Private follow the white rabbit!

[Lyssara Thrynn]

Somewhere on Taspir III, next to a military base, there's a precious laboratory where wonders and wonders happen. There are three levels in this underground laboratory, where security is also extreme, no doubt the goods accumulated in this laboratory are worth the effort. Especially as it's in the territory of the Diarchy, this faction's growing power means that it accumulates treasures, wealth and unique objects or personal collections.

In any case, it's a typical Sith location. It's also worth noting that acid rain occasionally pours down on taspir, which is why the building is underground, protecting itself and its infrastructure from corrosion, with equipment securely protected and stored.

On the underground laboratory floors, there are three major points of interest: the first floor is a scientific complex where armories, secret military projects and o-24 drugs are newly tested and produced, in this case a kind of orange powder with unknown effects. There are various biological creations, viruses are being studied, it's clearly an advanced biology laboratory with state-of-the-art equipment.

the second floor is a anti matter researsh center, with advanced technology and hardcore security dispositive here, because its a very dangerous floor the third floor is a quarter for member of laboratory

And who supervises all this? Me, with the help of my master, I'm currently in the lower part of the lab, level -3 houses my living quarters where I spend most of my time these days. I'm looking after my subordinate Nyva Shei, explaining various scientific projects to her, security is as usual, soldiers are on patrol, some reconnaissance droids are running, so I can enjoy the day working on my dark designs.

the days are similar and pass one after the other, my projects progress at their own pace and we can even say that thanks to my invention I have more than enough budget to finance each of these at a good pace, I have to move to complete all these files the diarchy is moving at a good pace and I have to keep up the pace, I'm going to get a cup of coffee from the nearest machine, luckily I have one installed in my apartments, I 'press the drinks dispenser and wait with your hands in your pockets to make me a good coffee.

 

[Glade]

Heist Target: Secure Labs.
Employer: Unknown Undervine Connection.
Target: Classified Chemical Compounds, N74 Black Box Records, Epitome - Prototype Slicing Software.
Crew: Rogue Protocol Seven-Man Team.
Tag: Lyssara Thrynn

"Comms check." Chronicle tapped his earpiece, and voices crackled back in turn.

Biggest heist to date. Glade could barely sit still, fidgeting like a youngling on a sugar rush in her hoverchair as they closed in on the target. Mysterious employer. Fat payout. The buzz of the moment was electric, thrumming under her skin. She had to hit it. Stim to the arm. Sharp sting. Eyes blown wide. The world snapped into high-definition, hyper-speed clarity, her ice-cold breath hit crystalplex glass, fogging over.

"Nifty." Her face a glow, ignoring Sickle's sideways glance.

Silent as shadows, the hovertruck's black doors peeled open, and seven figures disembarked into the dark. They were a walking middle finger to the norms—blending in by standing out. Clad in Denon streetwear, dripping with so much tech they practically screamed on every scanner, yet their jammers and stealth rigs kept them ghosting through the static. High-risk, high-reward play. Some of the last remnants of Darkwire, still running jobs, still making noise. Wrapped head to toe in protective gear. No one wanted to feel the acid rain kiss their skin.

"Heavy gig. Off-grid now."
"We slide smooth, we shine rich."

Excitement ran through them, sparking in their voices. Not many of them were past twenty. Most street runners and slicers never made it that far.

Glade's finger brushed a photo tucked inside her jacket—a faded, off-center snapshot of her mother. A different life. A different world. A moment captured before everything had spun too fast to hold onto. Tornados. She pressed it to her chest for half a second, then zipped it away.

"You good, girl?" Sickle called back.

Glade's grin answered for her—eyes stretched wide, skin pale as the moon, pulse drumming in her throat. The stim steadied the tremor in her fingers, but she didn't look great.

"Call it." Juju's voice broke the moment.
"Forty seconds." Chronicle kept time.

Acid rain drummed a slow, steady rhythm. Same deal, different job. Glade's visor snapped down, cables linked in, fingers dancing over the interface of her chair, time to slice. "Show me what ya got."

