Private Curse of Sycorax

[Dagon Kaze]

"Claimed to be a refugee?" Dagon arched an eyebrow studying the image of the so-called Messala; arrested by a Silver Jedi in Alliance space? Sounded really out of the ordinary. Sounded like another investigation on his desk. Usually, dealings between the Concord and the Alliance, or between the New and Silver Jedi were reported. He had found nothing about it when he had first dug up more about Dahrtag on his way here.

"What was he actually?"

Kai Bamarri

 

[Kai Bamarri]

Surprise! Things happen in GA space without the GA knowing a damned thing about it all the time. Amelia smiled to herself and shook her head. How very by the book this young Jedi was. Well, hopefully he’d eventually learn that the galaxy didn’t operate on universal rules.

“Considering the timing of his arrival coincided with Draelvasier attacks on Sith-Imperial space, probably a Sith,” she replied frankly. “I say he claimed to be a refugee because it’s impossible to confirm. Refugees come pouring in all the time, with or without documentation. Many of them technically don’t even exist on paper. He was one such non-person, although I suppose he could have destroyed his own documentation to avoid leaving a paper trail." With a shrug she added, "The... irregular nature of his arrest indicated to me that it was more of a personal issue than a legal one. The Silver Jedi and Interpol agents were going to get him, and nothing was going to stop them. Certainly not faction borders."

Dagon Kaze​

 

[Dagon Kaze]

"Hmm, interesting. I wonder if it is somehow related to the newborn. If this Messala was a Sith, then my initial assumptions might be right." a Sithspawn. Dagon rubbed his chin, then, "He might be a dangerous product of the dark side, Lady." he stated grimly, then looked at her, "And the facility might be something more than just a plant lab."

"And you've heard nothing more about that case? Or its relation to the facility?"

Kai Bamarri

 

[Kai Bamarri]

A product of the Force, made by the Sith. Amelia was somewhat familiar with the concept of Sithspawn, though she understood it through less partisan terms. She made no distinctions between the supposed “dark” and “light” sides of the Force. Those were simplistic ideas applied to something too complex to be fully understood. A being created through such methods was undoubtedly dangerous, but then they had seen that already. The Sithspawn boy had killed or lobotomized a dozen people before he was captured.

“Oh, I don’t doubt it,” she said, crossing her arms over her chest. “Messala was sentenced to life in prison somewhere in Silver Jedi space, if you want to involve yourself further in this. You could also try to track down the two agents who arrested him… or you could investigate the facility itself.”

One finger lightly tapped Dagon's solid chest, dragging a little down his sternum as she folded her arms again. “I’d be happy to give you the proper credentials, send you in posing as my agent. They're already suspicious of me for snooping, but they'll be downright trigger-happy if the Jedi or the Alliance come knocking at their door.”

Dagon Kaze​

 

[Dagon Kaze]

A cold touch where it should've been warm. He followed her finger dragging down his chest with squinted eyes before he almost inaudibly snorted; humor, somehow, stealing a piece of his mind.

"So a deal with the devil, huh?" his signature, lopsided smirk growing on his face. Here. we. go. again. "Might as well start with the facility since I'm already here."

"Think they'll roll the red carpets like you did?"

Kai Bamarri

 

[Kai Bamarri]

“I’d say the satyr is more classically devilish than I am.” She raised an eyebrow at Messala’s mugshot, playing along with the moment of unrepressed humor. “What with the horns and all. Me, I’m more of a vamp.” The word came out with lethargic emphasis, more a careless statement of fact than innuendo. “A deal with a vamp doesn’t sound so bad, no?”

Turning her back to him in order to access a desk heretofore hidden in shadow, she reached into a drawer and removed a set of keys and a small white card. She held them out to Dagon, the key ring dangling from her pinky and the card held between her thumb and forefinger.

“They’ll at least give you a lukewarm reception so long as they think I sent you. After all, they’re here by my generosity. The keys are to a ride, if you need one. Try not to catch cold down there.”

Dagon Kaze​