a punishing schedule.
However, they had been explicitly instructed not to disturb her. Unless something earth-shattering happened. Partly this was because she had a policy of strict need to know basis and this was a delicate assignment. They had not yet been conditioned to her way of thinking. But she knew that to an extent this was just a rationalisation.
The truth was that she did not share.
Ruby has entered into the Abyss: Welcome Ruby
The conventional way to approach this might be to try and get Cora talking for as long as her techs needed, for such chats could be a way to track someone, even with all the security mechanisms. There was indeed a risk Cora was taking.
Assuming it was successful - and this was quite an if - someone else might go back to the idea of bringing security in, but Moira would not do that.
The avalanche shall follow.
This was hers and hers alone. Anyone else would mess it up.
She took another sip of stimcaf - who cared how many cups she had finished by now, her mind was perfectly clear and her hands were not trembling - then fingers swept over the keyboard. The hour was late, she had been at work since the early hours of the past day, but she felt the rush of exhilaration.
Ruby: The Horsemen have not desecrated the sigil. The Morningstar is still bright.
The Horsemen had not desecrated the sigil meant Moira's position had not yet been compromised by The Enemy who chased them. The Morningstar was the flame of revolution that could not be extinguished and would incinerate them, regardless of the cost, it underlined her commitment.

 

[Cora Passek]

@Moira Skaldi
A small smile crossed the lips of the blonde as the words appeared on her screen. Ruby, had confirmed who she was with the small first statement. She waited patiently to see what would follow.
A slow nod followed as she thought for a moment.
Ele: The Morningstar must never die. No matter what Yellow-Eyes tries. Is it secret? Is it safe?
It, she was asking of Moira, of her state whether she was fine or not, to know if more immediate help was needed.
Ele: A stroke of the brush does not guarantee art from the bristles. Do you understand?
Just because she was choosing to act, did not mean that they would succeed. Something she had to put out there. There were no promises she could make, no guarantees that all could be pulled through and success the outcome. All they could do was try.
Ele: You must find the Nexu to seek the lost one. The hour of longing coming, and dreams will rise up.
Cora knew the chat couldn't go on forever. Sooner or later she was going to have to set a meeting and find Ruby. The hour of longing, was a time to meet. Though, that time something they would hash out later. The nexu was her. And dreams was both of them. Cora was putting herself out there, way out there. Perhaps a mistake but some things she could not let pass by. She could not, would not leave one of her people hanging if there was another option. Though, she knew too well those times would come when someone would get left behind.
Ele: When pinned to the wall, will you break free, or crumble? The sand is falling through the hourglass.
Simply put, Cora was asking her for details, for what she planned to do. What Ruby's ideas were. The hourglass, a reminder that time was short. There were things she needed to know. At this point, she'd not given a meeting place and would not until she knew more details.

 

[Moira Skaldi]

@[member="Cora Passek"]

Ruby: The Daemons seek Illyria's crypt, but the light burns them.

Translated this meant that Moira was still safe. The dogs of The Enemy had been sent out to hunt down and destroy the disciples of Chaos, but she eluded their grasp and could offer assistance. There was a thin smile on Moira's face as her fingers swept across the keyvoard. Contact had established, the first stage of the great game had been completed.

Ruby: When the stars are right, Quortoth opens.

Any success would have heavy risks and be an arduous effort, but it was possible. Promises were unnecessary, will was what was required. Quortoth was a mythical realm that stood for Chaos.

Ruby: Even a dead god can dream and their slumber is the ruin of stars. Many are called but few are chosen. The Righteous One is gripped tight and raised from perdition.

Confirmation that Moira wanted to help, regardless of the risk. The Righteous One in question was obviously Cora, whom the hounds wanted to drag away. She had to be raised from the depths of the abyss so that their dreams might cometo fruition. The ruin of stars meant the lengths they would have to go to succeed. To help Moira would obviously be exposing herself to their hunt as well, but that was an acceptable risk. However, Cora would obviously dictate the time and place, she was Chaos.


Ruby: The Crossroads are King. The Wolf, the Ram and the Hart fear the Colt. Drusilla has new dolls.

They were at a crossroads now. Given the dark forces unleashes against them, they could either go on their way and dive for cover, skulking in the shadows like rats, or take up the cause again. The implication was that Moira wanted to do the latter. The Wolf, the Ram and the Hart were the forces arrayed against them, the Colt stood for the weapon to destroy them and the new dolls meant that Moira could help her evade them.

 

[Cora Passek]

Cora watched the chat for a moment, confused but almost certain that Ruby was talking of saving her, helping her. The question remained: Why?

Ele: Then the heavens above have held the momentary statue.

Good, I'm glad, is what it amounted to. Safety of others was always her concern. Her own health, life and safety came last when other people were involved in the equation.

Ele: It's too cold outside for the angel to fly. One must ponder the signs of the ancients.

The risk is high. She was in grave danger and knew it. To ponder the signs: Why would you help me? Why do this? That was what Cora wasn't understanding. Why would anyone help her. She'd never done anything to earn such help. Most 'friends' had long since betrayed her and these days she found herself fighting the good fight, alone.

Ele: The Daemons breath can be seen, Angel's wings clipped. Dawn approaches.