 

[Lyssara Thrynn]

The sound of coffee pouring into my cup fills the entire room, resonating in the silence of the laboratory. A routine, a perfectly ordinary day… at least on the surface. Because I know. I know things my subordinates are still oblivious to.

Outside, a small team is getting into position, moving with the stealth of predators on the hunt. One of them is already attempting to infiltrate our database through a remote terminal. I saw it coming. Of course, the laboratory is equipped to counter such attacks. An alert immediately pops up on my datapad, signaling the intrusion. But I deliberately ignore it. The security protocol is engaged. Everything is unfolding exactly as planned.

From their vantage point on the ground, the intruders can see the entrance to the laboratory, framed by a luxurious hangar protected by an acid-rain shield. On either side, imposing defense turrets stand guard, silent but relentless.

The system Glade is desperately trying to hack grants her access to information she was never meant to see. Crucial details flash before her eyes: the existence of an ultra-secured antimatter lab on the second floor. A separate, heavily guarded server storage room. Military patrols of two-man teams and droids moving through the corridors in programmed cadence. The security cameras grant her a panoramic view of the facility, allowing her to explore it virtually at will.

She also discovers our torture chambers remnants of experiments no one must ever learn about. And the drug. That new orange powder, still unknown to the public, but well understood by our finest scientists.

Then, on level -3, her gaze falls on me. Sitting on my couch, a steaming cup of coffee in hand, I casually converse with Nyva.

"I can't wait to commercialize it, but I need a name more appealing than O-24. Any ideas?"
"Not really, sorry. Mistress"
"No problem. We'll come up with something eventually."

With a measured gesture, I place my cup back on the coffee table and activate a holo-screen with a flick of the remote. The security camera feeds scroll before my eyes. Everything is going according to plan. Order still reigns. Everything is quiet.

Even though they face heavy military pressure, the military base surrounding this facility is an additional threat, a serious one. They'll have to play it smart to infiltrate the lab without getting caught.

With a light sigh, I switch the screen to the holo-news. The tension lingers in the air. The trap has already been sprung.

Glade

 

[Glade]

Location: Just inside the Perimeter of the Shadow Lab moving to the hangar.
Employer: Unknown Undervine Connection.
Target: Classified Chemical Compounds, N74 Black Box Records, Epitome - Prototype Slicing Software.
Crew Condition: Glade, Sickle, Chronicle, Juju, Ibis, Savant, Trix
Tag: Lyssara Thrynn

"Yeppers! In. Cruisin' like a Bothan barber—never outta work, always somethin' to slice. Ohhh stimshutters! lovin' this choice data." Glade's fingers danced, firing feeds to their visors, decks, wrist-links. The torture rooms made a few of them go stiff.

"Kriff this, deadheads. Too easy, got a bad fe—"
"Stop." Savant cut Juju off, curt as always. He didn't waste words. They moved.

The military base next door made this whole thing dicey. They'd ghosted past the outer checkpoints 'cause of the hovertruck's clean-cut uniform design and Juju's slick ID forgery, but inside? No more coasting.

"Shield's still up," Ibis clicked, jacked straight into the central hub, eyes unfocused, head tilted in that half-there, half-gone way deep slicers had. A dangerous game.

"Working it," Sickle grunted, neck-deep in a connection box. A dumb slicer would just yank the shield down and set off alarms. Denon streetrunners that dumb didn't make it past their first payday. Instead, Sickle played it smooth—tripped a micro-overload, subtle enough that base ops would think it was routine wear. A problem they'd fix for them by shutting down the shield.

Now? Just the waiting game. A few checked holonet messages, one sparked up a spice stick, Glade bounced, fingers tapping a phantom rhythm against her chair. Then—

"Spin their world, Glay-Glay." Sickle, half-buried in wires, didn't even look up.

Glade grinned, her neon warpaint catching the dim lights across her cheek. One click on her deck, and Fyor-Droid's subtle virus hit, faked to be a signal error. North became south, up down—turrets jerked like drunk dancers, tracking the sky instead of them.

"Ten minutes." Chronicle flicked his timer. Stealth fields cranked to max.
"Go."

