Junction Crisis on Kuat Part I - Sedition | NIO - Euceron GA - Myomar

[Rika Hiro]

Asa Yubari|Kuat|Fieldwork
COMPNOR
Tags:// Don Belkora Jordi Massad Kalie Alverez

"The asset is ready and active, and you'll see in time," Yubari remarked, stepping out from the side of the alley from where she'd been perched observing Belkoras communications to other operatives in the field. Ever the scruffy little man in a suit, Belkora looked the same as he did both in the field and out. You could dress a criminal in a rich man's clothes, but you could never take the criminal nature out of them.

"She broke quite easily under our watch, though she lasted longer than the others among them."

Broke in body, she became broken in mind too under the duress of the agencies torturers. Day in, day out, week after week, Miss Alverez held out against the scalpels, needles and beatings that she was subjected to. But like every being, she broke like the rest. Now simply just a husk in a Compnor blacksite, replaced by one of Yubari's own kind.

"But she serves a purpose for now, until otherwise not needed."​

 

[Iseri Tanaka]

"I can't let you pass. Please, turn around and leave. I'm going to call my master and report this, but you don't have to be arrested."

Iseri stifled the outburst of a laugh that fought to breach his lips. It was such an unexpected thing, why was he laughing? By all metrics and measures he’d failed. He’d been discovered by this Jedi from the moment they’d met. In the aftermath of that failure, another joined ranks with it as the certainty of another failure was finalized by her words. He’d failed to convince them, and their impasse was assured.

Perhaps it was the absurdity of the whole thing that conjured Iseri’s outburst. Had he truly thought the right words would have come to him that would sway a Jedi from their course? As if by some persuasive argument their moral compass could be altered. No, such a thing was ridiculous.

There was no anger brewing in the wake of this failure either. Not at himself, nor for his inevitable opponent. They stood their ground on something they considered right from their point of view. They couldn’t possibly know what he did, of what was coming. They were merely doing what they thought was right. Just as he did. They were more alike than different in that accord.

That sad smile from earlier reclaimed its lost territory now as Iseri made his way towards where the bag lay upon the floor. Defeat was forced through his body language, shoulders slumped, each movement labored. All in the effort to sell a resignation of his efforts and the heeding of Iris’s offer to make an honorable retreat. This was crucial for what he planned next. Iseri doubted his chances in a toe to toe fight with a Jedi. As such, he had no intentions to fight on an even keel at all. It was through cunning he would succeed, if at all.

“Do what you feel is best.” Iseri said, the handle of the bag retrieved and pulled upward and in the same motion turned as if he were indeed about to beat a hasty retreat down the hallway from which he came. Turned fully now, Iseri took a step as a hand dipped into the satchel, gripped what it was looking for, and he stopped once again.

“My apologies for this.” Iseri turned, blaster pistol in hand, and raised it towards Iris.

And just kept raising it. Higher and higher until the barrel was even with the humming fluorescent light fixture above. A squeeze of the trigger sent shards of glass exploding into the air, showering down in the air above the Jedi. It was in this chaos that the agent sought his opportunity. He charged, a full on sprint by the third step, heading straight forward. But not for Iris. No, he sought to seize that narrow gap between her and the wall, and make for the lifts at the end of the hall.

 

[Phaineve Halseigh]

[Kuat City.]
[Captain Phaineve Halseigh - War Hogs - Rebel Alliance]
[Mission: Protect Quintus Verone. Investigate Endangered Officials]
[Partner in Crime: Monos ]
[ Thane , 'Tis but a flesh wound.]

One final bzzt cut the life of the bedroom lights short, and the apartment was once again plunged in darkness. At that, her grip on the blaster only tightened, even further when she heard an object violently colliding with the floor. But before she could possibly hope to identify it- the world turned an awful white; a crash of noise, compressed into a single unbearable note, shot upward. Her ears then began to pound with the rapid beating of her heart. Phaineve could hardly restrain herself before a pained yelp exploded from her mouth. Her pistol clattered to the floor while she caught the wall; even amidst the ringing in her ears, she detected the sound of the weapon discharging in the confusion.

It likely didn't hit anything important. But that was the least of her concerns; while the initial effects of the flash grenade faded into an afterimage, she was hopelessly blind, and unarmed; her best efforts had been spent clinging to the wall before she could collapse to the ground. But the concrete slipped from her grasp. Despite her best, disrupted, efforts Phaineve hit the floor. And... stared...

When the first fraction of a legible image graced her eyes, she seemed to find... boots? Upon scanning her dramatically hazy vision upward, she seemed to catch a face or a helmet- maybe? Her lips curled into a grim frown, elbows simultaneously extending to clumsily prop herself against the wall.

"So... to whom do I owe the pleasure?" Phaineve now formed a sarcastic grin. And, despite the lingering disruption of her sense of balance, she remained remarkably still. No move was made to retrieve her weapon; it would have been a fruitless attempt anyway.

Come on, Mox. You've gotta have some other trick up your sleeve... But until then, she'd have to stall for time. "You've gotta have a name, eh-?"

- Ooof! -

Her vision had begun to clear up some more, and her ears caught a loud clatter as a tiny, alien silhouette dove clumsily from a ventilation shaft. The sarcastic confidence drained from Phaineve's face as she began to piece together what had just happened, leaving nothing but dread and horror. She released a single, terrified utterance,

"Oh. Kark.."

 

[Caarlyle Rausgeber]

THE NARCISSIST
New Imperial Order
Admiral Regent
The Imperial Navy | Prefsbelt Command
Julius Loghain | Gat Tambor | Hal Vaiken
Kalie Alverez

Carlyle began to drum his fingers against the conference table as Gat Tambor almost entirely undermined Rausgeber’s case. He would wince a little as the Skakoan modified the input on his chest, whirring and wheezing. It was off putting, and his brow furrowed was he never it happened. Despite this, Carlyle was the perfect picture of temperate impertinence. Tambor was undermining his own war gamed scenario in favour of his own. Idiot. The Alliance would never allow for such an open campaign. Even the supposed democracy would use some veto power, maybe even write one into its constitution to be able to do so. Just to spite the wayward Kuati regent.

