Dominion Bloodlines | CIS Dominion of Eiattu 6 Hex

[Eternal Ardor]

Eiattu 6https://starwars.fandom.com/wiki/Eiattu_6, a once vibrant and wonderful world nestled cozily inside the Mid Rim, it had seen it’s fair share of troubles over the last several years. Decades, even. Where a Monarchy had once stood strong and defiant against the rage of chaos and anarchy, now the people of this wonderful world found themselves amuck with uncertainty. Formerly disavowed in the wake of the Galactic Empire, Eiattu 6 had seen itself restored with the coming of the New Republic of old. A Monarchy restored and civility allowed to prosper and flourish. That was until it was stricken again by the cruel games the galaxy loved to play.

Before the coming of the First Order, Eiattu had found itself leant to chaos as a deep cell of a political zealot sought political upheaval, thrusting the world once more into an uncertain future. And further allowing for an effortless assimilation into the blossoming First Order as it spread its tendrils out into the nether of space’s void. So when that political powerhouse itself fell of corruption and happenings unseen, the world of Eiattu fell with it. Back into uncertainty and without a ruling Monarchy of that enviable royal blood from a family forced to flee amid political strife and a foreboding, relentless doom.

Dark days were ahead. Day days indeed.

Eiattu 6 fell into a dissonance. Bound by the competing governments in a struggle to regain what was seemingly lost to the pages of time. And it seemed that as quickly as one body of law swept its way to the top, it would find itself toppled and ruined. Reduced to nothing more than shambles from a political rival that sought the moniker for itself. And world befallen to such anarchy made for a prime target for a band of mercenaries of ill intent. A band of renegades calling themselves the Crucible. A world ripe for pillaging was quite the appetizing target indeed.

The world fell into the cusp of yet another fight. Dogmatic in nature, it was short-lived and the Crucible quickly assumed control. Ruling the people here with something of an iron fist, many of Eiattu’s inhabitants found themselves enslaved or imprisoned on charges fabricated in the dark of night. That was, until the Crucible up and vanished seemingly overnight, driven away by the encroaching power of the Southern Superpower, its sights now set on this small world.

​

Rumors swirl around the idea of there being a descendant of the Royal Family that once ruled here. With the court and palace in shambles, and a civilization bound in tradition, perhaps restoring the Monarchy is exactly what is needed to rejuvenate a distressed people. Learn what you can and see about restoring the heir to the throne.

​

​

Remnants of the vile Crucible remain. Whether members of the organization itself, or misguided sympathizers, they seek out ways to cause chaos and terrorize the people of Eiattu. Seek out and suppress these cells to restore peace and harmony to a terrorized population.

​

​

Not all of Eiattu 6 is bleak and grim. Set out into the capital and mingle with the people and take to the forests and oceans of breath in the wonders of this world. There’s no doubt there’s something for everyone here.

As always, if you’re intent on bringing something else into the fold, you have full reign to do just that. This serves as your BYOO should you desire to do that.

​

Spoiler

[member="A'Runda"]
[member="Adelle Bastiel"]
[member="Alden Akaran"]
[member="Alkor Centaris"]
@Ari Riggs
[member="Ashara Evanaris"]
[member="Beric Layne"]
[member="Bullwark"]
[member="BX-1335"]
[member="Amelia von Sorenn"]
[member="Aston Jacobs"]
[member="Aya Clarke"]
[member="Caesar Kenway"]
[member="Corvus Dravere"]
[member="Credius Nargath"]
[member="Cypher Raige"]
[member="Damsy Callat"]
[member="Darth Tacitus"]
[member="Daxton Bane"]
[member="Destroyer 2873"]
[member="Erin Tenel"]
[member="Eli-Mae Forrest"]
[member="Fawn Alzi"]
@Faye Irithiel
[member="Faye Malvern"]
[member="Felurian Malvern"]
[member="Gerwald Lechner"]
[member="Havoc (CT-375)"]
[member="Holt"]
[member="IG-65A"]
[member="Ingrid L'lerim"]
[member="Ithiel Vi'Dreya"]
[member="Jayce Pryde"]
[member="Jenmae Ophiro"]
@Joannis Campbell
[member="John Locke"]
[member="Jorge"]
[member="Josh Dragonsflame"]
[member="Jyoti Nooran"]
[member="Karlie Lynn Destat"]
[member="Kasca Fen"]
[member="Kathryn Foster"]
[member="Kayla Wylen"]
[member="Kiff Brayde"]
[member="Kingsley"]
[member="Krystal Estain"]
[member="Kurayami Bloodborn"]
[member="Kurenai Yumi"]
[member="Kyber"]
[member="Kyrinov"]
[member="Lirka Ka"]
[member="Luna Terrik"]
[member="Luna Vega"]
[member="Lyla Quinn"]
[member="Maani"]
[member="Maple Harte"]
[member="Maria Savilia"]
[member="Maur"]
[member="Mauer"]
[member="Muad Dib"]
[member="Nine Lives"]
[member="Oax Ordo"]
[member="Petra Cavataio"]
[member="Pom Stych Tivé"]
[member="Qaarssk Roark"]
[member="R4-AUD"]
[member="Razelle Breuner"]
[member="Roy Americus"]
[member="Rylan Kordel"]
[member="Sor-Jan Xantha"]
[member="Srina Talon"]
[member="Startorn"]
[member="Subject 73 Red"]
[member="Talon Rahl"]
[member="Thalliesin Bard"]
[member="ToKola Bakari"]
[member="Teyla Riggs"]
[member="Tess Valnora"]
[member="Vanric Dannon"]
[member="Veronika Fleischer"]
[member="Voph"]
[member="Vyra Silara"]
[member="Vyse Valorous"]
[member="Vytal Noctura"]
[member="Willow Fae"]

 

[Startorn]

Mission: A Royal Mess.

Gear: See bio.

Startorn walked up to the ruined palace that had been neglected since the government fell, he sighed debating how to proceed with his task, that task being finding the source of the rumors of a heir to the thrown.


To anyone watching they'd see a mandalorian in full battle armor standing there occasionally looking around, but what was really happening was Startorn was going over all the information that had been given to him on this subject, it seemed as if some old man had been rabbling in a bar after a few to many drinks, claiming he worked for the heir, so Startorn was in search of the bar that he was at, the information changes about the exact location but all of them were in the area of the palace so that's where Startorn started He also pondered what led up to this.


During the briefing of what was happening Startorn had volunteered to go and search for the heir because of his bounty Hunter background, the problem with this that he was not told was they don't have a face, so Startorn was looking for a mysterious heir with no knowledge of what they look like, this could take a bit, he was told that he would have some help soon so he was also waiting for that.


The other he'd taken the job was the matter of security, with the few anarchist people still around Startorn wanted to make sure that when they found the heir that he (or she) would be well protected and...well... actually have time to become ruler.