 

[Lyssara Thrynn]

I stand in the main control room, facing the row of monitors that display the progress of these intruders here on Taspir III. The underground corridors are bathed in a reddish glow, a sign of the magma roaring beneath our feet. Behind me, I hear Nyva, my assistant, waiting in respectful silence.

I remain calm, focused. Every sound, every vibration of the complex feeds my thoughts. I watch them these potential candidates overcoming the first barriers one after another. They have no idea they're part of a meticulously orchestrated test. I savor this duality: on the one hand, they believe they are carrying out a perilous infiltration; on the other, I have personally guided them here, curious to measure their resourcefulness.

Suddenly, I turn toward Nyva, with a deliberate and poised motion.

"Nyva, cut their video feed. This is an order." I say in a low but authoritative voice.
"Pretend there's an urgent reboot of our security systems. If they're sharp enough, they'll realize they need to manage without their cameras. If they don't react… Well, we'll have some fun."

[System reboot in progress]

I let my sentence hang in the air, meeting her gaze. Nyva nods without a word and immediately taps on the console. The video feeds of their terminals vanish. Now deprived of their digital eyes, they face the unexpected: an essential element in evaluating their on-the-ground skills. The lab system has now fully rebooted; only the shield they deactivated remains down. Fortunately for us, the weather is now clearing up.

"Do you think they'll realize the true nature of this trial, Mistress?" Nyva asks me, her eyes fixed on me.

I sense her interest, perhaps her impatience. But I allow only a slight smile to show.

"They'll figure it out once they collide with the rest of my defenses. For now, let them press on. I want to see how they handle losing their tools. It's a way to test not only their technical prowess but also their resilience."

I redirect my attention to the remaining screens, where I see their silhouettes moving through a corridor that trembles under the assault of the magma. Each vibration, each metallic creak, reminds me of the raw power that slumbers beneath Taspir III's surface. I allow my senses to extend, guided by the Force: I feel their determination, their doubts, the rising adrenaline as they venture deeper into my domain.

"If they fail, Mistress, should we initiate the elimination procedure?" Nyva resumes in a professional tone, though I detect a hint of tension.

I slowly shake my head.

"No, Nyva. We will capture them. Even if they fail, these intruders might still prove useful for my research. There are other ways to test their worth… and bend them to my will. You told me you want test little method for interrogation, you can be fun, just wait and see."
"Of course Mistress"

Her complete obedience pleases me. I've carefully arranged this recruitment, and I cannot afford to lose potential talent. Everything here is real: the laboratories, our facilities, the discoveries I'm on the verge of completing. Nothing is fake or disguised: I genuinely wish to gauge the extent of their capabilities and make sure they have what it takes for the next phase of recruitment. I watch their hacker temporarily deactivate the main hangar shield, even though it's only an anti-acid shield anyone can walk through it without worrying about triggering anything. Still, I commend their caution.

"They're close to the main airlock, Mistress," Nyva announces, lowering her voice slightly.

I nod. Their rapid advance indicates they're not entirely helpless. Perfect. I want them confident enough to keep moving, but not so arrogant that they feel invincible.

"Let them in. I want to see how far their audacity will carry them."

I close my eyes for a moment, breathing in the humid air of Taspir III. My anger, my ambition everything that defines a Sith resonates through this place. I know I'm in control of the situation: every corridor, every ventilation grille, every security protocol follows my commands. To them, it's a maze filled with traps; to me, it's a playground to test their potential. I've deliberately placed the new O-24 drug because I know one of them has a strong addiction, and the chance to discover a new product would be too tempting. By letting them see the camera feeds earlier, I revealed all the lab's points of interest, which will help me determine their objectives and methods. That's why I gave them free rein to plan their route—otherwise, it wouldn't be any fun.

"Nyva," I finally say, turning slightly, "stay ready. At the slightest sign of excess, initiate the lockdown and secure my research. Whatever they do, there's no way I'll let them compromise the progress of our work."

She bows in acknowledgment. I turn away again, watching the screens once more. They don't know it yet, but they're approaching a crucial point in this trial. If they manage to surprise me, if they prove they can outmaneuver my traps… then, and only then, will I consider revealing the truth to them.

With a faint smile, I lay my hand on the control panel, ready to intervene at the opportune moment. This infiltration is merely a glimpse of what awaits them.