The hunters were close. Cora didn't have a way out, she was alone. And time was running out. That was the reality that Cora faced, one couldn't run forever. Even with all of her skills and talents, it wasn't enough to keep her hidden from the galaxy. To keep the bounty hunters back.

Ele: Wings battered and broken. The nexu's teeth the only protection.

I'm tired. You're my only hope. Being on Corellia, Cora knew better than any that time was of the essence. She had planned to run, to make one last show before she disappeared off to a little known planet somewhere off the grid.

Ele: Come what may, the Daemons must not chase the dawn any longer. The old guard stands, despite his age.

She was being a little less cryptic. No matter what, the Sith, (Daemons) could not longer be allowed to harm the innocent (Dawn). The old guard being Cora, she wasn't going to give up the fight, even if things were bad. No, this was something she had to do, must keep doing. There were too many people she'd let down by allowing herself to be captured.

Ele: The hour of yearning approaches.

Simply put, if you want to meet ... we must pick the time and the place soon.

@[member="Moira Skaldi"]

 

[Moira Skaldi]

@Cora Passek
Moira was awfully tempted to take another sip of starcaf, but then stopped herself. Of course she had, in her not entirely modest opinion, exceptional self-control, but she would rather avoid her hands shaking and her heart racing because was a stimcaf addict.
Not that she was. She had control over herself.
Ruby: Mistress Fate can be outwitted and conquered Wesley raised Castiel from Purgatory on the third day and Yellow Eyes was smote. Donanyd has not been forgotten. The souls cry from the abyss.
Castiel was clearly Cora and it was a reference to an angel, the first rebel, driven to rebel against the tyrannous heavens. Breaking down the doors of Purgatory was a great risk. Wesley was his kindred spirit, driven into the darkness, isolated, betrayed, but unbending in his desire to continue the good fight and make the hard choices.
Donanyd was a planet that had once been home to a billion souls until Darth Apparatus had used a Sith superweapon to exterminate them, an act of psychological warfare meant to break the nerve of the great powers arrayed against the Empire. Moira had walked the earth of the dead, irradiated world. She was not one for sentiment...but even so...
No proportional retaliation had followed. Storming into battle to avenge a dead world would have been most foolish, since they could not raise the dead anyway, but it struck her as absurd that the Lady Protector was so focused on avenging a few hundred Ewoks instead.
Moira paused for a moment after typing this. A monitor showed the OPIB report on a failed hunt for Cora. Apparently the hunt had died, but from a source the cops had learned that Cora had acquired a large consignment of nerve gas. A very large one.
There were many things any other person might think after hearing this. Moira's thoughts probably did not follow the thought patterns of most people. Impressive initiative. Now where do you want to unleash it? As it happened Moira had been sort of pushing for chemical warfare.
Ruby: Hellhounds cannot cross salt. The valley of Rivendell beckons. The flaming sword is unsheathed.
The daemons' dogs would not get her. Rivendell meant Cora would be able to recuperate, the burning sword would strike down hounds. In other words Moira would answer her call.
Ruby: The yearning is strong. The bell of the dome tolls in the twilight city of the ever hungry ones. The Reapers' scythe swept across and harvested. The palaces are dust, but Aurelius provides.
The message was cryptic, but decipherable, now Moira was talking location. It did not take a genius to figure out Cora would not be comfortable on a highly populated planet. Moira had no way of knowing that her quarry was on Corellia, but even if that were the case it would not be her choice for a meeting place. There were too many eyes watching.
The twilight city of the ever hungry ones was Denon. Once it had been an ecumenopolis until a zombie plague had ravaged and almost wiped out the entire population before Omega intervened. It was rebuilding, but much of it was still in a shambles and ruined. Millions had fallen to the scythe.
The dome was a reference to a temple dedicated to the Corellian Gods close to the largely abandoned centre of the former ecumenopolis. It had withstood the Plague and the merciless battle of Omegan soldiers against zombies, but the congregation was dead, they would be undisturbed.

 

[Cora Passek]

@Moira Skaldi
Cora's concern wasn't leaving her but this ... something about this chat, this person, Ruby made her want to find out, to trust a little but not so much that she could put a knife in her back. She needed to know, her curiosity getting the best of her.
Ele: And so it begins ... Light the fires and ring the bell, for on the fourth day the angel shall appear.
The young blonde was agreeing, if Ruby was willing ... So was she. The woman could not remain in the shadows forever. Fourth day ... in Four days she would be on Donanyd. A planet of nightmares in her eyes. A place she'd never dared to walk, but it made sense to her now. A place so dark, so dead and destroyed, few hunters would even dare walk that desolate place.
Ele: The wound still aches, and does not heal.
Eyeing the words on the screen that came next, she nodded. Ruby understood, Cora needed to rest, to recover. She needed time to nurse her wounds and let them heal. The constant running and lack of true rest had taken a toll on her body. With many wounds from fights in the past few weeks, from broken ribs to gashes, she needed a little time. Her words merely confirming that she needed rest, to let things mend before they could move on. The poor blonde looked quite the mess, like she'd been in one too many bar fights in the last couple of weeks but truly it was the hunters she was fighting with, getting hurt a little more each time. Doesn't matter how much training you have, a broken rib, is still a broken rib.
Ele: Remember on the fourth day...
She reminded one more time. Four days, and they were to meet.
In the darkness of her little safe house, she pushed back long tangles blonde locks back from her eyes with a sigh. So much risk was going into this. But she never stayed in one place for long anymore, three days tops and she'd already been here two. So it made sense to move on.
Stepping away from her rig, in the darkness not even bothering to turn a light on she began to gather her things. For the moment she left the chat open to see if there was a reply. If not, she assumed Ruby knew the routine and soon enough in Denon they would meet. Packing what little belongings she'd carry with her on this journey. Soon enough she'd learn who Ruby was, and with a little luck, she could help save her from the Daemons. Even now, she could feel it in her bones, they were close. Too close. If she did not go now, she had a feeling she'd never make it.