 

[Gerwald Lechner]

​

Location: Outside Capital - Refugee Camp
Wearing: Strike Armor
Tag: [member="Gianna Aegis"] | [member="Asaraa Vaashe"]

Eiattu 6 was free again. The work of the Confederate military and Knights Obsidian had made quick work of removing the Cabal, and the only question which remained was how best stabilize the government. There was also the matter of the Cabal remnant and their sympathizers which remained on the planet, and Gerwald was nowhere near either of those. The lupine had yet to be cleared medically for the more strenuous or dangerous missions, still unsure as to why. Perhaps it had something to do with the fact he disobeyed a direct order to not go looking for the man that killed his best friend, someone he had come to care for deeply and love. Gerwald was certain he was being tested, and yet he did not seem to care. There was nothing but duty left, at least that was what Gerwald wanted to convince himself of. The old wolf, the same fool, was buried deep behind the hurt and pain, the mask of duty, he wore. Gerwald just needed to find himself again, or an even better version of himself.

Gerwald needed someone or something to live for. The CIS alone would never be that thing, never be the one cause. Gerwald needed something more specific, something... personal.

Today, that was refugees, or protecting those seeing to the refugees. Gerwald found himself working close with a person he had aided on a couple of occasions before. The first time he had worked with [member="Gianna Aegis"], the red haired woman had served as bait to help a rag tag group uncover a kidnapping and trafficking ring, and the other, well it had taken them into Sith space. Gerwald did not wish to find himself in Sith space anytime soon. However, he was glad about his time with the fiery haired Jedi once more. She confused him. Everyone had an agenda, something they wanted of their own, and yet she seemed genuinely concerned for others. Her aura was pure, and those moments his mind brushed against her presence he knew one thing was certain. She was not [member="Naedira Darcrath"], nor was she [member="Srina Talon"]. The light which exuded from her made Gerwald feel comfortable, as though everything in the world would be right. He liked her and hated her for it, because how could any world be right where someone he loved could die such a brutal death.

There were others with the team, though Gerwald had not worked with them before. His job was to protect, but as his eyes fell on the plight of the refugees, he was suddenly reminded of seeing his sister [member="Alwine Lechner"] in the prison cell. Thoughts wrestled their way back to life on Stewjon. There were those who had and those who did not have, and suddenly Gerwald found something of his old self once more, compassion. His eyes settled on the tents and temporary structures the CIS had helped to erect. It would be some time before all those who had been displaced would be able to return to their homes, but for now their burdens could be lightened. Food and medical supplies would be distributed, and those in need of medical attention would also receive the care they needed. As the transport touched down just outside the camp, Gerwald turned his attention to the redhead.

"I suddenly feel selfish..."

Perhaps she would know what he meant by that, and maybe she did not. Gerwald had never talked to her about his loss, though he wore the pain of it for all to see. His loss seemed insignificant when he compared it to that of the loss represented by those in front of his eyes. Guilt. Gerwald knew that feeling intimately well. He lived with it, and suddenly felt the weight of it even more. How could he wallow in his own self pity when there were others who had it much worse, and suffered more loss, than he could ever imagine to know. Yes, Gerwald had lost and suffered, but he still had his livelihood. These did not. As his feet carried him down the ramp, Gerwald began to turn inward. He had some soul searching to do.

"We should check in with whoever is in charge, and then get everyone to work. The main staff tent should be just up ahead."

Gerwald pressed on. Perhaps this was the cause he needed today.

 

[Kaden Farr]

Location: Capitol City - Warehouse District
Wearing: xxx | Gear: xxx
Tag: [member="Daisy Americus"]

Another day, another mission. Kaden Farr was doing pretty well for himself when it came to the odd jobs with the CIS and collecting pay. Ever since he opted to work as a member of the Guild as opposed to being a subcontracted soldier of sorts, Kaden had more freedom and more time to spend with the one person who ever increasingly mattered in his life, [member="Daisy Americus"]. She also worked with the Guild, and only too well with Kaden. Their last mission together only proved how well they did work together, how they moved and flowed as though they were one person on the battlefield. It had not crossed Kaden's mind until later, but their force bond must have made that even more natural. It was a thing Kaden still did not understand fully, but he knew all he need to know about it. Kaden did not have to understand it. His mind was on other things, and had been even more so since their last mission.

It had been something Kaden should have done much sooner, but Mandalorian warrior had finally kissed the blonde. It had been a moment of passion, one which Kaden knew was influenced by yet another close call. He had seen many since returning to life, and this time having seen Daisy almost get squashed by a giant bug, Kaden knew not another moment could pass before the blonde Mandalorian knew what Kaden truly felt for her.

He had liked the kiss.

Today the mission objectives were clear, Kaden was still thinking about that last mission. He could not wait to jump to engage the enemy and fight alongside Daisy once more. The Crucible had left dissidents behind, and other sympathizers, which threatened to unsettle the progress which the CIS was trying to make on the planet. Yes, there were those working to find the heir to the throne, but another coup or rebellion could easily be started with just one spark. Kaden and Daisy were there to ensure that small spark would be fully extinguished. It was a simple order. No prisoners. The CIS did not deal with terrorists, and they would not house any among their prisons. There was one solution, end them.

The outskirts of the Capitol City seemed to be pretty quiet, but that did not mean they would be for long. Intelligence reports indicated a certain sector of the city to be a known hot bed for the remaining Cabal and their supporters. The warehouse district seemed to make sense to Kaden's perspective. All the buildings looked the same. They were easily defensible when they needed to be, and if they were supplied well, the terrorists could hold up for a long time. Yes, their position was ideal, if they were going against a typical opponent. Kaden and Daisy were anything but typical. They were Mandalorians, and both them had their moments with the force. If the Crucible were hiding out in the warehouse district, the pair would find them.

Kaden scanned the buildings for any sign of life as the dropship flew over the area. There was no sense walking the streets if they could avoid it. The element of surprise was something Kaden wanted to maintain if they could, and besides, sometimes there was nothing more fun than getting the drop on a group of malcontents who did not expect a fight. Catching the enemy off guard always allowed for some fun improvisation that was not available otherwise. Kaden smiled under his helmet at the thought just as his HUD picked up on heat signatures.

<<< There cyar'ika, third building from the left, two rows back. You picking up the same signatures? >>>

If the intelligence was good the signatures were Cabal. It at least warranted a flyover, or a closer more in person look. If Daisy agreed then a roof landing was in order. Kaden directed his next words to the pilot.

<<< Get us closer will ya, we need a better look. Don't give up our position. Keep it discrete. >>>

Because nothing said discrete like a CIS dropship carrying a couple of Mandalorian guns for hire.

