Private Chasing Shadows

[Jonyna Si]

TAG: Itzhal Volkihar

Iridonia had become a bit of a mess. As the Dawn of Hope still sat parked in orbit, the underworld of the capital city stirred to life. Many unsavory types wishing to either exploit the chaos, or some simply wishing to hide amongst the crowds.

Jonyna had tasked a small contignent of the Service Corp to monitor it. While Jonyna could put up with small gangs, she wouldn't have them interrupting the reconstruction efforts. Hunting down criminals was the SIA's job normally...

But Jonyna also couldn't help but poke her nose into it herself.

2 SIA agents flanked her as she prowled the rooftops. Cities were just concrete jungles, and Jonyna had a knack of navigating them in unconventional manners. Kidnappings. That was the story she was following. 3 kids, stolen from a refugee camp, in the light of day.

She wouldn't stand for it.

 

[Itzhal Volkihar]

From Itzhal's own perspective, it had been years since he last laid eyes on the rugged beauty of the Zabrak homeworld, Iridonia. The last visit felt like a distant memory as he walked through similar streets, coated with a new layer of dust and blaster scorches across the dirty panels of a lower level. Back then, the Republic held sway over the galaxy, its influence guiding the stars, a firm hand corrupted by the desires and wants of a rare few who stood above the rest. At that time, it had been reasonable to assume there was safety within its borders; far from the origin of an outlaw's crimes and the relentless hunters hated by most, his target had fled.

Yet, justice came to all in time. A thousand years did not change the inevitable.

Surrounded by pillars of steel and glass that upheld the upper levels of the capital, Itzhal prowled through the lower districts, shadowed by his fellow Mandalorians. Their cloaks, draped over arms and armour, shrouded their silhouettes as they advanced past twisting streets and deserted alleyways without pause, straight into the apartment block of an unexpecting Zabrak, who quickly found himself pinned to the side of a window-ledge overlooking a multi-storey drop, their errant knife swipe disarmed and sent skittering to the floor. His friends ran without even a second look.

In the reflection of Itzhal's visor, terrified green eyes searched for an escape and found nothing but unrelenting muscle that barely shifted as the Mandalorian pulled from his belt a flickering holo-comm emitter, revealing a Zabrak with a noticeable resemblance to the current man, "Where's your brother?"

Tag: Jonyna Si​

 

[Jonyna Si]

TAG: Itzhal Volkihar

Jonyna could feel the air, just about a mile ahead of her. It was a trick she used often, especially when hunting. The Force could be tricked, the ears could be deceived, and the eyes could be hidden from...

But you can't hide from the air.

Jonyan felt every corner, every movement of the crowd, every bit of machinery. To an untrained elementalist, it might be overwhelming, but Jonyna had trained herself to focus it. Learn how to pick and choose what she felt.

Mandalorians.

Were they behind this?

Jonyna pushed ahead of the SIA agents, onto the roof of the house, watching and listening as they entered, unbeknownst that they were being watched.

She didn't want to pick a fight. They could be Crusaders, or Jenn Kryze 's House. From this distance, she couldn't tell.

For now, she'd wait.

 

[Itzhal Volkihar]

"I-I-I don't know, please, you have to believe me!" the Zabrak punk screamed, panic etched across his pin-cushioned face. His limbs trembled with frantic energy, flailing in chaotic desperation as he fought to escape the unyielding grip that constricted tightly around his chest, each desperate movement a futile rebellion against his captor's ironclad hold. The sharp press of metal against his skin from their gauntlet left him shying away, even as he felt the ceramic and glass press against his back, a breath of cool air nipped at the back of his neck from an open window.

A piercing scream burst from his throat, sharp and desperate; it tore through the corridor and out into the night sky as another hand wrapped around his upper thigh and lifted him higher into the air. The wind pressed against him, a lover's caress, beckoning him closer to one final dance as he recklessly grasped for anything he could, his hands wrapped around the frame of a chestplate.

Green eyes stared up, "I know you're lying, Chre."

"I can't; I swear," Chre's gaze pulled sharply to the left, away from the glare of his terrified reflection. "Don't you know what they'll do to me?"

"Think about yourself first; you can either deal with the problem now or you won't be around to deal with the problem later. I ain't got much patience or time here," Itzhal's voice brooked no mercy as he tipped them over, the screams little more than a distraction as he felt the weight of his chest, the desperate grip that clasped to his armour. "They're stealing kids, boy. Do you really want to go down with them?"

"Okay, Okay. 184 Korrvain Strade, that's the place. I did a few deliveries, but nothing major. I swear. I didn't even step further than the reception; my brother's the one you..." He slammed to the ground a second later with a confused grunt, his body rolling across the floor with a clatter that carried on until he finally came to a stop. Right at the feet of another Mandalorian, their armour covered by the thick traveller's cloak they wore. It was the last thing they saw before a stun bolt hit them in the back of the neck.