Glade

 

[Glade]

Location: Shadow Lab Level 1. Moving past the hangar to the biological laboratory.
Target: Classified Chemical Compounds, N74 Black Box Records, Epitome - Prototype Slicing Software.
Crew Condition: Glade, Sickle, Chronicle, Juju, Ibis, Savant, Trix
Tag: Lyssara Thrynn

Moving like ghosts through the main hangar, their stealth fields barely left a ripple unless you knew what to look for.

"Cams are dead. Lost the feed." Sickle's voice crackled over comms, edged with concern.

"Whatcha mean, Sick?" Glade tapped a nervous rhythm on the chair, that twist in her gut creeping back. The coffee drinker. That feeling. Juju might actually be right for once.

"Sys-ops reboot," Ibis cut in, cool as ever. "Probably triggered by the shield glitch-out we pulled. We still a go?" A hand hovered over the lock. Choices, consequences.

"Send it." Savant's voice sealed it. Juju's scrambler chewed through the next lock while Sickle nudged the X-ray scanner into reboot with the cameras. No need for their gear lighting up like a Life Day tree.

"Hotter than a Hutt's butt in here." Trix the youngest muttered. Glade snorted.

"Nine minutes, thirty." Chronicle kept them grounded. Two-man security teams. Droids and guards. No feed meant no eyes on patrols. "Keep your lifeform and motion sensors tracking," Chronicle advised. His Horus FCP was live—predictive tracking for humanoids, blips for droids. Just don't ask who coded it or why. #Digital Apocalypse

Still no camera access. No way to check what surprises waited inside the lab or at the door.

"On it—pullin' the floorplans now." Glade's fingers flew over her chair's console, neon-lights bathing her visor as she worked. "Gonna find us the backdoors and bad bad news." If any plans existed.

Timing their movements with sharp skill and more importantly sharper data, they moved toward the biology lab. Glade clenched her hand, biting her lip. Tremor in her fingers. That new designer high? No. Maybe?

 

[Lyssara Thrynn]

I stand in the control room, intently monitoring the progression of this meticulously orchestrated recruitment test. The "intruders" move through the laboratory, unaware that they are the candidates being evaluated, and my smile speaks volumes about the thrill of this trial.

"Nyva, track their movements with the utmost precision. Remember, this isn't an actual intrusion, but a test. We need to record everything to assess their responsiveness and ability to operate in real-world conditions," I command confidently.

Nyva, loyal and efficient, manipulates the surveillance instruments, her eyes fixed on the screens that capture every gesture of the candidates.

"Mistress, I've detected their advance towards the biology lab. They seem determined, yet far too cautious for a genuine intrusion. I'm setting the system to record every impulse and movement," she replies calmly, demonstrating a level of precision befitting the best.

I let out a discreet laugh, a blend of satisfaction and anticipation.

"Perfect. Let them believe they're infiltrating a secured domain. Their way of handling the pressure and making decisions in the shadows will reveal whether they are ready to join our ranks. Do not activate any defenses for now. This test must remain discreet," I add, ensuring that every detail will be meticulously analyzed.

The laboratory lights, subtly controlled, create a realistic ambiance without compromising the test. Every sound, every movement, will be logged for our final evaluation.

"Nyva, continue monitoring and note any anomalies in their behavior. They have no idea that I secretly commissioned this exercise. Their ability to adapt and improvise is our key to identifying the future assets of our team," I conclude, aware that this recruitment is based not only on technical skills but also on the capacity to remain calm and effective under all circumstances.

I remain focused, watching each candidate navigate my laboratory, determined to identify those who are worthy of joining our mission. The drug O-24 is present in the biology lab this orange powder, that "shoot of happiness," as I like to call it. It's there, and... it creates an incredible trip. I can't help but smile as I sense their nervousness; they are tense. They hesitate... Ah, the lure of profit. Here, all the cards were dealt from the start..

The rounds continue at a calculated pace, droids patrol the corridors, and everything proceeds calmly... The hangar's shield eventually reactivates once the system finishes rebooting, but they're already inside... The laboratory's ambiance is reminiscent of a Sith genius extremely cautious and dangerous.