 

[Tess Valnora]

Location: Capitol City - Grand Market​

Weapons: Oathkeeper (B2) | SPG-12 | Phrik Knife | Shotosaber | SMG​

Gear: Shadow's Sting | Norris Trench Coat | PD-00 | Utility Belt​

(UB Contents: SOAR | Suppressor | Extra mags (5) | Smoke Grenades (2) | Medi-kit)​

Tag: Open​

The Ministry had sent her on another mission, that didn’t require heads to roll or bodies to disappear. Not yet at least, the notice had been simple and to the point: ‘Link up with any local agents, find the heir, reinstate the monarchy, don’t get caught.’ Simple enough right? Not when your informant turns out to be a Crucible double agent. The meeting had been a brief one, with blaster and slug fire. Only to end with the Crow being chased down a few alleys until she finally evaded the Crucible soldiers completely.

“Get slouched you good-for-nothing double agent!” she angrily breathed to herself when she knew she was safe from the soldiers, “If the Crucible knew about me, then they definitely know the CIS is here.” She went over her strategy trying to find where the weak point had been, but came up dry. She couldn’t find any reason as to why she had been ratted out other than the Crucible had an informant in the CIS or the Ministry. That mole would need to be found, but for now she had to find this ‘heir’ so the he or she or it could restore stability to the chaotic world. Pulling a comm-link off of her belt she switched it to one of the secure CIS channels, "All agents, caution advised, the walls have ears." she coded hoping the simple warning would reach anyone trying to stay out of a firefight with the Crucible.

Stowing her comm-link, Tess carefully stepped out of her hiding spot and looked up and down the alleyway, all clear. She pressed the mag release on her SMG and checked the bullet count, three left, “Time for a new mag.” She said as she stowed the almost empty mag in a pouch on her belt and grabbed a fresh one. She rammed the new mag home then holstered her weapon concealing it beneath her black trench coat. Tess looked down at her wear, maybe she should change it up at some point? She liked the black trousers, boots, and white shirt she usually wore on missions, the coat just added to her style. As she started down the alley aimed for the large citadel building she mused to herself, “Maybe next time I’ll wear red?”

 

[Jorah zos Darnus]

​

Eiattu.

One of many sleepy stops along the storied Ado Trade Spine, a minor economic footprint on the doorstep of the StarForge Nebula and its fabled shadowport amid the Induparan Crown Worlds. For an incestuous, buddy-karking cluster of worlds, there was a surprising amount of diversity floating around. The usual spacer crowd: Duros, Twi'leks, Shado-Fan, and Gran milling about in a human dominated society.

With such an eclectic mix, no one thought twice about a young Zabrak disembarking a public transport.

Officer Mieke Halon was one of Eiattu Security Force's finest. Heavy set build, just overweight enough to where it was noticeable as he sat at the immigration kiosk, a washed out caf stain on his shirt and a severe look upon his face as the man oversaw Aisle 7 of the cattle line that was customs processing.

Motioning the next in line to step forward, Officer Halon was presented with an identicard issued by the government of the planet Talay. Raising his eyes, he saw a red and black youth. His bald head was crowned with horns. "Occupation," the customs officer asked.

The red-skinned youth turned his arm so that the patch on his uniform sleeve could be better seen by the border guard. "I'm a cadet at the Talay Academy," the boy stated proudly.

Did they even have a sports team?

They needed a sports team. Mascot or something. Grav-ball maybe. The Talay... something. Hawk-Bats maybe.

Straightening back up, the Dathomiri clasped his hands behind his back as he rocked back on his heels. Adopting a juvenile, vulberable air, the tweenage youngling seemed apprehensive as he asked, "Is there a problem, sir?"

The back of Officer Halon's hand smacked down on top of the card-chip containing a slightly modified student data file on him. To start with, the boy had been born in Shaol'mara, but the identicard he'd presented gave his home of record as Talay City. Second of all, his name wasn't Fei Yolo. There really was a Fei Yolo, who really was a student at the Talay Academy, or had been until he'd graduated...

"Purpose of visit?" Halon barked, picking up the identicard emblazoned with the logo of the Confederacy of Independent Systems and holding it as though now in possession of some illegal contraband. Looking down at the boy from over the top of the chip, the man practically growled as he questioned the boy.

The Dathomirian's heels clicked together as he snapped to attention with military precision.

Well, ROTC precision anyway.

Junior ROTC.

"Sir, study abroad program, sir," the youth reported succinctly, holding his body rigid as he held his breath in wait for either the next question or permission to breathe.

Officer Halon gave a grunt. He seemed almost ready to admit the boy. Looking up, the officer said, "Well, we'll need an adult to claim responsibility for you while..."

"You mean Professor Knight?" the boy asked, interrupting the man before the child turned and hopping up in the air as he waved and beckoned over to an older man who'd been standing over in the line for Eiattu citizens. "Professor!"

As the distinguished looking gentleman proceeded toward the kiosk where the boy was detained, Officer Halon looked up to ask, "Is this young..." The man paused, halting his speech before he could say 'youngling'. Covering the slight instead by saying,"...young man with you, sir?"

"Academic exchange program with the Talay Academy, my good man," the professor remarked dryly.

"Well, you picked a feth of a time for it," Officer Halon barked, sliding the boy's false identicard through the card reader to legitimize the student visa. The modified chip slid across the desk top toward the Dathomiri a moment later. "Keep your head down kid."

He'd managed to smile and utter some vapid thanks, palming the identicard and making his way through the customs area of the star port. When the cadet and the professor had emerged from out of the bustling area, the youth turned his head up toward the gentleman. "It was very kind of you to ensure a young boy would make it through a crowded star port," the boy said, his words little more than a whisper, as a wave of one hand accompanied the statement.

"It was very kind of me to ensure a young boy..."

The man's recitation was stilted, almost mechanical. His eyes distant, as though in a daze.

A second wave. "You want to return to your family," the tweenage agent whispered.

"I want to return to my family."

"You will forget me," the boy said.

"I will forget..."

The man blinked, the statement halted as he seemed confused for a moment as to where he was. Or what he'd been doing. He'd been returning from a visit to Geonosis. Had he been daydreaming? "Did I forget something?" the man asked rhetorically.

Looking around the interior of the star port, the man finally shrugged before he started back for home.

On the other side of the starport, the Dathomiri youth was disembarking into the capital city. Reaching up, he casually removed the Talay Academy emblem from his sleeve.

He wasn't a student. He was a squire.

The Knights Obsidian had come to Eiattu 6.

Why? The answer to that question was in the eye of the beholder.

Depending on who you asked, Montblanc Jedediah Zeal was either a man of goddess or a terrorist. A leader of the Vianist faith, Shepherd Zeal - as he was known - had founded a church known as Via Libellus Sanguinis twenty years ago. Already an outspoken opponent to many governments and societal customs, Shepherd Zeal and his Vianist church were made prominent through the boycotting of fallen soldier funerals. Five years later, Zeal took credit for the religious conversion of Ken J'ong Fel - the former dictator of Bakura wanted for crimes against humanity by every respected galactic tribunal from the Core Worlds to the Outer Rim.