 

[Moira Skaldi]

@Cora Passek
Moira leaned back in her chair as she exited the chat room. Fingers then travelled across the keyboard to activate a programme that would purge the data files so that no trace of the conversation would remain. One could never be too careful. Trust is good. Control is better. She could not remember a time when she had not lived by this credo. She had her quarry now...to an extent. Cora was taking the big step to meet her. In doing so she was exposing herself, but it was only a matter of time before the hounds caught up with her.
A small measure of trust. With enough healthy paranoia remainig for her quarry to stick a knife in her back, turn tail and flee should she sense something amiss. Denon was within Protectorate territory, the garrison was small but in the time span she had she could easily get a team over, another agent could even act as bait - and potentially mess things up.
She gave the datapad that contained the OPIB report a passing, dismissive glance, then shoved it into her jacket pocket. Not even bothering to switch on the light in the darkened room as the monitors were switched off, robbing her of illumination, she got up. The official Omega organs would stay out of this.
It would be so simple - so crude - to use this meeting as a chance to spring a trap on a terrorist, perhaps get a shiny commendation for having delivered a dangerous criminal to justice. Very noble and laudable, much like something out of a cheesy holomovie with the requisite sappy victory of good over evil.
No. This was her case.
Her quarry.
The Butcher of Contruum would meet the Angel of Chaos.
Cora was...interesting. Everyone under her in this office was a cog.
We shall meet in the place where there is no darkness, she thought with a touch of philosophical melancholy before she switched off the small night lamp on the desk, which had done little to provide illumination, and walked through the door. There was much to prepare before she could leave for Denon and she had four days - to leave without arousing suspicion.

 

[Cora Passek]

@Moira Skaldi
Wrapped in the cover of darkness Cora packed the remainder of her things. Finally she returned to the rig, it had already closed the chat due to inactivity. The log left behind, she gave a small nod noting Ruby had said nothing more. With that she shoved her rig into her bag and slung it over her shoulders. The weapons carried on her too numerous to count, hidden everywhere. Healthy paranoia? No, safety first.
The traps Cora left in place below in the shop, even at the stairwell's door. She carefully went to the window, opened it after watching outside for several minutes. With no one in sight she disarmed the pressure sensors at the top of the fire escape, attached to another explosive device. It might have seemed a bit much, but there was little she could do about it. Bounty hunters were on the prowl, everywhere. Anyone could be the one who brought her in. Even under these circumstances with that much cashey goodness over her head, non hunters were apt to try.
Finally with the device disarmed she stepped out the window and onto the escape. Denon, would be a small jaunt for her. Not terribly far, but she figured she might as well come early. NO ONE and I do mean no one at all would ever dream of her spending her time there, hidden from prying eyes. Situations like this involve a lot of waiting around. Know what it's like being involved with high level meets dealing with intelligence operatives? Like sitting in your dentist;s reception area twenty-hours a day. You read magazines, sip stimcaf and every so often, someone tries to kill you.
Lurking in the shadows, letting them be her cover ... Cora darted through the early morning hours in Coronet. Her clothes dark, her face shielded by a hood and even a scarf underneath to keep her long blonde hair hidden from sight. Dark green contacts masked her every bright blue eyes. The hair, she figured was going to have to get a dye job or be cut. Something was going to have to change to help make her less noticeable.
It wasn't long before she heard footsteps behind her, moving a little quicker she tried her hurry. There was a shuffle that familiar sound of a weapon being unholstered. Cora already had a hand on hers drew it, spun and shot. She hit him squarely in the chest and watched the body fall, however in the man's final moments, he'd gotten a single shot off at Miss Passek. Hitting her squarely in the shoulder. Grimacing, she didn't cry out, just moved her hand to the wound as she walked over to the body. Uncaring if not a little angry, she kicked the body over onto its back, knelt down and pressed the blaster to his forehead, ending his life for sure if he happened to have survived the first shot.
Glancing back to her shoulder, she knew that was going to need some care before she got too far but it was something she'd have to deal with in-route. She clearly could not afford to be here for another minute. Now being even more cautious she moved along staying still in the shadows and soon enough she'd arrived at the spaceport. Carefully quickly she ducked around what little guards there were and came to an old J type nubian, though from looking at the outside one would have thought it brand new. Petrah, was a project of hers, another ship brought back from the grave. Likely one she would soon sell to an antique dealer.
There was a muffled roar as she came to the ramp. That brought a smile, Fluffy had been good to her. So good to her, and sadly her only true companion. Walking inside Fluffy met her at the top of the ramp, and nuzzled lightly on her. He could smell the blood, and oddly enough his four eyes seemed to hold a bit of concern as he walked extra close along side his master and protector. A bit of a stumble and he moved quick letting her use his hand to keep from hitting the floor. "Been doing this too long Fluff ... way too long." The dark tired circles under her eyes, a sign of how little true sleep she'd managed to get since the bounty went up.