But he would not let that get in the way of him. Not that he would interject. Rausgeber’s proposal, at least in his own mind would be far superior to that of Tambor. And as the Lord Regebt began to speak, Carlyle attentively sat up. Taking a sip from his glass before the clicking of heels behind him took his attentions. Major Luitpold Harkov, member of the 1st Stossjäger Brigade “Rausgebers Fury”, was flanking him. Harkov was attired not in plastoid, but rather dress uniform. Rank plaque. Black tunic. Jodhpurs and a concealed firearm. “Milord,” he leaned into the crook of Rausgbers neck, and culled his hand to his ear, “Sir SCAR squadron,” one of the non-Prefsbelt close protective bodyguard units attached to members of state and other official delegations, “Has found an intruder. They believe has been listening in on these proceedings.” Rausgeber quirked a brow, “They have apprehended her, and seek further instruction as to how to proceed.”

Carlyles attention and gaze settled on Loghain as he prattled on about profit, and Kuats own economic under the Galactic Alliance. Not exactly Carlyles cup of tea, but it effectively reiterated his own thoughts, and there was agreement. Economic union was a necessity. Still, this was a good moment to perhaps curry favour, and establish his own belief, that Kuats secession timeline be brought forward with some immediacy. He turned to Harkov, “Inform SCAR squadron to present the prisoner to me. Immediately.” He whispered, before tuning himself back into the speech. Loghain was himself straddling the line, trying to find a common ground between both the broader Imperial Military’s approach, and the one of IBED.

It was however good to hear that Loghain had begun to tacitly arm planetary defences. Hopefully fortifications and hard points which could easily be seized in the case of urgent military coups. And that of course he had been arming and funding a patriotic front, who even had their own militaristic name for an operation to seize the system. “I’m glad to hear, that should Kuat secede, we are not starting the arming and training of patriotic Kuati's from the ground up.” Rausgeber pontificated with a smile, before pausing. “Unfortunately, and I do apologise if it did seem I was indisposed, but we appear to have a leak.” Carlyle let that settle amongst the assembled parties, “I have just been informed the security detail I have attached to myself and the Director-General has apprehended a possible enemy agent. Listening in on our conference.” Carlyle looked at Loghain, “Rather than have them eavesdrop outside the door, I have opted to invite them in.”

Harkov opened the door to the chamber, and in marched SCAR, hauling the ragged looking individual. She was limp. Unconscious. Carlyle rose from his seat and assessed her. “Thank you sergeant.” He coolly greeted SCAR squadron. “I do hope,” he approached the woman, and eyed her, before raising his gaze to meet Vaiken’s behind the helm, “That you’ve seized any equipment she was with her. If you will, i'd like it taken to the shuttle, under lock and key. Unless Lord Regent, you would prefer the first glance?” He then looked to Harkov, “Major, a seat for our lovely guest.” Harkov immediately sprung to action, as did the two SCAR soldiers, propping Kalie up on a seat.

“Thank you.” Carlyle reiterated, before eyeing her. He moved, leaning over the SIA agent, and cupping her chin in his palm, before his other hand opened her eyelids. “Do we have a name for her?” He inquired to the SCAR troopers, before turning Kalie’s unconscious head to Loghain, “Do you recognise her, Lord Regent?” He quirked a brow, before then, with some firmness slapping her cheek. “She won’t be much conversation for now. Stunning someone, which isn’t to of course disparage your work here today gentlemen,” he added, giving a smirk and a nod to the SCAR squad, “Tends to muddle the mind.”

“I dare say, we should have a quick break while we’re here.” Rausgeber added, “Major, could you get the cigars?” He commanded, still cupping Kalie’s head in his hand, and looking down at her. Major Harkov darted from the room, and returned with a briefcase. Putting it then on the table, and popping the locks. “I was saving these as a present, for you Lord Regent. Although, I must confess,” he offered with a wry smile, “Wasn’t sure if you smoked. But these,” he reached and plied a case from the briefcase, “These are Calrissian brand recipe, but with my own twist. It’s an Old Cloud City blend."

Harkov circled the table, providing boxes of cigars to each of the assembled members of the table. Including Tambor. “Do feel free to sample. Perhaps I can send another box to another worthy connoisseur.” With his free hand he took a cigar and popped it in his mouth, before then reaching into his tunic and dispatching a silver lighter. Emblazoned with the old First Imperial cog. He lit the cigar and took a deep puff of it, eyes fluttering as he enjoyed the deep smell before taking the cigar and blowing out smoke into Kalie’s face.

“But now to you, whom I won’t extend the pleasure to you madam,” he scowled, before looking at her stomach. “It’s unfortunate really, how a stun shot from your average blaster often inhibits interrogation.” Rausgeber mused, taking a long drag, and then feeling the impact marks, “Blasts like this, at presumed close range can often times incapacitate for hours.” The Admiral Regent informed the group, “It was such a problem, that I remember the Academy, back on Dosuun when were little more than a glorified customs force, that we typically to avoid stun blasts.” His cold blue eyes traced themselves around her features, “But whenever we did, we were informed trauma, typically blunt force did the work. You know, bludgeoning to the back of the head with a rifle butt.” He chortled, “But I never I never liked that. Far too uncivilised. And dangerous, potentially concussing someone like that when you’re trying to gather intelligence.” Rausgeber chuckled to the group; “It defeats the purpose, does it not?"

“Major,” Rausgeber let go of Kalie’s face, and clicked his finger, “Here.” Harkov immediately marched round the table and stood to attention, “Behind her please.” He then leaned, and took the Majors arm around the wrist, and put it over her face, before then prying the mans gloves digits over her left eye, “Open it there.” Rausgeber commanded, to which Harkov responded with instantaneous obedience, prying open the sleeping woman’s eye. Rausgeber dropped the cigar to the ground, and snuffed it out. “But I always more fond personally of alternate forms of information gathering.” He reached for another cigar, and lit it. However instead of putting it in his mouth, he let it smolder, keeping the flame alive, and coaxing it. “We used to call this routine, ‘The Avalonian Eye Exam’.”