The first evangelical outreach of these people of the goddess would be to assassinate a prominent doctor and secular humanist in the capital city. The next was a mass shooting inside a university. Only a short time later, Libellus Sanguinis took credit for the bombings of the First Order embassy on Eiattu.

That was the start of where popular opinion about Shepherd Zeal and his Libellus Sanguinis cult sharply divided based on perception or point of view. Decried by the government of Eiattu as criminals, attacked by the media as terrorists, the cult of Via received some unexpected support for the segment of the populace that wanted to relive the days of the People's Liberation Battalion. That support only intensified when a drone strike on Libellus Sanguinis claimed the life of Ken J'ong Fel and the eye of Shepherd Zeal, instaneously propelling the former into martyrdom and the latter into celebrity status.

The government of Eiattu described it as counter-terrorism operations, but people surrounding the Vianist cult referred to it as something else. They called it the Crusade.

Via Libellus Sanguinus was a problem, one that the government of Eiattu had proven ineffective in dealing with.

The Confederacy did not tolerate fools. That Ken J'ong Fel had become a martyr was evidence of the Eiattu government's gross mishandling on the entire Vianist affair. After twenty years, they had failed to remove the one constant behind all of this: Montblanc Jedediah Zeal. The power and persuasion behind Libellus Sanguinus' cult of personality.

The official diplomatic talks between the Confederacy and the government of Eiattu made taking any direct action against the Libellus Sanguinus problematic. Eiattu was the sovereign territory of the Euatttuans, and not yet Confederate space. Nor had the Eiattu government asked for assistance.

So, this operation was completely off the books. And the Dathomirian was merely a tourist -- a student from the Talay Academy studying abroad.

His orders were clear: To find, and eliminate, Shepherd Zeal.

 

[Asaraa Vaashe]

​

Location: Refugee Camp
Wearing: This
Tagging: [member="Gerwald Lechner"] | [member="Gianna Aegis"]

Objective: Mantain Balance, Save lives

It was said in the middle of a disaster you could find the best and worst of people brought to the fore. Small acts of kindness suddenly had a much larger impact, by the same measure those small acts of cruelty carried ripples and repercussions far out of the remit they would normally possess. Two competing ripples in a pond, their echoes gliding out, dancing across the surface of the water bouncing back and forth into patterns that no-body could have predicted.

In a way, it was a good echo of the way she felt within herself, that last encounter with the Dark Sun had left the young Jedi feeling…drawn, raw. The barriers she’d built up in her mind had been shattered, no that was coming off lightly, he’d battered her mind, flensing her soul to pieces and in the wake, all those memories she’d repressed, the memories of her body have come seeping back, embedding themselves within her even as she healed.

As she breathed in she could feel the agony, the suffering around her, knew she could reach out through the force, pulling it in to strengthen herself. Yet, in the same breath, she could feel the hope, the genuine kindness too, knew that if she gave of herself, moved the force just so she could buoy it up, could spread that light.
That was the path of a Jedi, to aid the light right? Only…she couldn’t quite still that voice in the back of her mind saying he needed to be more, stronger, better. If she was going to protect these people from a menace like the Sith she needed more power…and it was right there for the taking. Perhaps that was why she’d been drawn here in the first place, a test. It was always a test.

Crystal blue eyes closed for a moment as Asaraa reached out through the force, not pushing nor pulling either way, not yet, just feeling the energy of the place. Just letting it flow through her. She could feel the grandmother gathering all the children she could around to tell them a story, to distract them from the pangs in their bellies, the parents putting on a brave face. She could feel the boy giving half a hard-won loaf to a stranger who looked down, the others circling planning to take the food away from both of them. Good and bad, a reflection of the galaxy focused down onto one small camp.

Blue eyes flicked open as the pink-haired Jedi breathed out, giving to the force. One more day to hold the darkness at bay, one more day of balance. It was another stone thrown into the pond, more ripples spreading, new patterns forming. The story took on a life of it’s own, children and parents forgetting their worries for a time. The vultures drifted off, bored or the better angels of their nature calling to them, it differed for each person. The Jedi could only encourage, call on positive emotion and hope that would be enough…if she had to take a direct hand, then she would have but this was better. Maybe, hopefully they’d learn the lesson would follow and change them.

A cough, a sigh as she straightened, that feeling of rawness in the force never really going away. Azure, now this, everytime she met the Dark Sun she felt stretched, both stronger and thinner at the same time and she still hadn’t caught up. Still hadn’t recovered by time waited for no-one. Hands slipped into her pockets as she half turned, eyeing the newest arrival as they descended from their shuttle. Light and Dark, the microcosm and balance all over again, it was like the force was determined to send her a message.

You could try in there, only….you wouldn’t find anyone. Everyone’s all spread out trying to deal with the latest fires so…it’s a nice empty tent right now. I’d move some of the kids in there honestly, but you know, sensitive information.”

 

[Vytal Noctura]

Location: Capital City - Grand Market
Appearance: Caramel Skin, Black Hair, Green Eyes
Tag: [member="Startorn"] | [member="Tess Valnora"]

Vytal Noctura had come to Eiattu Six, not as a Dathomiri or the Nightmother, but a well to-do Eiattu woman. The skulking sneaks of the Confederacy would no doubt lament a Witch "playing" at an undercover operative; she herself was not enjoying it overly much either. Disguised in this manner might imply shame of her true self when nothing was further from the truth. That said, there was rampant chaos and paranoia in the streets, which would hardly favor some bone-white woman with 'strange' tattoos. Even if they did not accost her, they'd be unlikely to speak freely of internal matters.

Fortunately, the Witches had means to change their appearance without relying on the Force and some mind trick. Not that such magic was without cost. A few vials of "medicine" would help maintain the cover. If this venture took overly long they would likely lose the opportunity for locating a long-lost heir rendering the entire exercise meaningless.

With a length of polished wood slipped up one sleeve of her long robe and cowl, Vytal hurried down the street. There were precious few of her kin -- those that dove into the spirit realm -- but enough that the Nightmother would see them. They could know of vital information concerning the whereabouts of the heir. Whether they would know of the appropriate rites to reinstate them was a matter to reckon with once restoring the monarchy was even an option.

A minute later she began to turn a corner onto a side street when the robed figure drew back sharply. Bright, green eyes spotted a small cluster of figures standing halfway down the street. Right around the place she had in mind. Not a good sight. Her eyes cast about the sparsely populated area -- where crowds were disinclined to gather en masse while a seemingly endless struggle for power played out throughout the city.

Only seconds passed before Vytal checked down the street as the sound of raised voices caught her ear. With a sharp intake of breath followed by a low hiss, the Dathomiri woman watched as the mystic she sought to visit was hauled out into the open. Such things happened often under the cover of darkness. Most. Especially when it involved 'average' people. Spiritualists were rarely seen as average and easily dismissed as criminal or responsible for the seemingly inexplicable -- matters that Pom had always decried. Social conditioning not quickly dispelled, unfortunately. Something the Mandragora would need to work on for all believers.