The effect of losing the camera feed caused them to download a floor plan of the building a very good reaction. I gladly award them this mark of prudence. For now, I am rather satisfied with what I see. Everythings, is calm for the moment. The scientist and patrols soldiers make her moove normally, nothing is suspect. Except that's news powder. A orange flavour float in the area.

Glade

 

[Glade]

Location: Shadow Lab Level 1. Exiting Biological laboratory.
Target: Classified Chemical Compounds, N74 Black Box Records, Epitome - Prototype Slicing Software.
Crew Condition: Glade, Sickle, Chronicle, Juju, Ibis, Savant, Trix
Tag: Lyssara Thrynn

Thirty seconds burn while Glade slices the floorplans, sweat tracing her neon cheek, visor flashing in her periphery. C'mon, c'mon… "Got 'em!" She pops her lips, beaming. "Uh—assumin' they ain't y'know last year's model." The updated blueprints flash to the team's HUDs.

"Motion sensors ahead. Running a Trojan—hold tight." Ibis, cool as always. "Detectors go dark in 3… 2… 1…" On cue, Chronicle's ion grenade fries two drones. Savant bullseyes the turrets. Ion static crackles, their stealthed silhouettes flashing in the discharge.

"Biolocked! Gotta risk it." A stun baton drops a guard. Thud. Little Trix grunts, shoving the guy's limp hand onto the scanner. "Damn, dude's heavy."

"Thermal sensors, Glade?"

"Sec—aaaand done! Icey ice cold." She beams. With a soft hiss, the door slides open, flickering lights casting jagged shadows.

"You know your lists," Chronicle calls. Glade rolling in like a kid in a candy store—or back in one of her mom's clubs, eyes hazy, humming about Sio and missed dreams, one of a thousand tunes she'd made.

The crew moved fast. Most stuck to the plan. Savant pocketed extra virus samples. Juju hesitated, then swiped hers. Ibis, ever the artist, tagged the wall in pulsing neon. Glade drifted to the lab setup, fingers tapping across high-tech whatsits and gizmos. Definitely the technical term, yep. A soft melody continued from her lips. Kaeshana. Before, y'know… asteroids and stuff. Focus, Nat. Somehow, an extra canister of 0-24 found its way in her grip. She stashed it in her hoverchair, following the others at a float.

"Eight minutes Thirty." Chronicle's voice snapped her back.

Glade rolled out, the next level ahead, but— "Sorry, Sio." One hit. Just one. Doesn't matter. Nothing matters. Velvet warmth flooded her veins, the world tilting, spinning. She swayed in her chair, floating in the orange-soaked rush. Fyor beeped below, his droidy judgment loud as cyber-metal. When did anything else matter, sorry Sio.

 

[Lyssara Thrynn]

"Too easy. Let the teammates leave with their loot, I don't need them for now... That's the Reward of this mission. "

I watch the cameras, a smirk playing at my lips. My fingers dance idly over the holo-interface, tugging at the invisible threads of their fate. They've slipped into the facility just as planned careless, overconfident. I let them. It's the classic mistake of hungry mercenaries: believing that a lack of resistance means a lack of danger.

But I'm here. Watching. Waiting.

The laboratory, a shrine of glass and metal, hums under the pale neon glow. The air is thick, heavy with the volatile chemistry of experiments never meant to see the light of day. Stasis tanks stand in precise rows, like glass coffins, holding indistinct figures veiled in murky liquid. Machines whisper in endless loops, crunching calculations beyond human comprehension. Every surface is smooth, cold, efficient. But there's something else in the air, an unseen presence us.

Their intrusion was predicted. They thought they were breaking into a silent fortress, but this fortress has eyes, and it knows when to strike.

Glade is the perfect proof of that.

She sways, drifting like a leaf caught in a soundless wind. The 0-24 works fast, seeping its chemical venom into every synapse, blurring the line between real and imagined. Her pupils, wide and shimmering, reflect a world no one else can see rippling waves of color, light stretching and distorting in endless trails. Every sound is an echo, a layered murmur vibrating in sync with her heartbeat.