“Now my dear,” Carlyle soothed, putting a hand clenched tightly on Kalie’s throat. Constricting her breathing beneath a vice-like grip. “Tell us who you are. And what you are doing here.” He then plunged the cigar, right into her eye. Rubbing the burning, scented cigarra into her socket as if it were an ashtray.

 

[Iris Arani]

“Do what you feel is best.”

At least he understood. She gave a small, appreciative smile as she lifted her hand to send out a call towards Valery Noble . Though, the call never fully went through.

“My apologies for this.”

She blinked. The com had just clicked on as she saw it. A blaster. Panic filled her heart. The Force hadn't darkened like Iseri Tanaka was planning to shoot her. Without that warning, she was woefully unprepared to evade. Thankfully, the Force hadn't been wrong. The agent had no intention of killing. Glass rained down above the Padawan as she lifted her hands. An invisible barrier kept her from being cut up, when it formed.

Fresh cuts through her robe, small beads of blood from stinging but certainly nonlethal wounds. Iris gritted her teeth, turning just as Iseri barreled past her. She moved the glass away before letting it fall, but seconds were everything here. So she turned, chasing after him.

"Stop!"

 

[Iseri Tanaka]

Kuatian Global Communications Uplink, Kuat City
With Iris Arani ​

"Stop!"

The downpour of glass was Iseri’s distraction, and it worked. In another stroke of happy news it appeared that the shower of fragments failed to seriously maim or injure Iris. It all went according to plan. His mission was well on it’s way once again, and nobody had gotten murdered along the way. His way was once more unimpeded.

But for how long? The crunching of glass behind him, paired with the echo of Iris’s words behind him told all that was needed to be known. She wasn’t about to simply let him race off to the lifts. It would have been admirable if it wasn’t so equally frustrating.

The gap between where they had conversed and the turbolifts at the end of the hall hadn’t been terribly far, yet far enough for when Iseri finally reached the control panel that flanked the lifts he was winded. The only trouble was there was no time to catch breath, even after a fist slammed into the call button. For his pursuer couldn’t have been far behind.

What a fresh horror it was that those turbolift doors failed to open at his immediate insistence. A glance up to the glass readout alongside the panel beheld a horror that struck him to the core. It read ‘30’. ‘29’. ‘28’. Descending at a pace that ought to have been measured on the geologic scale.

Time. It needed to be bought. The currency for it was still snug in hand, yet carried inherent risk. His first shot into the light fixture earlier had been more luck than skill with how close it had been. Hitting another, especially as a moving target ran beneath them, was out of the question. That left one strategy remaining.

Suppressive fire. It was a simple enough concept. Especially in an advantageous setting as a corridor. Hitting them was almost a certainty for even an adept marksman. But intentionally not hitting them, while trying to make it seem as you were? Now that complicated things.

Shots were fired, just to the left, then the right, overhead and short so they kicked up sparks and scarred the tile of the floor with a screech. With back pressed against the durasteel of the turbolift doors, Iseri could only hope they opened in time. Otherwise the jig was up.

“You stop! I must do this!”

Amidst it all a fresh worry struck the agent. Something only now that was realized. If the lift arrived in time, if he made it up there without interference, if his mission was accomplished, then what? There was only one way in and out of this facility. It was this very elevator. Even if the Jedi’s call hadn’t been completed, something that Iseri was in doubt of, there was one cold hard fact staring him in the face as surely as his pursuer soon would be. He would be trapped.

 

[Djorn Bline]

V E N O M _ S N A K E
NEW IMPERIAL ORDER
KUAT
BODYGLOVE | VIBROKNIFE | BLASTER | PISTOL
SQUAD| Izoshi
OPPS | Keiran Varn | Zav Traros

REBELLION
​

Thick canopies and vines, a nuisance to bear had he not have a vibroblade to cut through like it was butter. An air strike with napalm to burn the shrubbery would’ve been ideal to clear the path had this was not a delicate operation. Nearing the coordinates of the dissident base. Only him and a small squad of Vipers from the main company would entertain their host, hoping the element of surprise would ensure desolate the enemy.

<“There.”>

A pair of electrobinoculars were raised to his eye to get a closer look at the campgrounds. The first thing that caught his eye were the two wooden lookout towers, recently built by how fresh the wood was. A few small improv houses here and there. Probably one of those small bases used as an outpost and train any recruits. It was a branch from the tree, hopefully this ambush would help him find the main root and poison it to rot.

Naturally there were some soldiers securing the perimeter or lodging about the campgrounds. Perhaps he could take some time to create an efficient plan, but Djorn knew they couldn’t stay here this long when he and his squad where this close to proximity of the base. Only reason they weren’t discovered was thanks to the canopy that veiled them and the technology hiding them from sensors.

<“Alright…looks like we’re gonna have to make some noise. Six of us will have to bite the bullet, the other four will stay back and provide support. Let’s try not to make this sloppy.”>

Detailed orders were given to each and every Viper. The squad was a ten man unit against a platoon or so of Alliance sympathizers. Hopefully they were sloppy with tactics and firing a blaster. Everyone was in positions with smoke grenades ready to be thrown.

<“On my mark…one, two, ‘n three!”>

Smoke grenades lobbed as far as they could, thick smoke escaping from their canisters to mask the direction where they were attacking from. Grenade launchers fired explosive rounds to damage infrastructure and harm any hostiles. Hopefully their attack would cause disorder among their ranks, apt for Djorn and his chosen Vipers to close in on the base; plenty of meters to cover before breaching the perimeter.

<“They’re just pissing themselves, troops. Keep up the pressure!”>

Outnumbered and outgunned, but not outmatched. Surely, the boldness of this attack would reward them.

After all, he who dares win.