Confronting them now in such a public place, however, would do more harm than good. It was too early for their enemies to know the capabilities of those working to undermine them.

Vytal turned and moved back down the street until she found an alleyway that should take her near the backside of the building where the mystic had been staying. If she was lucky, some clue or information should be hidden away somewhere a common thug or soldier wouldn't find it. Even a great detective might have trouble if they didn't know what to look for. She had to find out if such was the case, at least. If this turned into a bust then perhaps one of the others... but there weren't many Vytal anticipated could be contacted in the Capital still. All she could do was try.. and trust in the spirits to guide her down the path to help restore this world's balance.

 

[Startorn]

Location: Grand market


Startorn finally spotted the bar that he was looking for, he walked in and went to the barista to ask about the old fool, but unfortunately according to the barista three men came in not to long ago and took him out back where a few blaster shots were heard, he went out back and saw sure enough the body of the old fool dumped behind a dumpster.


Frustrated he went out to the Grand market and was passing by a alley when someone was draged out of it, he looked back into the alley and saw a woman sneak into a house at the end, he walked over and entered to see the woman, [member="Vytal Noctura"] snooping around, there was something about her that seemed, familiar "who are you?" Startorn asked

Tags: [member="Tess Valnora"]

 

[Ciri Jade]

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Location: Capitol City - Cantina​

Appearance/ID: Khaylia Cors​

Tag: [member="Holt"]​

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[Flashback]​

During the Crucible's occupation.​

​

Infiltrating a planet run by the Crucible was no small feat, even for the Shadows of the Confederacy. Mysteries of the organization remained and Eiattu 6 was a prime location for a more internal investigation of their actions. Going as far as to join their ranks could be dangerous and the time needed would be longer than perhaps even they could expend. The eyes of the Ministry were needed in other places should their prowess be required for other things, after all. After her arrival on the world with a fellow member of the Ministry, she felt it better if they sought information in their own ways, keeping an encrypted channel for communication between them and meeting only when safe enough to do so. With the grip of the Crucible tightly around the populace's throat, caution was not only needed, but required.

All of the knowledge she acquired would not be sent through any channels of communication, instead it would be carefully kept in holorecordings stored within her Chronometer to be given to the Confederacy to further increase the amount of intelligence held about the Crucible. Though after the past revelations of traitors within the rank and file including the Ministry, the Raven would ensure that the details would only reach the eyes of specific Confederates. Granting this knowledge to the wrong one would only grant the Crucible an edge. This mistake could not be made.

. . . Present Day . . .​

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Taking a seat in the cantina, she had followed a lead regarding a sighting of possible Crucible Sympathizers who would frequent the locale. Though the bulk of the organization had fled the planet, the belief that they or their followers were all gone was not something she would believe. Members of the populace had chosen to support their cruel overlords and the chances of them turning their back on this choice was unlikely. Leaning back in her chair, eyeing the environment, a button was pressed on her commlink, activating the encrypted channel she had established with Holt prior to their infiltration. Her voice, hardly above a whisper.

<<If you're not busy, pop by the cantina. Heard some supporters like this place. Perhaps we can learn something from them. Follow the home. If not, well.. there is always option B.>>

 

[Jorah zos Darnus]

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The Eye of the Needle was a seamstress shop on the lowest east side of town.

Owned since 828 ABY by Carlita Letiz Suisse, the small store front boasted bolts of fabric, sewing machines, and supplies. None of which would appear to require the size of the boxes that were being unloaded from off a delivery sled and taken inside of the store. And the delivery men seemed a tad cautious for a pair of dudes unloading fabric. Case in point: the slight bulge of a pistol grip jutting out from underneath one guy's shirt.

He was packing a blaster in the waistband of his pants, at the small of his back.

At twenty credits a square meter, cloth hardly seemed so hot a commodity as to require armed guards. So now we arrive at the rest of the story...

The Letiz family claimed to descend from Harol Letiz, a Vainist priest and an activist during the so-called Troubles, when armed Vianist zealots claiming affiliation with Via Libellus Sanguinus had terrorized a public university on Eiattu. Unrelated to those events, Harol Letiz had been killed for leading a peaceful, non-violent protest during the Eiattu government's over-reactive posture that confused the violent and non-violent Vianist groups on the planet as being one in the same, rather than distinct groups with their own ideology and leaders. Letiz had a memorial over at the main square in the old Imperial capital that enshrined the memory of his teachings on non-violence. Tear-jerking stuff really. During one account of his ministry, he'd put himself between a slaver and a small slave child who was being whipped to death for stealing bread to eat. According to the folk lore, Harol Letiz had endured fifteen straight minutes of lashing, while praying with the small child he was protecting. And, when the slave driver had at last grown weary, the Vianist had forgiven him.

In contrast, his descendants were not nearly so evangelical.

Carlita's brother had been the Libellus Sanguinis assassin who had murdered the doctor and secular humanist outside of the hospital at Eiattu University Medical Center. She'd lost her husband in the drone strike that had killed Ken J'ong Fel and scarred Shepherd Zeal. Both of her sons had spent time in prison for 'terrorist activities' related to Libellus Sanguinis, and her daughter was on the government's Terror Watch List.

If Harol Letiz had a spirit, it was well and truly dead.

The connection to Libellus Sanguinis ran deep. It made the seamstress shop a simple choice for where to begin. The fact that armed men were unloaded unmarked goods into the back of the store was just bonus.

Coming down the street, the red-skinned Dathomirian had a tourist map unfolded in his arms. Shuffling the paper around, he seemed lost as he paused, glancing up from the map to peer at a street marker, and then back to his map.

An astromech bumped into the boy from behind, the tell-tale warbling chirp of a BB unit series making it clear that the dome-topped droid was unhappy that the young squire had chosen that spot in which to stop.

Turning his head down, the horned boy looked confused for a moment, then brightened as he said, "Hey there, buddy." Kneeling down, and holding the map out to the droid's optical sensor, the boy asked, "Maybe you can help me with directions? I'm lookin' for the Museum of Art History."

With the map propped up on his knee, it provided a cover under which the child's hand reached out to the compartment on the front of the spherical droid. At his touch, the panels slid away to reveal a Briletto police blaster and a silver cylinder.

Straightening up just a moment later, the boy folded the map away as he lamented, "My droidspeak is pretty rusty." Turning his head, the boy spied the open store front of the Eye of the Needle. Glancing back down at the droid, the tweenager just chimed, "Don't worry, I'll just ask over there."

And, with that, the young squire started across the street.

 

[Cameron Akaran]

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[member="Tess Valnora"] | [member="Vytal Noctura"] | [member="Startorn"]​

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"I won't allow The Crucible to turn my homeworld into their playground."