Walking into the cockpit, she carefully nursed the wounded arm, Fluffy sitting right next to her waiting as a soft purr echoed through the room. A few flips of switches and a runthrough of the preflight checklist and Cora had her ship up in the air. Soon enough, a false flight plan filed, her transmitter would say she was going one way however in reality a complete different route. With that she punched into the coordinates to Denon. After setting the ship on autopilot she headed back into her own medbay and worked to patch the wound as best she could given the fact she only had one hand to work with.

 

[Moira Skaldi]

@Cora Passek
When it came to evading bureaucracy being in charge of a sub-section of it was quite helpful. Even so the anticipation Moira felt was rather strong. It was not nervousness in the strictest sense, but after landing a catch like this there was some difficulty in maintaining the iron control needed to handle the tedium of management. Much as she would have liked it she could not just steal away into the shadows after setting up the meeting and take a ship to Denon.
Well, admittedly she could in theory as well as in practice, but questions would be asked. She was still only middle management, but even so eyes were watching. There was a freedom of living completely in the underground that she did not have. Reports had to be filed, agents had to get missions assigned, interrogators had to be supervised. She made another note that training for interrogators needed to be intensified.
They were just not...detached enough. Some got too passionate and personal when it came to the 'special cases ' - those that needed breaking - and indulged in fantasies about justice, others were simply too squeamish for the dirty work, taking the official media pronouncements about the Protectorate's lawful goodness too seriously.
Techs continued to chase down leads for Cora. It would look just a bit strange if she suddenly broke off the hunt, even though she knew they would find little, though more personnel was directed to research her background, known contact and transactions, details that related to Chaos. It was still a MICO operation and she imagined that suited her underlings just fine because it gave the agency the chance to show off or rather for them to impress their new boss.
Still the routine of paperwork and meetings was tedious now, even for someone such as Moira who unlike a certain Colonel felt rather at home behind a desk - and also had a decent handwriting, one might add. But now that the game was afoot, that she had her quarry where she wanted her, it seemed so...limiting.
Finally in the early hours of the third day, when Fondor was still covered in darkness, though even then smoke rose up into the sky from the chimneys of the factories, one could hear loud music blaring out of the clubs where those living the high life could enjoy themselves, dancing and making merry, a drunken worker being kicked out of a bar by a bouncer after getting rowdy as Moira passed, ignoring his slurred complaints. The twin Omega Towers stood tall and proud in the centre, reaching up to the sky like latter-day Towers of Babel, which might be quite literal if one considered all the force-using groups in the kitchen soup sink that was the Protectorate.
Even the most glittering reign came to an end, even stars died, but the shadows persisted and it was into this realm that Moira vanished as she reached a small out of the way hangar on the outskirts. It held an unobtrusive freighter that might have been a simple smuggler vessel, but sported strong deflector shields and hidden armaments, the right sort of vessel for a mission like this. Having deactivated the cameras she walked up the landing ramp and quickly headed to the cockpit. She was supposed to be heading for Maramere, a false trail had been laid out in her flight plan and she had engaged a shadow code. Her transmitter had been blocked, the agency would not contact her.
Bando Gora activitiy provided a convenient cover. They were undoubtedly working up nefarious plots. Thus she powered up the engines and thrusters, set the coordinates for Denon and the ship was launched out of the hangar, soon gaining in altitude as it took to the stars, Fondor growing ever smaller beneath it, though even at this late hour thousands of lights shined brightly throughout the city, for much like Coruscant it never slept.
She leaned back in the pilot's seat as the blue shimmering tunnel of hyperspace opened and the vessel took the plunge, setting it on autopilot. Removing a small disc from a compartment she inserted it into the computer. Soon enough uplifting, dramatic music resounded throughout the ship as Moira idly twirled and caught the knife she had carried since Artam.
The knife that had slit Iblis' throat. The handle was made of bone, arcane symbols were inscribed upon the blade. Cutting the King down after he had spilt his guts like a mewling weakling, broken down from his lofty plataeu of seeming omnipotence, had been an experience for her.
She had not realised it back then, but step by step. Everyone could be broken.
Soon afterwards there had been another lesson:
There was no point in believing in anything. Treachery was the inevitable outcome of all affairs.
She tossed the knife upward into the air and caught it with a practiced grip, strapping it to her belt, then checked the repeater blaster pistol, loading a fresh powerpack into it. To her side lay a datapad with relevant information on Cora.
Her quarry.
The Angel of Chaos whose wings had been broken and clipped, but still burnt brightly with righteous anger against the Empire, even with the hounds of hell on her trail.
It was....in this Galaxy ideals were misplaced. Nobly sacrifice yourself to topple the Evil Empire, Moira felt like laughing at the thought. Such fanaticism could be harnessed, if properly utilised.
But Moira felt something else as well, she found herself intrigued even as the cold strategist in her, heart encased in a block of ice, wanted to harness her.
The hour of yearning dawned.