 

[Rexus Wenck]

THE BRUTE
New Imperial Order
'Romulus'
Prefsbelt Command: Special Warfare Division
Maijan Paisea

​

"Rex-I-I mean Rom! Romulus!" A voice called behind Wenck, it was unmistakeable. Dergan Twigg. AKA Remus. AKA, the dumbest sack of chit Rexus had the esteemed pleasure of knowing, "Rom!" The transition from Rexus to Romulus, was one Twigg had struggled with. With an IQ south of about 80, the gregarious, gargantuan Death Trooper towered over everyone. Despite his otherwise gentle nature, the giant revelled in the random acts of violence he could afflict on others. Including the poor bastard, dead, who had had his head squashed beneath the almost two tonne Death Trooper. "The uh, the guy, he's got a beeper. And it's buzzing." Twigg dangled the comms device between his two, thick fingers, and Rexus groaned. This was exactly what he had wanted to avoid. "What do we do?"

"Remus, you fat sack of fucking moron!" Rexus grunted, snatching the communications device from his erstwhile associate. He looked to the messenger. Some wanker called Orron. Not that it was Twigg's fault the dead man got a call. He hung up, almost shattering the screen with the force of which he executed the manouvere. The immediate danger was over, vut still. Rexus rolled his eyes, and glared to the Stossjaegers, "Take point. I'll fix this." The Stossjaegers filed past, weapons in hand, and aimed at about shoulder level. Ready to body another few bodies should their objective call for it. "Twigg, you idiot." He groaned, "We could have played this off, that the guy fell asleep. Or was gassed, or had an accident, something! And you decide to do this!" Rexus exclaimed, gestruing to the puddle of brain, marrow and crushed bone beneath Twigg. He groaned once more and examined the piece of tech while Twigg whimpered. Almost like a sickened dog. Rexus sighed, "You let this chit take control, and then you act like a pillock," His gaze was caught upon the data chip, which Rexus, with some lack of grace cleaved from the device. "Look, just keep on point. And you can let loose when the time comes to it." Rexus reassured Twigg.

There was no use behooving the man to act better. He'd known his associate out of uniform as a dedicated gangbanger. Then fellow stormtrooper conscript. And then as friend. And while Twigg may have been nearly naively dumb. Almost too dumb to raise a rifle. His wanton love of descrating corpses and beating prisoners would never leave him. Rexus fitted the chip to the data slot on his powered armour, and let his suit analyse it. The DARKSABRE armour decrypted it instantly. And almost immediately Rexus' hud, due to the DARKSABRE's lack of real onboard AI was flooded with the images collected by the late Owet. Most of which were images taken of his own genitals. "Gah!" Rexus sifted through them until he found the source.

Signal telemetry. With some key strokes, he managed to reconfigure the called ID's of Owet's communicator to the DARKSABRE. Now he had an idea of how far away they were. Where they would be coming from. "Right. Follow me." Rexus moved out of the maintenance bay, and entered the hallway, the Stossjaeger, as their name lived up to, were standing guard, crouched around corners, glaring at any angle the enemy could approach. "Right, lets move."

"Sir," The chief Stossjaeger barked, "We discovered something, Number 6," He gestured to a Stossjaeger opposite, "Has established the location of a security office up ahead. I suggest we head there." Rexus looked to Twigg, and then back at the sergeant.

"Right. Lead the way."

 

[Iris Arani]

Just as she was about to round the corner, a shot went off. Iris hissed in surprise, hiding with the corner. Still no lethal intent was being felt from Iseri Tanaka . Was he really doing all this but didn't want to kill? It just made her feel more conflicted on even stopping him in the first place. Yet, at the same time, she'd been trusted to do just that. The Padawan frowned, her hand shifting to grip the hilt of her lightsaber.

“You stop! I must do this!”

Two people doing what they must, but only one could succeed. The turmoil in her heart calmed as Domxite reached out, the gem within her blade reminding her just what their duty was here. She was a Jedi, and together they would stop him. Help him before he did something he couldn't come back from. Pink erupted from the hilt as she rounded the corner, rushing forward with her saber in both hands.

'12.' '11.' '10.'

Iris rushed through the shots. It was far easier to evade through them when they weren't being shot to kill. Her blade flashed through the air, blocking any bolt that might get too close. Harmlessly deflecting them into the floor, nearby wall, ceiling. It didn't matter where, so long as neither of them got hurt.

'6.' '5.' '4.'

She leapt the last part of the distance once she finally crossed the threshold where she could. The Padawan moved almost like a blur through the air, her blade lifted. Ready to strike. Her target was only the blaster in his hand, aiming to disarm. To stop them from having to fight any further. To stop the thread of death.

'2.' '1.'

 

[Jordi Massad]

3rd post
SCIMITAR
Objective 2: JOIN OR DIE
COMPNOR

Tags: Kolson Vrask Don Belkora Rika Hiro Kazimir Tragovic Djorn Bline
Thane Nuruodo'kal'brast Rexus Wenck Atticus Draco Iseri Tanaka Hal Vaiken

Opposition: Traden Avarice Keiran Varn Iris Arani Monos
Zav Traros Phaineve Halseigh Maijan Paisea Kalie Alverez

Jordi's Loadout
Rucksack
Disruptor Pistol
Kandaran-Durasteel Switchblade
Garotte Wire
Camcorder
Wall-Piercing Vocoder
Burner Datapad
Surveillance-Camera Jammer
Cigarettes
X3 Bacta-Patches

Briefcase
High-Powered Slug Sniper-Rifle
Adjustable Bipod
X2 Ammunition Clips
Long-Distance Binoculars
Night-vision/Thermal Goggles
X8 Sticky-Charges
X8 Detonators

The bouncer was as indifferent to the gunshots as he was before the slaying took place, reading the headlines on his datapad as he waved Jordi in, opening the door for the Kandaran without even glancing up as the COMPNOR agent paced down the rusting metal staircase. An indicator that Massad may have been followed into one of the rougher parts of the city, but it seemed that in moments like this that this was the sort of indicator he could and would need to rely on going forward, especially if he wished to make it quietly back to the vehicle he'd driven to the bathhouse. 'Safe here, friend.', the bouncer muttered under his breath, pausing to hold out a cautionary arm to bar his way and stare into the eyes of the Imperial. Looking for signs or behaviours that might make it easier for the patrons inside to distrust and single Jordi out, it took a few moments of looking at the eyes, eyelids, nose, teeth and general hygiene of the killer he was talking to, almost whispering,'They're not stupid in there. Be friendly, be quiet.', as his arm finally dropped to let the Kandaran inside.