The blaster round that erupted from Cameron's pistol was loud and deafening. There were a number of people gathered in the main courtyard of the Royal Palace. Most were Government officials who helped see to the day to day of the planet's upkeep. Among them were a number of men and women clad in sky blue uniforms with golden stripes running along their trousers. These were the members of the Royal Guard, who were sworn to keep Eiattu's royal family safe from harm. These men were some of Cameron's closest friends, and even some of them were gazing at the man with disbelief. All eyes were upon the prodigal son now, with mixed expressions of confusion and awe. They have every right to be confused, after all Cameron had just shot one of the planet's most prominent Ministers.

"Y-your highness...." One of the Officials muttered, their eyes still on the body that laid before them. Cameron closed the distance between himself and the body, leaning down to search the man. "On my journey's I learned quite a few things. How to fly a starship, how to ride a bantha, I even learned how to properly fire a blaster." He said, tossing the blaster pistol on the ground beside him. "I also learned...." He muttered softly to himself.

The dead Minister's body began to shift and change under the pressure of Cameron's hands. It was slowly turning from the pale human's features to something more beastial. It had scaly green skin and large black lips. It's blue eyes turned a mucky shade of brown and it's hands grew a number of fingers as they fell limp against the ground. "How to spot a Changeling."

Cameron took a small transmitter from the dead Changeling before collecting his blaster and tucking it back into the holster on his waist. "This isn't Minister Varrus. He's an agent sent by The Crucible to infiltrate our government." Cameron stated calmly.

One of the members of the Guard spoke, still not quite understanding what was going on. "But....The Crucible should have been run off by The Confederacy."

"Not all of it. I think it's more safe to say that they wanted us to think they had been run off. That way they could plant their agents inside of our ranks...Maybe they were planning something more long-term? I can't be sure..."

"But....If The Crucible has taken up positions this deep in our government....I mean, how can we function? With the Royal Family...." The man trailed off, his eyes crossing over Cameron briefly before he silenced himself.

"With the royal family in hiding there is no one person who has the authority to take control of the government." Cameron completed the man's sentence before looking to the group gathered before him. "Then it's time we bring the royal family out of hiding."

One of the men turned their gaze to Cameron expectantly. "Highness....you can't mean..."

"Of course not." Cameron said, looking to the man with a dismissive gaze. "Throne doesn't suit me. Besides, I have no right to claim the Eiattu throne."

"But highness, as the Prince of Eiattu you must..."

"Eiattu doesn't need a prince. She needs a King." Cameron said, before pulling his blaster pistol from his waist and turning away from the courtyard. "And I'm going to find him."

 

[Djonas Vile]

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Location: Capital City


Djonas stood at the edge of a pier, watching out at the waters. Boats passed on by one by one, but none were the one he was awaiting. The sounds of birds calling could be heard in the distance and civilians behind Djonas were chatting it up. He just stood there, DjakPods secured in his ears, jamming out to the latest tracks he uploaded the night before. He was jamming a bit. The sun was somewhat beaming on his darkened skin. That in combination with the ocean winds was a soothing mix.

Then, a small motorboat came into view. It's hull was blue with a red stripe. The exact one he was waiting to see. There were 3 gentlemen on the boat. They pulled up to the pier, staring down Djonas behind their shades. "You the guy?" one asked aggresively.

"Yeah. Djonas Vile. You must be Dari. Nice boat." Djonas stepped down off the pier and onto the boat. "Let's get going then."

The boat then sped off at the pull of the throttle, headed off towards the west. To what end?

 

[Luca Donskoi]

Location: Capital City (On Approach)
Attire: Service Dress Uniform (X)
Equipment/Weapons: Asheran Armorweave | VT-Kinetic Impact Gel | KC-95 "Ace of Spades" Blaster Pistol | Lightsaber | Prosthetic Arm
With: [member="Faye Malvern"]
Tag(s): [member="Startorn"] | [member="Vytal Noctura"] | [member="Tess Valnora"] | [member="Cameron Akaran"]

Home is where the heart is. That’s what the saying was, right? If that was in fact the truth, Eiattu VI was far from what Alden would consider his home. However, certain elements of the past could not be undone, nor could they be buried and forgotten. For the High Marshal, Eiattu was just that. It was part of a past he’d been raised to acknowledge and accept, but hidden beneath a shroud of mystery, too. It had simply been too dangerous for certain truths of his past to come to light. Too dangerous for himself and for those he’d come to care about most. That being as it was, the galaxy was an ever changing waft of securities and insecurities. And with that, Eiattu had spiraled far away from its former glory.

Alden didn’t really hold any real memories of this world, and why should he? He’d not been to the planet since he was merely a child. At that time, life was simple. Even when the family picked up and left for the Core. Eiattu was all but foreign to him now. Its rolling hills and skyward mountains. It’s seas and cities that speckled themselves over the world’s very surface. Even so, there was something of a familiarity it held. Some kind of connection he couldn’t place a finger on, but still persisted to be present. And beyond that, there was a strange feeling in his gut. A foreboding, perhaps? Maybe a kind of comfort? Possible anxious excitement bubbling within just waiting to erupt? Whatever it was, it was cause enough for an unwelcoming expression to carve its way across his face.

He hadn’t known what to expect in coming here, but felt a welcoming comfort in Faye’s presence. A strength he that only she seemed to be able to pull out from within him. And considering she was the only soul alive he knew of that knew his true heritage, it truly brought comfort to him when she had freely offered to accompany him here. To a world they both suspected would have fallen far over the years. Whether by the heel of the First Order or the crushing palm of the Crucible, it had begun more or less a shallow expression of its former self. And even as the Confederacy flexed more and more aggressively against the treacherous arm of the Crucible, the destruction and distress it left in the wake of its presence was simply disheartening.

Eiattu’s landscape passed beneath the shuttle and the sites below as his gaze would fall upon them would bring truth and validity to his suspicions. However, there was still much good to behold here as well. The resilience of its people allowed the culture to soldier onward. Some semblance of order had seemingly been maintained.

He pulled his gaze from the viewport and toward the woman who accompanied him, [member="Faye Malvern"]. A small, unshapely frown turned somewhat upward in a forced manner. “It’s not exactly what I expected it might be,” he said, his hands moving to interlock with one another as his forearms rested upon his thighs. “But then again, I’m not so sure what I suspected I would find in coming here.” He paused for a brief moment before he would continue. “But even if this may no longer be my home, it is the home of my family. That’s important to me.”

At that moment, Alden felt himself overwhelmed by a feeling he couldn’t explain in any other way than instinct. It was as they were flying over the Royal Palace that it hit him. This feeling of . . . well he couldn’t explain it exactly, but deep inside he he knew. He just knew.

He scrambled quickly to his feet and rushed over to the main viewport in the cockpit of the ship, peering earnestly into open beyond. “Cam!” It was the only thing that left his lips as his eyes remained ever vigilant peering out that viewport.