"Address matches with what the others said," Itzhal acknowledged.

The other Mandalorians stood in tense silence as he drew near, their unspoken judgement heavy in the air, palpable yet held for the necessity of the mission. He paid little mind to the motionless form sprawled at his feet, discarded like a drained energy cell dropped in the heat of battle. There was no time for mistakes, no time for remorse.

Another of the Mandalorians, their lighter plates of durasteel armour identifying them as one of the Hastati, stepped forward with a datapad in hand. "We've got a site confirmed."

"Then we better keep moving," Itzhal declared, striding past them with purpose, his gaze fixed ahead as the door at the end of the corridor hissed open, out into the bustling streets of another city-level. The cacophony of honking taxis and chattering filled the air like a vibrant symphony of civilisation and errant violence, utterly unaware of the situation progressing at their feet. He slid into the passenger seat of a Taxi Service Droid, waiting till the others were in before he continued. "If they're smart, we're already on a deadline."

Tags: Jonyna Si​

 

[Jonyna Si]

TAG: Itzhal Volkihar

And now she had an address.

Before they could move, Jonyna was off. She whispered on the wind to the SIA agents, who followed suite. Like a plastic bag on the wind, she moved through the city. The jedi master had always been a master of her own body, free-running across the city on a mission. She needed to get there first, and find out what was going on.

She had confirmation now. Those were Jenn Kryze 's men. And while she didn't mind working with them, she hoped she could get a jump on the situation before they got there. Mostly to avoid a shootout. As much as she loved her fiance, she knew better than to risk mandalorians rushing into a still broken city with their guns raised.

Mandalorians projected that wish to engage in combat, but a jedi?

Jonyna might be able to talk her way out of this.

 

[Itzhal Volkihar]

Nestled within the aged, peeling yellow shell of an automated taxi, Itzhal sat in contemplative silence, the steady hum of the vehicle a soothing backdrop to his worried thoughts. Behind him, the unfamiliar presence of his Hastati escorts loomed with only the soft click of fingers running over a datapad to disrupt the quiet of their intense focus, awaiting the moment their journey came to an end. As Itzhal errantly gazed out the window, the troubled city of Malidris cascaded by, a blur of colours and shapes that danced with all the chaotic and disorderly beat of life itself—neon lights flickered in the twilight, intercepted with shattered windows and busy repair work, while the skylanes thrummed with the rhythmic pulse of countless vessels flowing onwards to their next destination.

With a tilt of his visor, he glanced back towards the droid pilot, a pillar of steel and cables wrapped around the space where a driver's seat would have sat if not for the way it spread out like a spider's web. A long strand of frayed cables, attached to the central pillar of the droid, stretched out across the dashboard in slithering lines that smothered a battered connection port to an aged monitor, which flickered through their route of the city displaying their destination in the distance and the rapid approach of the taxi as a credit counter to the side gradually rose higher and higher.

"Two minutes," Itzhal informed the others as he leaned back into the worn leather seats, the weight of his beskar shielding him from the cracks and grooves that had formed in time.

In the distance, the mundane facade of the smuggling ring gradually emerged through the spires and peaks of the city: the building that stood at 184 Korrvain Strade, Lower Sprawl, was a multi-storey monolith that towered over its surroundings. Situated on the fringe of an industrial sector, the building stood on the edge of a chaotic dumping ground where scrap metal and refuse lay strewn around in disarray, cordoned in only by massive metal barriers emblazoned with a sandy-coloured emblem of 'Duskwind Freight and Salvage'. His gaze picked out a handful of droids on the outskirts of the salvage yards while figures in security gear patrolled the main building, including what looked like a reception hall of some form, though he noticed few bothered with the rooftop, high as it was compared to the surrounding buildings, even the massive walls of the scrapyard.

As the Taxi Speeder descended towards the main streets, Itzhal pointed it towards one of the alleyways further out of sight rather than its intended destination of right outside the main gates. A few seconds later and with fewer credits to his name, the Mandalorian stepped outside with a flick of his thumb, deactivating the safeties on either pistol.

Tags: Jonyna Si​

 

[Jonyna Si]

TAG: Itzhal Volkihar

Jonyna had beaten them there. The massive industrial building was practically a playground for her, and she made an effort to try and use her abilities to sense where this guy was, and if he had any hostages.

This could get hairy very quickly if they did.

Her weapons were hidden within her coat, but she knew she would probably need them. If any of these kids got hurt, it would be on her. If any of them were mandos, she knew this could get bloody.

She didn't want that.

Climbing up the side of the structure, she sensed something through a window. They had guards...

Maybe she could deal with them quietly. Just a matter of asking how.

There was a thought.

Hey! Over here!

The sound of a little girl's voice rang from inside of the building. All she had to do was twist the wind to sound like a voice. It was a simple trick of the Force, using her mastery of the wind to mimic a sound.

Hopefully she could lead this guard out of there.