Silent, but for some murmurs between old-heads in a few of the quieter corners of the dive-bar he'd just walked into, but the music was certainly not so intimidating, not in comparison to the stares, the silence and the fact everyone had heard what had happened outside. Jordi would need to be very careful here.

Just hasn't been a good day at all.... Wouldn't mind that empty apartment now, that's for sure.​

'Welcome to,"The Muntar", sir. What are ya havin'?'

I'm not a drinker, Belkora usually orders for us.​

As he started walking towards the stools at the front of the bar-counter, the Kandaran answered,'Anything decent, I'm only staying for one.', before stopping at the center of the bar and pulling out a waist-high stool to slouch into the background and look like he belonged there. Looking up to the barkeep, Jordi would see the sunken eyes of an old man who'd seen more than his fair share of blood, pain and death in his time; though fortunately for the Imperial, the old barkeep would relent to pour Massad a whiskey, something strong enough to keep him there whilst the lion's share of the closest authorities passed the establishment by. This clearly wasn't the old Half-Atrisian's rodeo, smirking with a knowing blink of the eyes that also hinted at a change in attitude, subtle though it was for men of the barkeep's ilk - subtle though it was for anyone within the basement walls of the Muntar.

'My advice? You're stayin' for three of those, then calling a taxi, ordering another drink and then you'll be safe enough to leave.'

'Appreciated, though please bring me some snacks if you can.', Jordi responded in a kindly appeal of sorts, receiving a confirmatory nod from the barkeep that further put his worries to rest in the process. Continuing on quietly, Massad explained,'Heavier stuff likes to cloud the judgement of those with empty stomachs - though this I'm sure you'll already know.', as he reached into the back pocket of his jeans for his wallet. A simple solution had arisen, and in a time when it seemed that only certain complicated means of evasion were viable to aid his means of escape, and had oddly come in the form of an old civilian's long-lived savviness, the Kandaran could never have expected such a lifeline to occur - at least not until it started serving him drinks. However, the old barkeep's act of turning to speak to the silent drinkers momentarily worried Jordi, but in the following moments he would quickly learn how silly such thoughts were and would be if verbalised.

'He's alright, fellas.... We got ourselves one of those,"Amiable", sorts this time.'

2 Hours later....​

The escape was a success, without a single noted authority even so much as looking his way when Massad made his way to the taxi that would take him back to the bathhouse, a blessing that the Kandaran wouldn't take for granted; waiting for his door to be closed first before giving the desired location, Jordi would lean forward and mutter where he needed to go, all just to be sure that no prying ears could eavesdrop surreptitiously. The driver was also quite understanding, sticking to the trend of the old barkeep in his seeming disdain towards any of the planet's policing elements, leading Jordi to believe that this planet's public opinion swayed farther in favour of it's career-criminals with every passing day. Though this may not have been relevant to the path he was walking, the Kandaran knew for a fact that his endeavours would earn COMPNOR more than their fair share of potential underworld contacts in the months after he left the planet's surface.

Whatever is going on, someone from among the planet's cartels is looking out for me.​

By the time he was dropped off, Jordi had been kind to his driver and given him a very generous tip of over 800 local credits and nearly 90 AV-Coin, along with a card with his burner's contact-code on it, smartly deciding to hold onto that datapad soon after - and for the sake of opening the most lucrative doors for COMPNOR on Kuat and (potentially) other neighbouring planets as a result. After this, Jordi quickly made a beeline for his own transport speeder, letting the rain droplets fall on his head, shoulder and clothes as he closed the distance to his parking spot at ground-level, hoping that he could at least do that without being clocked onto by other tailing SIA-elements this time. If benevolence to handpicked cartels could provide helpful insight to the organisation's future efforts, then Massad could be sure that one of those cartels would end up being the very gang that had a mind to protect him from the moment he behaved kindly to the Muntar's barkeep, such acts he wouldn't forget any time soon, though the Kandaran's hidden friends weren't quite done with him yet.

Jordi had quickly realised, after opening the door and stepping in to sit in the driver-seat, that he wasn't alone.

'It would seem I'm stepping on a lot of angry toes today.... Who have I pissed off this time?'

'You're safe, man. The Imperium's apparently working against our rivals so settle down.... Nice work in the locker-room though.', a voice with a shadow-obscured face in the back seats spoke, flanked by heavies with faces obscured by the same shadowy darkness of Massad's isolated corner parking-spot. Leaning forward so his visage could be seen more clearly to one who was still slightly on edge, the gangster would reveal the scarred face of an old Zabrak, somehow still appearing open and receptive to conversation despite the harsh-lived cruelty his face and vocation would initially imply. The Zabrak then extended his hand for a handshake in greeting and in an indirect offer for peace, graciously obliged in silence by a steadily-calming Kandaran as his new acquaintance continued,'And as for the locker-room matter, I believe we retain information that could be of help. It's gotta be worth our time though, I'm sure you understand.... So my only ask now is - what can you offer us for this information in return?', letting go and leaning back into the shadows again.

'You mean - besides the complete eradication of their hierarchy, and before the sun rises in the morning? I'll pay my way in results, and you can cross the names off your hitlist if it means that much to you by then.... I'm here to work, so I'll just be grinding my way to an equivalent-merit on this one.'

 

[Iseri Tanaka]

Kuatian Orbital Communications Uplink, Kuat City
With Iris Arani

​

Stray blaster bolts scarred the floor, ricocheted off of that pink blade and screamed into the ceiling, marred the walls and sent sparks scattering in showers when they struck the tile. Yet despite it all, the Jedi still advanced towards him with a persistence that told a tale of utter bravery. Any of those shots of his could have erred, the barrel aimed a fraction too high or low, and the most dreaded outcome of all could have occurred. Yet it didn’t. On top of it all, none of those bolts came sailing back towards him. How easy such a thing could have been for a Jedi. A stationary target, firing rhythmically, back against the wall as it were?