 

[Cora Passek]

Denon - Early morning
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Cora sighed as she brought her ship into orbit above the strange planet. There were a few threats to worry about here. The garrison one, but she'd be far enough away from that, that no one was likely to notice her approach. "Fluff .." Her voice low, "I don't know about this. Makes me nervous." The nexu yawned and nudged at her gently, lovingly. The relationship between the pair an interesting one. She'd rescued the nexu cub from certain death nearly two years ago. After proper training, he'd been a fine asset to her, and a perfect companion as well as guardian over her in her sleeping hours.
With Petrah the old nubian, Cora slowly let the ship drift closer and closer to the planet's surface. She was in no hurry. None at all. She had a good twelve hours till the meet and wanted to cover the ground before Ruby got there. Things to put in place, protection just in case things went wrong. When you work solo, it's about prepping the ground. Home-court advantage counts for a lot. You never know what's going to happen. You prepare for everything... Most bad guys expect you to just sit there and wait for them, like those are the "rules" or something. And Ruby, she did not know. So, it was time to prepare the home court as it were.
Now on the ground, some distance from the city, Cora was armed to the teeth. Everything from grenades, two blasters, a holdout as well, a ornate needle like knife in her hair, to most it looked like a hair pin, holding her hair in a loose bun, but it would have been a mistake to think such. She even had a couple vibroblades hidden on her body. A small leather satchel she carried on her shoulder carrying a few more things. She was going into this meet with the high possibility that it was a trap. It very well could be. Though it would be a huge blow to her to discover someone within the Chaos network would betray her on such a level. Likely would cut her deeper than any of the other betrayals she'd been through.
After a while she came to the temple that had been referred to in their conversation. There was still plenty of time. Walking into the place, her boots crunching softly on the dirt in the floors. Eerie place, that was certain. Slowly she moved through the temple space, the pews, her eyes always scanning, always moving. There were several ways in, several ways out, windows too. Push came to shove she could leap through the glass and make a break for it. As she kept moving, she was pulling a few charges from her bag and placing them under the pews. Truly they looked like little sticky wads of bubblegum. But that was far from the case, they were highly unstable explosive materials, Cora's special blend. The only thing that made them appear any different from gum was a small circuit upon them, no glaring red light, nothing that would dark attention to them. A couple places she stopped and taped an extra blaster to the pew, to the one she intended to sit on. It was close to the front and nearest to the exits, and quite close to a window. Also the alter at the front was within ducking range, and well the pew could be used just as well. Finally she came to the alter, and placed three grenades of varying types beneath it.


With a sigh, she seemed to feel better about the meet now. Walking to the alter, the candles still remained upon it untouched. She removed one of the remaining sticks and pulled a lighter from her pocket. Carefully she lit the stick and lit three candles. One for Leira, one for Alex, and one for Zak. They her friends that had their lives cut short, far too short given what happened. Sighing, she moved back to her planned seat and rested there.
She even sitting seemed stiff, in pain. Between broken ribs, the blaster shot to her shoulder (a bit of gauze and tape stuck out near her neck between her clothes), and numerous gashes it was no small surprise that she was still moving at all. By all rights she should have been in a hospital two fights ago, but she refused. Hospitals, she couldn't handle. Nearly died because she had refused to do so, not too long ago either! She had to be taken to a Sith to remove the rampant infection that was literally minutes from killing her by the time they arrived. Oh, the irony to that little trip. Despite her wounds, she had no choice, forced to press on with the hounds of hell nipping at her heals.
Now as she glanced around, she knew it was out of her court, the ball had been passed to Moira. Soon, very soon it was all to begin. The hour of yearning was here.

 

[Moira Skaldi]