She doesn't hear her teammates anymore. She hears the music.

A song from Kaeshana, old and distant. Yet here it is, real, like a ghost crawling under her skin. A familiar warmth flows through her veins—gentle at first, then searing, intoxicating. A slow-burning ecstasy wraps around her like silk, sending shivers through her fevered body. Her breath is shallow, her skin glistening with a thin sheen of sweat. Her head tilts back, her throat bared to nothing, lips parted on a quiet, absent sigh.

0-24 isn't just a recreational drug. It's both a caress and a knife. It numbs the body while amplifying every sensation. Every touch becomes a crashing wave of pleasure, every shadow a shifting mirage. The floor beneath her wheels no longer feels solid it pulses like a living ocean. Her hoverchair rocks slightly, and in her mind, she drifts beyond the lab, beyond the mission, lost in the embrace of memory and poison.

A tremor runs through her. Her body struggles, tries to pull itself back. Too late. Her mind is already dancing on the edge of the abyss.

"Now. It's my time to take my reward."

Glade made a tactical mistake, one I fully anticipated. Seeing her slip into a trance reassures me it proves 0-24 is effective. I'll be able to sell it at a high price. The market will devour it. Addicts, syndicates, high-rollers they'll all fight to get their hands on it.

"Nyva, she's yours. Go get her. You know what to do."

"On it, Mistress. Consider it done."

In the corner of the screen, a shadow moves silent, precise. Nyva doesn't need unnecessary orders. She knows how to take down prey. She has a gift, a talent for inevitability.

Glade is barely aware of her surroundings. Her fingers brush at the empty air, chasing the last echoes of a song only she can hear. Her dilated eyes follow a light that doesn't exist, a phantom gleam meant only for her. She doesn't feel the hand that closes around her—cold, unyielding.

Nyva reaches her, effortlessly seizing both Glade and the empty vial the one that once held 0-24.

By the time Glade wakes, she will realize she cannot move. She will not see, either. It will be as chains hold her body still, her senses locked away in darkness. A precaution, of course. Just standard security measures.

The game is about to begin. And this time, the rules will turn much, much darker.

Nyva remains seated, datapad in hand, idly passing the time. She doesn't need to watch over Glade. She's not going anywhere.

Glade

 

[Glade]

Location: Blind.
Target: ?????????????
Classified Chemical Compounds, N74 Black Box Records, Epitome - Prototype Slicing Software.
Crew Condition: Glade, Sickle, Chronicle, Juju, Ibis, Savant, Trix
Tag: Lyssara Thrynn

Ecstasy. Freedom. Love? False love. False freedom. And a fading ecstasy in a fading soul.

Eyes wide, blazing, reaching for a world that wasn't there: Kaeshana. Standing in its ruins, the sky breaking apart, a killer asteroid swallowing everything in fire. Mum was there, cutting through the hellstorm, arms outstretched, coming for her. She'd rather stay there. In that violent, desperate moment. Because Sio was still alive. And Nat hadn't ruined everything yet. She'd loved her—so, so much.

The high ebbed, dreamy-orange bleeding into sickly reality. Her world narrowed. Blinded. Limbs unresponsive. Last time she was bound, someone half patched her spine with crystal, gave her back her legs. For a while. Until the tornadoes finished what the war started. But that wasn't the point. She hated hospital beds.

And oh no—what if…? She remembered. The breaking of her spine. The weeks of nothing. The choking terror of never moving again. Healing in the Glade where she'd taken the name.

What had she done?

One hit. Just one. And now—what? A cell? A slab? A grave? She felt nothing. Saw nothing. Was she nothing? Shaking. Pulling. Desperation clawed at her, but her body was wrecked. Worn down by substance, loss and choices she could never take back.

The Force barely touched her now. Before the air would have howled with her grief, torn this place apart in a cyclone of raw, screaming windy torment. Now just echoes. Wisps of wind stirring like ghosts of a time forgotten.

Whatever bound or held her shook. A glass instrument trembled, toppled, shattered. Not enough. Half-trapped in the high, she tried to scream. Her voice slurred, mind drowning in static. How stupid could she be.