If their intent were to put him down, it could have been done. But it wasn’t. This was the result of two people, forced by duty to carry out what they must, yet unwilling to cross a terrible threshold to accomplish it.

Iseri would have been thankful for such a fact, if it weren’t buried beneath a far more pressing concern. There was but a finite amount of space between them, and it was rapidly shrinking. His salvation lay in time itself. Time, that in the same moment, seemed to stretch on forever and in a blur simultaneously.

‘4’, ‘3’, ‘2’,

Hesitation claimed Iseri’s trigger finger when the gap between them lessened to what couldn’t have been more than a few strides. Iris was near impossible to miss now. What could have been one final, near certain shot never came. The blaster fell silent, smoke trailing from the barrel in the aftermath of the barrage.

The next moment was too chaotic for Iseri to process. The Jedi became a blur, a brilliant streak of pink flashed across his vision. Sparks erupted from the severed barrel of the blaster pistol, cloven in two with a precision strike that could have just as easily disarmed him in the other sense of the word.

It was over. Time had run out.

Ding

The doors of the turbolift disappeared, and Iseri stumbled backwards into the sudden void created. Time had run out. As well as just enough had been bought. The moment was seized upon, the button for the top floor stabbed with a finger.

There was a moment between when the button was pressed and the doors would slide closed and usher him up to the array. It offered just enough time for a quick word to be exchanged with his pursuer.

Such a time ought to have been used to gloat over a victory, to make some remark that would make the sting of failure be felt that much deeper.

All Iseri could manage in that moment was a sympathetic smile and a pair of words. “Thank you.”

 

[Iris Arani]

The smoking remains of the blaster had been dropped, the threat removed. But the doors had opened. Iseri Tanaka was going to escape through them. Even as the doors closed all she'd need to do was thrust out. A simple flick of the wrist and the super heated plasma within her blade would cut through durasteel and into the flesh of the agent on the other side. Ending the problem.

Ending a life.

She refused. It wasn't hesitation, but full on refusal. Her blade spun in her hand as she watched him. Just for a moment.

“Thank you.”

Any other scenario and she'd appreciate the thanks. Right now? She clicked on her com, rushing for the stairs to make the assent up. She wouldn't catch him before he did what he came here to do, but maybe if she caught him she could convince him to undo it?

:: Master, someone has infiltrated the Communications Uplink. I was unable to stop them, but I am trying to capture them. They're.. I'm not sure what they're going to do. :: The message was swiftly sent to Valery Noble . Hopefully her master could advise her on what to do next. Right now, all she could hope was she could fix whatever she'd let break.

 

[Lyrrin]

-

Delegates: Caarlyle Rausgeber Gat Tambor Julius Loghain
SIA: Kalie Alverez
Foes: Hal Vaiken Don Belkora Rika Hiro

---

Having scaled the building with no interception the agent had entered through a window in which he had opened using a bit of technical know-how. As he was inside a dark, empty, room he smoothed out his clothing and looked around on the ceiling for some sort of weakened area or removeable panel. Lyrrin couldn't very well walk out into the middle of a government hall without some form of credentials. Perhaps for a time it would be alright but as soon as building security went to check him he'd be in a lot of trouble. No, it was better to remain unseen to begin with and that meant the area between this floor's ceiling and the next's floor.

"Found you." he whispered to himself as he located a ceiling tile of a slightly different make. To his trained eye he could discern the difference and that this was meant for maintainer droids to access the wiring and plumbing that ran in the spaces between floors. Picking up a chair and quickly walking underneath the tile he stood on the furniture until he was able to reach it. Lyrrin took from his belt pouch of tools a device that was similar to an automatic screwdriver and loosened the plate until it opened and swung down on a hidden hinge. With some effort he was able to lift his body through it.

Closing the plating behind him and securing it the agent began to crawl through the space towards where he had originally set some of the monitoring devices. It was slow going but he did eventually find himself over the room meant for the talks. Lyrrin rolled to his side and put keen ear to the ceiling tile and closed his eyes as he began to eavesdrop. Little did he know what horrors that his good friend Kalie was going through. All he knew was that the information that the agency required was going to be part of these talks. There was a handheld device in his left hand which appeared to be some form of datapad. Meant only for one hand it would allow Lyrrin to type notes in a form of Galactic Common shorthand. Completely ineligible to those not trained to read such but not difficult for those who knew the judicial writing system.

 

[Iseri Tanaka]

Kuatian Orbital Communications Uplink, Kuat City
With Iris Arani ​

The durasteel door slid shut without incident, a subtle vibration filled the turbolift, and for the first time since stepping into the facility Iseri took a breath. A true, genuine bracing one that sought to calm the whirlwind that existed within the mind after such a turn of events. That and to enjoy the music that accompanied such a journey. That famous, Kuatian turbolift music certainly did live up to its name.


Running into Iris hadn’t been anticipated, that was for certain. Nor was the deviation from standard procedure in such cases. That being the elimination of witnesses, especially those that had seen his face. Knew his name. His real name, at that. Not whatever name had been printed onto the fabricated Scandocs. Every standard operating protocol, even cold, common sense all pointed to doing the obvious. Extinguishing a life in the pursuit of the mission.

That had been something he wouldn’t do. Couldn’t do. This was no opposing intelligence asset. Not someone who would just as surely kill him as he would them for the sake of the mission. They had proven that. Stayed their hand. Offered him the chance to simply leave, multiple times.

Killing someone who showed such kindness would have been something beyond wrong.

Ding

How funny it was the trip while aboard seemed so much swifter than the time it took for the lift to descend. The doors slid open, and all seemed clear. Iseri was greeted with a sight he’d seen in those previously studied reconnaissance reports, down to the finer details. The walkway to the antenna, the access panel itself, everything was where it ought to have been. Most importantly, it seemed that his pursuer hadn’t reached him yet.