Turning his head, the pilot looked to the High Marshal suspiciously. It wasn’t like Alden to act in this manner, usually presenting himself in a more stoic and steadfast light while on duty. So the rise in excitement caused somewhat of a start in the man who piloted the ship.

“Sir?” he questioned, unsure of what exactly had overcome the senior officer.

“Set the ship down, Lieutenant,” Alden ordered. “It’s time we set out into the city.”

He reached hand behind himself now, hoping it mind find Faye’s as the ship began its descent to the surface, intent on a pad just north of the Royal Palace itself.

 

[Kobi Fesser]

[SIZE=10pt]

[/SIZE]​

[SIZE=10pt]Location: [/SIZE][SIZE=10pt]Refugee Camp[/SIZE]​

[SIZE=10pt]Attire: [/SIZE][SIZE=10pt]Jedi Tunic (Tan/Off-White), Cloak (Green), Leatheris Bracers (Brown)[/SIZE]​

[SIZE=10pt]Equipment: [/SIZE][SIZE=10pt]Lightsaber[/SIZE][SIZE=10pt], Utility Belt (With Pouches)[/SIZE]​

[SIZE=10pt]With: [/SIZE][SIZE=10pt][member="Asaraa Vaashe"][/SIZE]​

[SIZE=10pt]Tag(s): [/SIZE][SIZE=10pt][member="Gerwald Lechner"], [member="Gianna Aegis"][/SIZE]​

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[SIZE=10pt]It had been some time since Kobi had been allowed to accompany his master on one of her missions and he was truly great for this opportunity when it presented itself. He just hoped that what he’d learned back at the temple would be enough for him to control his natural empathic abilities for a change. In the past, he’d been overcome often with the pains of those around him as their own emotions overcame his own, inevitably forcing him to shut down due to sensory overload. But now he was back in the field and back at his master’s side once more. It was a place he felt he belonged and truly sought to prove himself now. Because of the unfortunate circumstances before, he simply hadn’t had that opportunity. And well, this was going to be it![/SIZE]

[SIZE=10pt]His held was held high as he walked in [member="Asaraa Vaashe"]’s right flank. His hands rested along the simple belt that spanned his waist, thumbs hooked into the leatheris of its construction. The emerald orbs inset on his face scanned the area for a moment, but as he would come to a stop alongside his master, he would allow them to close. He opened himself to the Force in this moment and let its touch fill and embrace him. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=10pt]This was an area where the young padawan had a certain strength. A natural with the Force, Kobi had quickly found himself absorbing everything he could in its teachings. Yet, Asaraa had often desired the he focus on other areas too. Areas that were all too apparent that he had spent little to no time perfecting. Namely lightsaber combat as well as diplomacy. For him, the Force was so much more interesting, and with his natural affinity for it, what was there to really lose in capitalizing on his strength?[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10pt]“I’ll never understand what good people believe they get by doing others harm,” [/SIZE][SIZE=10pt]he said, opening his mind and soul to the Force more and more. His aura would brush against Asaraa’s and she would no doubt see that it was steadfast and confident. Not yet showing any signs which my forebode of an undesirable trip back down memory lane. [/SIZE][SIZE=10pt]“What’s the plan, Master Vaashe? Are we here to help these people alongside the Confederacy?” [/SIZE][SIZE=10pt]He finished and awaited the woman’s response. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=10pt]His eyes opened and his gaze turned and scanned the area around them. The camp had a sobering feel to it. Good and bad brought to light all in one fel notion. Amazing has tragedy could bring such good and bad out of people. Two conflicting thoughts of a very different nature sprung forth from the same root cause. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=10pt]But such was life, was it not? The Force had its own will, and it was a Jedi’s duty to fulfill it and maintain its balance. [/SIZE]

 

[Credius Nargath]

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Location: Capital City, business district​

Attire: Splendid as always​

Tag: Startorn | Vytal Noctura | Tess Valnora | [member="Cameron Akaran"] | [member="Alden Akaran"]​

Eiattu, it never really had been on Credius' radar when it came to actual business, nor when it came to his less savory past times. However, as time progressed and the powers that were turned out to be quickly driven off by the slightest inkling that the Confederation would be meddling in the once proud planet's affairs, the Viceroy of the Eriadu system couldn't exactly ignore all of this.

It was through some back channels that he managed to gain some information on the planet and its populace, how they were so deeply rooted in a monarchal system that without it they seemed to be lost, stumped and robbed of any tradition and culture, something an organization known as the Crucible apparently took notice of and quickly aimed to exploit. This very organization had already taken flight from the confines of the confederacy before it seemed, but now, on Eiattu, they had bolstered their numbers, their strength improved tenfold and their cruelty even far greater. Luckily for Credius, such things never impeded the flow of coin and credit and he deemed that the best way to find the rumored heir to the throne and get himself a good deal out of it all this way. It didn't always have to be guns and lightsabers blazing and lightning crackling about.

In a seperate, private VIP room within the confines of a respected establishment within the business district, the Viceroy sat down on a comfortable sofa, a glass of the finest liquor available on the planet set upon a low table in front of him as he was flanked by wealthy merchants, brokers even nobility, all talking, discussing things all the while he himself simply listened. Behind the viceroy, two armored men stood at the ready, calmly observing the room, while a golden orb floated nonchalantly in between them.

"Gentlemen, gentlemen, there is no need for such a fuss," Credius let out a calm sigh as he reached for the glass of liquor and gulped it down instantly, the alcohol percentage numbing his everlasting pain a bit. "All I asked was wether or not there could be the possibility that there is indeed an actual heir to the throne of Eiattu...I know you are affraid that this...Crucible organization might be keeping tabs upon you all, but I can assure you...as long as you are here with me, there is a guarantee that you are safe and sound."

With a wave of his hand, the floating orb started to buzz, a small hole opening within it's semi-liquid shell as a blue light scanned the entire room and everyone present except for Credius and the two guards. The orb buzzed a second time, the light from the opening turning yellow, than orange, than bloodred, as it slowly floated towards one of the merchants, who understandably seemed rather nervous in the orb's presence. "My apologies," A single nod of the head was enough of a sign for the two guards to pull out their VAARS rifles and instantly blast the nervous merchant through the chest a few times. "It seems I was wrong...NOW you have nothing to fear about anyone from the Crucible hearing what you have to say."

The guests looked at the bleeding corpse, completely in shock, before snapping back to attention when the viceroy clapped his hands. "Now...can I assume out of all that bickering back and forth that there might be some information on this...person's whereabouts?" With cold, silver eyes, Credius scanned his guests, until his gaze stopped at an old, almost ancient looking Eiattuan. "You seem shaken...distressed even, so I reckon you know what I seek and you wonder if you can tell me. Let me again affirm to you that I do not wish any ill will to the people nor the true rulers of Eiattu, as I myself come from a world steeped androoted in culture and nobility at its core. So...do come forth with what you know and help me clean up the mess you're precious homeworld is currently in."