@Cora Passek
It did not take long before Moira made her way into the temple, heading towards the altar room. Her boots crunched slightly on the dirt, but her steps were soft, for she was not a battering ram. The once great temple had truly seen better days. It had withstood the apocalyptic fall the planet had suffered and still stood high and proud, its main tower shooting into the sky, but the inner decay was plain for all to see.
Several wooden benches had been thrown over or were broken or in pieces, though enough stood to provide cover. The glass windows and icons that had once depicted gods and angels in all their glory were often shattered and broken in places, though that might provide valuable escape opportunities, while walls were scorched by blaster bolts. As she passed a corner and headed in, cautiously taking a peek first, Moira noticed that one wall had been stained by a pentagram, probably drawn upon it by vandals. Moira felt like rolling her eyes at that, for contrary to popular belief these symbols had nothing to do with daemon worship, but then the Galaxy was full of narrow-minded fools.
One icon showed Illyria, majestic and terrible in her glory, a great storm coursing through the land behind her, as she chocked Leviathan, the great snake, beast of the underworld, with her tentacles. But Leviathan had been imprisoned in the abyss, chained and condemned to hunger forever, for any prey that was put before its colossal maw was whisked away ere it could devour it.
Until, so it was written in the myths, the Old Gods found that mankind had grown haughty where it should have been humble and decided to let loose Leviathan so that it might gather the Horsemen and wipe the Galaxy clean. Pestilence had willed the Gulag Virus into existence.
Of course, such were myths Moira had moved past from, but the tale appealed. She walked in slowly, making no sudden movements, gazing upon the pews as she passed them. She did not look down to study whether Cora had planted any traps, though she suspected she had, rigged the place. Treachery was the inevitable outcome of all affairs. Moira cocked her head to take in the various exits, the windows, the stairs that led up to the tower, exit doors. Before coming to the place she had made sure to acquire blueprints of the building, one had to check for every eventuality. Bounty-hunters might have followed Cora here, security forces might intervene, she might be betrayed.
Moonlight shun through the stained glass window, casting the hall into an eerie light. For a moment Moira thought she could hear a how in the wind, perhaps a wolf, but was foolish, for the zombies had eaten them all. Perhaps it was Fenris howling from the underworld into which he had been cast, proclaiming that one day he would break free from his bonds and the universe would be taste the wrath of Chaos.
She saw the lit candles on the altar. Honouring comrades lost in the struggle?
Moira could not remember having comrades for a long time.
Comrades...friends...intellectually she understood the meaning of the word.
Everyone betrayed you in the end. She knew this because she had betrayed everyone.
Blonde hair cascaded downward to both sides of her shoulders, she wore a leather coat that had seen better days. A knuckle plate vibroblade was embedded in her gauntlet, she also carried a concealed hold-out blaster, along with the 10mm SMG concealed inside her coat and the knife she had carried since Artam, all in easy reach.
Then as she walked through she laid eyes upon the Angel of Chaos, visibly sitting stiff in her seat. Moira noticed the bit of gauze and tape sticking out near her neck, it had to be an injury, probably recent. Her wings had been clipped and broken, but nonetheless Cora wanted to soldier on and fly up to smite the daemons.
It was both foolish and deserving of grudging respect.
Moira stopped in her walk at a reasonable distance, but close enough. Her hands were clearly visibile, Cora would see that she was not reaching for her gun, but then Moira had concealed weapons. As no doubt her qurarry would have. "The cock has not crowed," she said softly. This was code for 'I am alone, no one has followed me', so they could speak openly.

 

[Cora Passek]

@Moira Skaldi
The temple echoed every step, Cora had known for a little while that she was not alone. And patiently she had waited for Ruby to arrive. Turning her gaze she looked to the other blonde, her head cocked to the side as she considered her words and studied her from head to toe, a cold and tired gaze given. She felt mildly comfortable seeing the woman's hands with not a thing in them. The blonde opposite her, made no movement to a gun or other weapon though Cora knew too well that could fast change.
"The angels sing today." She said softly, a greeting of sorts. A simple hello, though it denoted great pleasure in the meeting. For there were many colder greetings she could have used.
With a hand she motioned for her to join her, to sit. For this was all the trust Moira would get until she could prove herself. "Other side of the pew, but sit, please." Cora wanted distance. Distance gave her reaction time which in her current state she desperately needed. She left her hands visible, but one rested on her hip upon the leather above her holster. Clearly the angel of Chaos was highly leery and ready to spring should it be required. Her eyes never moved from the woman at all but her ears keenly paying attention to every background sound that she could take in around them. The dirt and shattered glass upon the floors a good indicator if anyone joined them. A warning that would be. One didn't always need fancy alarm systems to know they were not alone. Some things are so low tech but worked so well.
Patiently she waited for the woman to take her seat. Lifting a single finger, she indicated for the woman to wait a moment. Slowly cautiously she slipped a hand into her pocket and retrieved a simple device. Moving even slower still, she set it down on the bench between them and activated it. Moira would have recognized the device, likely having seen a few in her time. It wasn't a bug killer per say but it impaired the bugs frequency, sounding like little more than static to the listener on the other side of the bug. It prevented anything from getting through. "We can talk freely now, for certain." She said as she withdrew her hand and brought it back to rest on her hip. There were just some things she could not trust and being listened in on, was one of them.
"You are not someone I remember, Ruby. Not at all. Maybe just my memory fails me this time. Perhaps we have met and if we have, I'm sorry that I do not recall you." A sigh came, with a hiss as broken ribs shifted in her chest. A hand went to clutch at them willing the pain away, pushing it from her mind. She simply did not have time to hurt right now. And she loathed showing such weakness just seconds into a meet. "Wounds that need time to heal, such an inconvenience if you ask me."
Once more she studied the woman, "You said you might be able to help me, despite the risks. You got any solid plans on that?" She asked firmly, if not a little coldly. Cora needed the help but she needed someone who she could trust and had a good head on their shoulders. Especially given the hunters now that kept cropping up everywhere.

 

[Moira Skaldi]