If Iseri had learned anything about his opponent in this short span, beyond their sense of mercy, it was their persistence. He knew they would undoubtedly not forego the chase and accept defeat. If anything the exfiltration from the Communications Array would prove more difficult than the infiltration.

Cover was blown, he was disarmed, and Iseri held a troubling suspicion that Iris had called in what was transpiring. Becoming outnumbered could swiftly be added to that growing list of concerns, if things were to go as they were anticipated.

Exfiltration was a bridge that would be crossed when reached. For now, Iseri made his way across the bridge that spanned from the building to the antenna itself, not more than a few yards over the open air, before the panel was reached. He got to work.

The process had been practiced to the point Iseri could have carried it out one handed. If anything it had been dumbed down. All that fell to the agent was to remove the panel, connect the correct wires to the corresponding ports on the datapad he’d carried in the bag all this way, and to hide the gadget well within the mess of wires and gizmos inside the access panel. That, and to cover tracks by sealing it closed to leave any actual passing technician none the wiser anything had been tampered with.

It was a process that didn’t take long. The mission was a success. ‘Now’ Iseri thought as he crossed back over the bridge, ‘To get out of here is the real problem.’

 

[Aerarii Tithe]

MARKET SPECULATION
CHANCELLOR’S SUITE // CORUSCANT

Mirana Praji | Seto du Couteau | Annasari | Faith Organa | Elizie Athacorr | Auteme | Mazik Stazi | IVI

While their suggestions were as varied as the worlds they represented, the assembled Senators largely agreed on one thing - the Alliance needed to take a stand against the New Imperial Order.

The Member for Arkania warned that while the Alliance could not afford another war, they could also not afford to show weakness. The Member for Duros raised the possibility of further worlds falling to Imperial control if Kuat was allowed to secede from the Alliance.

The newly elected Member for Epoch proposed they seize Imperial assets at Kuat while concurrently undermining the Imperials within their own borders. The Vice Chancellor supported aggressive market intervention, with the Chair of the Committee on Health and Science proposing using other shipyards to supplant Kuat’s manufacturing dominance.

“The unfortunate, unfortunate collapse of our southern neighbours may provide the, ahh, the boon we seek,” Tithe’s mused as he turned his gaze to a starchart projected above the conference table. Powerful bastions of manufacturing - Fondor and Mechis III among them - now laid within the grasp of the Alliance, no longer beholden to their Confederacy masters. “Yes, investment in these fertile markets - both diplomatic and fiscal - may negate any losses incurred at Kuat.”

The Chair of the Foreign Affairs Committee noted that Loghain was made by the Alliance, and could be unmade. The Chair of the Committee on Finance and Commerce counselled against open warfare with the NIO, echoing Auteme’s suggestion to wage a covert war on the Imperials.

“You now, we have a saying on Aargau,” Tithe offered, unsolicited. “That if you show me an unprofitable board, I’ll show you a fool of a Chairperson. Loghain was installed by my predecessor, and we alone - yes, those of us gathered here today - hold the power to unseat him.” Loghain’s ascension had predated Tithe’s time with the Alliance, but based on his background briefing, the Lord Regent has asked the Senate to prop up his regime over the ruling families. What had been done could also be undone.

“Yes, a symbol to rally around, that is what Kuat calls out for.” Tithe rose from his seat and began to slowly circle the conference table, his countenance and posture adopting the public persona so often seen on the Senate floor or in holonet interviews. “We need a familiar face, a legacy to be restored. No, no - we need a fresh start, a new cause for the Kuati people to take up, the promise of a brighter future.” By now the Chancellor was in full flight, his voice projecting and emphasising key phrases as his hands moved to keep attention and highlight his arguments.

“We need…” He came to a stop and slowly turned to the assembled Senators as if he’d experience a sudden revelation. Or perhaps simply practising his political theatre. “… a symbol of hope!” The Chancellor returned to his seat and took a glass of water. But just as the vessel came to his lips, he paused.

“And of course, should a wide ranging and deniable insurgency just to happen to materialise within Imperial borders, well, that would be most fortuitous indeed.”

 

[Thane]

P A G A N
NEW IMPERIAL ORDER
IMPERIAL SECURITY BUREAU
FIELD OPERATIONS GROUP
Bodyglove | Vambraces | Tactical Gear | Pistol
Monos | Phaineve Halseigh

NIGHT WALKER
​

This was hardly the resistance he was expecting from Alliance assets. The Empire had a comprehensive knowledge of the Galactic Alliance's military and intelligence assets, being that the two worked in close tandem through the Third Imperial Civil War for nearly decade. Units such as the 'Wolfpack', the 222nd, the Nova Marines and the SIA all had the utmost respect of the Imperial Armed Force...whatever this was, was hardly anything Thane was familiar with. And admittedly, hardly what he expected facing up against in this operation.

Murgle's abrupt entrance certainly snapped Thane's attention for a moment, his left hand breaking from the grip of his pistol to aim the vambrace in the direction of the alien as he kept the blaster trained on Halseigh before speaking up, his characteristic Imperial accent and Chiss inflection devoid from his voice as he tried to speak as if he was someone from the Core, Denon was the precise accent and mannerisms he replicated to be exact.

<"Hey woah, woah, woah! Let's all settle down, huh?! I'm not lookin' for trouble like this? You want the loot of this guy's place too? Fine, take it, I don't care!"> He immediately snapped to a criminal alter-ego in an attempt to soothe tensions or at the very least, draw immediate suspicion away from him.

<"They pay me as a cat burglar, not a murderer so just- chill, ok?!"> He iterated, his eyes snapping between them in anticipation for any sudden movements at which point he could send a blaster bolt into either of them be it from his pistol or vambrace.