"Refugee c-camp," The old man stuttered, trying to keep himself together under the pressure of the viceroy's cold gaze upon him. "I do n-not know where to find what you seek specifically, but ... there are w-whispers from the refugee camp."

Credius sighed, turned his head to one of the men whose profession was in fact trading in information. The man nodded calmly in response. "It might be possible, a lot of rumors come from there...it wouldn't be out of the question of former palace staff to be residing there too...so why not the heir themselves?"

"Very well," Turning to the two men behind him, the viceroy nodded and motioned one of them to lower themselves a bit. "Contact our men at the hangar, tell them to rendez vous at the Refugee camp, since we are but a small group, we'd get attention, but not that we'd be seen as a threat, you'd just be seen as what you are: my personal escort in matters of business."

 

[Vytal Noctura]

Location: Capital City - Grand Market
Appearance: Caramel Skin, Black Hair, Green Eyes
Proximity Tag: [member="Startorn"] | [member="Tess Valnora"]
Also Tag: [member="Cameron Akaran"] | [member="Alden Akaran"] | [member="Credius Nargath"]

Vytal turned, her fingers inside the sleeve of her robe ready to draw her weapon when a familiar frame filled the doorway. A Mandalorian... from Adron's celebration? Unlikely he would recognize her given she lacked both the palor and tattoos of that night of her normal self. She would be tempted to send him on his way, only she already expected he might resist if she were the one to suggest it.

"They've taken my mother." Her hand slowly fell from the sleeve. "You're... not with them, are you? Please, let me go."

Playing the helpless damsel was not her strong suit. At least not for anyone that could judge a person by their eyes alone. It had never been necessary to learn how to perform before others outside of being unreadable among politicians and adversaries.

Slowly the robed woman began to back up toward the stairs. "Let me go home."

 

[Startorn]

Mission: A Royal mess.

Gear: see bio

Tags: [member="Tess Valnora"] [member="Vytal Noctura"] [member="Cameron Akaran"] [member="Alden Akaran"] [member="Credius Nargath"]a

Though you couldn't see it do to the helmet he had a look of confusion, "let me get this straight, they took her from this building and as they took her away you snuck in, and you want to go home? But if this isn't your home then why was your mother here?" Startorn didn't really care about any answers to his questions, they'd probably be lies to anyway, but he wanted to show how dumb it all sounded, he quickly drew his pistol keeping it trained on her "who are?"

 

[Darth Assimilus]

Location: Aboard a ship...Somewhere.
Bounty Target: [member="Alden Akaran"]
Objective: Wolves and sheep. Let the Hunt begin.

The hum of the internal inter-workings of the Serpent was rather bothersome on the ears. Despite being accompanied by other more lively partners the ships whines and groans still trumped it all. The thing was old and yet still reliable to use. Age added beauty some could say and If that was true then Kezeroth was rather beautiful as well. If only this much was so. Large heavy thumps sounded down a hallway as his tall figure appeared. Holding out a data-pad he hummed to himself out loud, matching the ships cries with a deep growl like vibration.

Animalistic eyes peered through a T-shaped visor. Taking in various amounts of info regarding the number of other bounties aboard his ship. In for the long haul as he would say. Every now and then his head would turn briefly as if to check on a bounty. Did they move trapped in their Carbon freeze? No. Of course not. Their expressions spanned in a fixation of time that lasted longer than the mind knew. A duration he could end if he so wished and he did not wish it so. The faintest sound emitted across the ship. A chirp. Taking no time at all his lower half took the liberty to use long strides.

" Possible target match. Processing data." The computer said tonelessly before finishing with. " Match percentage... 75% for a Alden Akaran."

" Deploy probe droids and seeker droids. Scout out possible match and neighboring planet. Broadcast and link with merchant frequencies as well. I want more information." He commanded taking a seat in the pilots seat with a hunch. Armored fingers began to moved slowly coming more and more to life in their work.

" Scour. This is Kezeroth. How would you like to make a deal?" Kicking his feet up and placing both hands behind his head he chuckled to himself while sending a message across a private comm connected via his armor.

 

[Tess Valnora]

Location: Capitol City - Grand Market​

Weapons: Oathkeeper (B2) | SPG-12 | Phrik Knife | Shotosaber | SMG​

Gear: Shadow's Sting | Norris Trench Coat | PD-00 | Utility Belt​

(UB Contents: SOAR | Suppressor | Extra mags (5) | Smoke Grenades (2) | Medi-kit)​

Tag: [member="Startorn"] | [member="Vytal Noctura"] | Open​

She hadn’t been in the Grand Market long when a Mandalorian brushed past her, she almost grabbed his arm to make him apologize since he didn’t seem to notice her. But when she looked back toward him, he ducked into a building in the alleyway adjacent to the one she had just exited. Tess was about to let the issue go when she glimpsed a cloaked figure nearing the building the Mando had just entered. The man or woman kept their face concealed but the Crow could tell by their demeanor they had ill intent for the inhabitance of the house. Tess quickly made herself less visible to the alleyway but moved in on her target.

As she watched the figure drew a vibro-dagger from their cloak along with a thermal detonator as they neared the door, “A thermal this close to the market? Either you really want to kill him or you are quite stupid.” Tess found herself saying to the figure as she stepped into the open. The person stumbled for a second as they spun on their heels to face her, throwing their blade at the same moment. The throw was poorly aimed and Tess barely had to move out of the way to dodge, even being about five feet from the assailant.

“You’re quite stupid.” Tess confirmed as she rotated the cells on her right gauntlet charging it for a shock, all in the same movement she aimed and fired the grappling hook. Her target attempted to dodge the incoming line but his center mass didn’t move quick enough. The line struck and the electricity flowed, instantly neutralizing him. With a quick yank and press of the retraction switch the cable retracted back into her gauntlet and the man fell to the ground and lay motionless face down. She knew he wasn’t dead, merely stunned.

Tess cautiously approached the fallen man and rolled him over to search his pockets for answers. But she didn’t have to search him long when a necklace slid out from under his shirt with the emblem of the Crucible. “And with that, you have sealed your fate. But before you die, I want answers.” She sighed as she tied his hands with his own belt. The man continued to lay there unconscious, even with how roughly she bound his hands and removed his face covering.

She stood there waiting for him to come to consciousness, but after a couple minutes of him lying there she began to grow impatient and she drew out her own dagger, “Time to wake up.” She said as she thrust the dagger into the flesh of his left quadriceps.

“What were you doing, where are the remaining Crucible, and what happened to the heir?” She asked not expecting an answer as the man’s eyes napped open and he yelled in pain.

“Shhh... Just tell me what I want to know and I’ll let you go.” She was never the best at interrogation, death was her specialty. That was why she had joined the Ministry as a Crow, not a Raven. “I’m rather in a hurry so please just comply.” She said as she slowly drew the dagger out of his leg, which started another scream before she clamped her left hand over his mouth. “I said quiet.”