@Cora Passek
She kept her distance. Good. Caution was an important virtue, being properly paranoid was healthy. Moira looked approvingly when Cora activated her bug jamming device, making sure they were not being watched, for Moira could not have discounted the possibility.
The Angel of Chaos looked like hell, wings ripped and shredded by the hellhounds. She could so easily be burnt out by her passion, much like Daedalus was fried by the sun. Suspicions on her part would be easily aroused. Care would have to be taken to handle her. Was it too much an investment? The answer was resolutely no because thus Moira had decided.
Moira looked to no guide but herself.
Again it would have been frightfully easy to succumb to the temptation of setting Cora up and deploying a team. Doubtless the temple was mined with enough explosives to turn that into a bloodbath. Trust was good, control was better.
She noted the evident pain the woman was in, not staring, for if Cora was anything like Moira she would loathe admitting weakness to anyone, but being attentive, though Moira did not fall into the temptation of getting up and offering medical help. That would come later. Sudden movements might not be taken kindly. The balance established between them was still tenuous.
Though she could not shake off the feeling that she might have to sedate her to make sure she got some proper rest. Cora was useless to her dead and from Moira's perspective she was making quite an investment into her. "Also a spur-on to make the enemy feel the same pain ten-fold. So that he will not get up again," she spoke calmly.
When Cora made her query, spoken with a cold edge, Moira did held her gaze, not flinching from the challenge. "You put the enemy on notice, bounty hunters are swarming after you." Technically she was also wanted in Protectorate space for the acquisition of a very substantial consignment of nerve gas, but that would not merit the death sentence, but Moira left that out. That was something for Director Skaldi to know, not Ruby. Regarldess Moira did not waste time with small talk but got straight to the point.
"You need to lie low for a while if the cause is to continue. Rest, new IDs. When we strike the enemy must not see it coming. You need a place out of sight, out of mind....Vandelhelm. Third-rate mining colony, sparsely populated, minimal OP military presence. Far away from the hot spots of their 'Reaver war'. Surveillance on incoming ships is pitiful."
Ages ago Omega Pyre had wiped out a pirate nest on the planet, then killed a thresher maw. Since then nothing important had happened there, the joke was that Colonel Kerrigan sent all the grunts that annoyed her to the planet until the absolute tedium taught them some discipline. Outside the wind howled, then the clouds broke open and rain poured down.
"I can set you up with a safe house through a...contact. Liebknecht. One of the Contruum rebels that escaped," she let those words hang. Contruum had been the abortive hurrah of workers' revolutionaries and rebels, all gathered to fight The Man, only to be let down by the Republic. In retrospect perhaps this should have been a surprise. Indeed there had been contingency plans to deal with the rebels once the plutocrats had been overthrown.
But if you betrayed, you betrayed wisely. Cora would be able to verify the name through her slicing, though it was obviously an alias, but a genuine one. Moira had managed to salvage some of her old contacts there. Many rebels had been left behind. Doubtless quite a few wanted to kill her, but then there was also a bounty still on her head back there. She imagined that if she were to return the vengeful rebels and mercenaries might get into a shoot-out about who got to lynch her first.
Ah, the irony of it all.

 

[Cora Passek]

@Moira Skaldi
Cora nodded slowly. "Believe me, you should seen the other guy. A shame to waste such talent but alas, it is what it is." She said coldly. It was a fact of life. Simple hard fact that in order to survive, some people were going to have to die. Those who tried to kill her, doubly so.
Moira was right about one thing, sudden movements, not a good idea. Not right then, not when Cora was riding the very edge of fight or flight every minute of every day. It was no small wonder she hadn't collapsed from sheer exhaustion. A smile came at the mention of the enemy but soon faded as she had to be reminded of the hunters. "They ... don't give up. Every corner, every turn a new threat." She hated it so much, but it was unavoidable. The nature of the game she played.
"I know. Have to. I can't keep doing this, not much longer. Not with the way I am right now. But it has to continue. The work can't stop." Reaching slowly into her pocket she withdrew a couple tablets. One a stim, the other to manage the pain. Quickly she popped them into her mouth and focused back onto Ruby.
Her brow furrowed at the mention of Valdelhelm. "Can't say I know the place, and perhaps that is a good thing. Then they won't be looking that way. Even this world, not a place I ever came to, until now. Sad part is most of my own safe houses are useless. Never stay more than a day, maybe two anywhere now. Been using hotels under assumed names. Always a room close to the exits far from the lifts, no windows. It works, but not ideal. But I've got no place else I can truly stay for long. Even a day feels like too much now."
She sighed, having doubts of how long she could rest for. "Don't know how long I can possibly rest undisturbed." Something in her eyes twitched, she didn't want to rest either. She still wanted to keep going, that much was clear in her eyes. Even with all the injuries, she didn't seem to care. Her life had been about one thing, one singular goal and she was going to get it.
Her thoughts drifted to the offer. Every part of her wanted to snatch the opportunity, but trust held her back. "Why do you want to help me? How do I know that this isn't just another elaborate setup?" She spoke, a bit saddened that she had to ask such things of her own network of people, but at this point when the deck was so much stacked against her, there was no other option but to question everything. "And this contact not a hunter?" She planned to look things up, was about to reach into her jacket to withdraw a datapad to do so. But ... with the nature of Cora and her affairs, danger really was just around the corner.


Glass crunched under a booted foot, some distance away from the pair. Not quite to the main alter room. Cora jumped instantly hands on her blaster, drawing it. At first she seemed hesitant where to aim. But Moira, was just as much an unknown as anyone else. "Thought you said we were alone." Her eyes narrowed as she dropped down low, making sure she was out of sight.
Eyes flicked between the direction of the sound and Moira, unsettled, unnerved. It seemed there was no where that would truly be safe for the Angel of Chaos. Not even here on this baron world. Her heart, pounding in her ears, she could not do this. Too weak, too wounded to keep going. But there was no choice. None at all. This was do or die. At that point, all she knew was someone was coming, and she and Ruby were no longer alone.