 

[Gat Tambor]

LORD OF WAR
NEW IMPERIAL ORDER
DIRECTOR-GENERAL
IMPERIAL BOARD OF ECONOMIC DIRECTORS
Julius Loghain | Caarlyle Rausgeber | Hal Vaiken
Kalie Alverez

LOCATION REMOTE
​

Gat listened to the two, content that Loghain knew that he could not infact go to war under a house divided and the matters of the 'Night of the Guillotine' seemed far more fitting for Imperial Military and Intelligence to take care of with Carlyle matching that belief whole heartedly in his reply before becoming obsessed with the captured asset. An agent, monitoring the supposedly secret meeting between the Imperial delegation and Loghain. Tambor looked in the direction of the woman, seemingly devoid of any interest beyond his wide, Skakoan eyes before turning to Loghain once more, evidently not concerned as well- she'd already been apprehended and interrogation was hardly his field of work.

Business was.

<"OWWWWWWWWWWWRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE- and so Mister Loghain, the Imperial Security Bureau alongside the Imperial Military Assistance Group will provide you with all the means to execute the purge of your political opponents, the matter comes with the Alliance's response there after. I highly doubt we will be put into a position where Kuat will need to fight itself out of the Alliance and if we are- your role means very little if I might be honest. The onus will be put on diplomatic and military posturing to free Kuat, if the Alliance knows the Empire is involved which-"> He gestures to the agent.

<"It seems they might, they will be reluctant to engage in direct combat action against the Empire, not risking a hot war, not while the Maw continues to bear a grave threat to the Core. Regardless, the leverage is still held in the clutches of the Chancellor and his band of criminals. Regardless, the means and resources will be granted to Kuat in its transition to the Empire. The Empire can certainly promise further economic ties and development of Kuat and I can assure the Trade Federation's financial backing as well. With opposition removed and the offer too good to refuse to the sovereign people of Kuat- the Galactic Alliance will have a dire picture to paint of their involvement going in, to force a planet into its union that does not care for it to be involved. And once one piece is removed, Loghain...other worlds will follow you and you will be the catalyst for the greatest political change of our generation beyond the Third Imperial Civil War...and I know being the one to write history certainly appeals to you."> Gat explains.

 

[Monos]

K U A T

WAR HOGS BLACK OPS - REBEL ALLIANCE
No longer hiding in Quintus Verone's Apartment.

Thane Phaineve Halseigh Traden Avarice

The Anzellan dusted himself off as he stood up, despite not being dirty at all – more of a displacement activity than anything. The room was littered with random papers – some post-its still lingering in the air. The tiny alien, barely taller than the average liquor bottle, stood straight in the middle of the living room and appeared rather unfazed despite weapons being pointed at him and his teammate. He listened to the shadowy intruder without interruptions.
​

<"Hey woah, woah, woah! Let's all settle down, huh?! I'm not lookin' for trouble like this? You want the loot of this guy's place too? Fine, take it, I don't care!">

– Mm-hmm, no thanks. – Is all Mox said while nodding and stroking his chin, but still standing in one place, exhibiting no signs of an intention to escalate the situation. Being linguistically challenged, the idea of the stranger's accent possibly carrying information didn't even cross the Anzellan's mind. His first thought drifted toward the appearance of the mysterious individual. For a regular robber, he sure seemed outfitted with expensive-looking armor. Yet this alone did not help the War Hogs in discovering any traces who would want Verone out of the picture or why – a boring job, being the shadow of a local … celebrity. It was a strange assignment anyway; in tense situations like these was it most apparent that he had a lot to learn about espionage. And understand. Entire days spent in smelly ventilation ducts and sewers; but why was he surprised? His size was his most apparent quality, obviously. Honestly, he did not expect any action. The higher-ups must surely know more, he thought.
​

<"They pay me as a cat burglar, not a murderer so just- chill, ok?!">

Phaineve would undoubtedly handle this talking stuff better, he thought, and perhaps his personal energy shield gave him a false sense of security, but the strain of days-long monotonous hiding in narrow spaces deprived him of his usual patience. He opened his mouth, not even trying to mask his characteristic, broken way of speaking basic. – Okay, here is deal, burglar-cat. – He cleared his throat. – You put down blaster plus jamming tech there. – He points at a coffee table that has an ashtray in the middle. – Who are you, anyway? You're at wrong place, wrong time, as they say the saying. – His face and open palm gestures conveyed genuine interest and confusion.​

 

[Valery Noble]

​

Location: Kuat​

Valery: Appearance​

Tag: Iris Arani ​

​

With her recent shift away from the Jedi Shadows, Valery's involvement in intelligence work had significantly decreased. Her focus had moved on to new fronts, and thus her involvement in the ongoing affairs on Kuat had been very limited. But when she received a message from her Padawan, she made sure to be available.​

​

:: Master, someone has infiltrated the Communications Uplink. I was unable to stop them, but I am trying to capture them. They're.. I'm not sure what they're going to do. ::​

​

It was rather clear to her that Iris needed advice and some direction, so she opened comms on a secured frequency and offered her answer in return.​

​

:: "Remain calm. Focus on capturing the infiltrator first, and alert staff at the facility about the security breach. Get the array offline until there is certainty about his actions there. Iris, if you need help, let me know and I will come your way. Force guide you." ::​

​

​

 

[Iris Arani]

:: "Remain calm. Focus on capturing the infiltrator first, and alert staff at the facility about the security breach. Get the array offline until there is certainty about his actions there. Iris, if you need help, let me know and I will come your way. Force guide you." ::

Right. Remain calm. She stepped through the door to the stairway, glancing up. How many flights was she going to have to scale? Running up them would take foreve- Wait. She reached down, pulling off one of the things on her belt. A grappling hook. No good Jedi was without one! She aimed up and fired, letting it pull her up the flights. It wasn't anywhere near the speed of the lift, but at least she wasn't going to exhaust herself sprinting up every stair.

When she finally did reach the top floor, after a quick call to the security downstairs, she stepped outside. On the other side of the bridge. Facing Iseri Tanaka . The Jedi had her lightsaber in hand, extinguished for the moment. Everything about her was tense. Heights were a new thing, yeah. But.. He'd finished whatever he set off to do. Right? He must have, in the time it took her to get here.

"Undo what you did."