 

[Moira Skaldi]

@Cora Passek
Abruptly the fragile tranquility that had been established in the temple hall between them was broken. Distrust was creeping in, just when Moira was making some progress. Moira had been about to formulate a response to Cora's queries when she heard the sound of footsteps, glass brunching under a heavy boot, then Cora dropped down.
Who could it be? Had bounty-hunters pinpointed their location? Had someone at MICO grown suspicious and followed her? Moira knew very well that in the agency she was feared rather than loved, there were enough agents still there who distrusted her and detested her methods.
Of course, they had every reason not to trust her.
It might just be unlucky and incredibly stupid civilian, even an ODF trooper. However, as interesting as all these possibilities were, Moira was not focusing on them. Truth be told, she did not care whether it was an innocent or a genuine enemy. Pure focus had taken over in her mind, the mission was what mattered. The mission, the one she had given herself, without any prodding from high command, any order from some Exarch, was to win Cora over.
Win her over for herself. Once this was clarified the rest was brutally simple. Cora was on the run, the hounds of hell had been let loose on her, she was on her last legs, the wings of the Angel had been torn.
The intruder was a disturbance and had, either willingly or unwittingly, gotten in the way of Moira's plans. Ergo he or she had to be terminated with extreme prejudice. To get in the way of Moira was to court death.
"An error," she said flatly, betraying no trace of anxiety in her voice though she felt the nervous tension. However, even as the words left her lips she was taking action, turning to walk cautiously towards the sound of the noise. Needless to say Cora could easily use this chance to flee by jumping out of a window or perhaps shoot her, logically concluding that Moira had set her up, but there was no prize without risk.
Yes, even Moira sometimes fell prey to cheesy one-liners. Admittedly not as often as Colonel Kerrigan, who seemed to be under the impression that spouting lines from holomovies made her seem unusually witty. She snuck quietly, positioning herself against the wall as she moved along it, her hand reached towards her right thigh to pull it out, gritting her teeth, eyes narrowed as glass crunched and the footsteps came closer.
The intruder passed through the entrance, taking in the scenery. He was kitted out as an ODF trooper, blaster rifle slung over his shoulder, though he had taken the helmet off. As he gazed upon the ruined icons, Moira had already burst out of cover in a flash and to his evident surprise. Before even a gasp of surprise could escape him or he had the chance to bring up his rifle she had surged forward and slashed across his throat, delivering a kick to the groin in the same motion. Blood splattered upon the blade and he went down and slumped, dead.
There was not a hint of a remorse on her face. His identity made no difference. Wrong place, wrong time, stood in the way. There was no need to rationalise and moralise it for her.
"It has been corrected," she said flatly as she bent down to take the soldier's comm and deactivate it. "You have every reason to be distrustful. It is what keeps us alive. You have fire and a ruthless strength to fight few people possess, even now when you're cornered. You realise the only way to fight fire is with fire. and terror. You do not know me, you have every reason to trust no one, but it's only a matter of time before the Empire's dogs pick up your trail. Come with me if you want to live."

 

[Cora Passek]

@Moira Skaldi
Cora remained huddled in her corner, a part of her watched to see what would happen before she made a move. Ruby she wanted to trust, wanted it to be real to have a chance at freedom, to have a chance to strike back at the sith that had hurt her so. She was waiting her hand on the remote detonators closest to the back of the alter room. Eyes flicking over the scene, watching, waiting. She seemed to relax as the body fell to the floor. Closing her eyes for a moment she seemed relieved that it was over for the second. It was hardly over for good and Cora knew it. They would still chase her, hunt her ruthlessly.
Slowly Cora stood up, the pain so obvious in her face. She cared nothing for the fallen man. She was past such things. He was in the way, a threat. It had to be ended. Not even the blood seemed to bother her and there was more than a fair amount that he was pooled in. A heavy sigh fell from her lips, her shoulders slouching a little. She was so worn. For a moment she considered the words in which Ruby had spoken. The time had come, either she was all in or she was going to have to fold.
For a change things seemed to be in her favor. There was no way she was folding now She'd come too far for that. An understanding came into her eyes. For even if this was to be the way it ended, at least it would be over. And well if it wasn't, it would be a happy surprise. A relief to know that she just might be capable to give her trust again. "There is no choice. One way or another, it has to come to a close. The time has come to stop running."
Slowly she moved, peering out the window on the streets. "I will go with you, follow this through to whatever end it brings us to. I do pray, it is not my own." For a moment she paused eyes moving hoping no other men would follow that one. The urge to get moving was bothering her now that a body was on the floor. "This isn't to say I am trusting you. Not quite the same thing." The doubt in her eyes, that she was almost certain she'd never trust again.
"Just for the time being, it is too dangerous for me to be alone. Wounded, I am not a fool, I know some of the injuries of late are more dangerous than others. Don't even trust enough to let a hospital treat me." Another sigh, this one hurt, making her cough hard, nearly doubling over. It took a moment before she could speak again, "I can't." She'd lost her leg, giving doctors trust and free reign over her body, and that a mistake she would not make again.
"So let's make this simple, if you are going to kill me, just get it over with. Don't jerk my chain, okay?" She paused "And if you're not, lets go. This place, is making me nervous." More so than you already are? Yes ... Even as she spoke she was already heading towards the side exit closest to her, after she reached under her seat and grabbed the blaster she had left taped there, just in case. One could never be too careful. At this point, she didn't even care if Ruby was to shoot her, she could, her back was turned. One way or another, things were going to start changing.