OOC: Do the team stay or go, let's find out!
Dice

Spoiler

Rolling 20 for what the crew do with Glade missing. Look for her or finish the mission/leave.
1: They all leave or ignore her absence for the mission.
2 – 3: Sickle looks for Glade, The rest ignore Glade's absence or leave.
4 – 6: Sicke, Chronicle look for Glade
7 – 8: Sickle, Chronicle, Trix
9 – 11: Sickle, Chronicle, Trix, Ibis
12 – 14: Sickle, Chronicle, Trix, Ibis, Juju
15 – 17: Sickle, Chronicle, Trix, Ibis, Juju, Savant
18 - 20: All plus the team gains a new member helping from the facility.

 

[Nyva Shei]

"Curiosity is a nasty flaw… and I love nasty things."

A smile stretched across my lips as I watched her stir. Finally, she was coming back. Slow, numb, drifting somewhere between the comedown and the brutal reality waiting for her. Her fingers twitched, her breathing hitched slightly. She was starting to understand.

Tap. Tap. Two light taps on her right cheek, almost affectionate.

"Come on, wake up." My voice was soft, tinged with genuine amusement. "I know it's hard. But you don't have all day to come around."

She shifted, searching for bearings that weren't there. She couldn't see anything. Just the thick darkness of the blindfold cutting her off from the world. She had to feel my presence, sense it in every tiny noise, in every breath.

I leaned in, whispering close to her ear.

"You're wondering where you are? Sorry, you have a blindfold on your face, simple security check, you understand right ?" A beat of silence, just long enough to let doubt settle in. "That's not important. What matters is that I'm here. And that Mistress Lyssara wants answers."

I let the words hang in the air, letting the tension creep in, coil around her tired nerves.

Then, in a lower, more intimate tone, I continued:

"Me? I like understanding things. I like it when people talk to me." Another pause, deliberate, weighing each word. Tap. Tap. One last time, my fingers brushing her right cheek.

"So… you're going to help me, aren't you? My name is Nyva Shei, i am a healer don't worry i don't want hurt you for the moment, but that's can change if my mistress order this to me you know ?"

Glade

 

[Glade]

Tap Tap Tap.
"Come on, wake up."
"I know it's hard. But you don't have all day to come around."
Glade couldn't move. Couldn't see or barely think past the sick weight in her gut. Paralysis—a too-familiar nightmare. Hand bound, body locked. Blindfold pressing damp against her forehead. Sweat soaked a little under the fabric.

"Yeppers, I'm h…h.here." The words wobbled, nervous, but she forced them out. "C…comfy." A lie. Her muscles ached. Head buzzing. Restraints tight. She was more worried about where Fyor was than where she was. That chair wasn't just a way to get around. It was everything.

"So… you're going to help me, aren't you?"
"My name is Nyva Shei. I am a healer. Don't worry—I don't want to hurt you. For the moment. But that can change if my mistress orders it, you know?"

"S.Sure I'll help." Keep talking. Buy time. "Is umm… is my chair here? Just checkin'. Y'know… t' make s.sure it's okay."

If Fyor was close, she had options. Shields. Guns. Explosives. A droid modelled after her long-dead Jedi genius engineer. But without it? Just Glade, a blindfold, and the growing panic scratching up her throat. Another might say it was time she learned to handle her problem herself, no more damseling in distress.

She swallowed. Hard. Her head swam, stim-highs and force-lows blending into static. She tried—just a flicker of connection, reaching through the Force like a half-dead comms signal. Reaching for Nyva. Just a whisper on instinct.

Nothing. Glade clenched her jaw. A failure. Again. Just like— No. Not now. No old memories. Wait.

She pushed past it, reaching for old memories, hands wrapped around her mother's, Sio training her in their stolen moments together. Keep going. Keep pushing. Army of Light. The rebellion. Her first real connection to the Force, a lifetime ago. She smiled. Gloria Mundi. Good times.

A split-second of clarity. She tried again—nothing invasive, just a taste of Nyva's intent, maybe enough to know how deep this hole really was. She licked her lips, nervous. Lies were easy, and lies were free.

"If this is about umm, y'know… breakin' in an' stuff, those guys just dragged me along. I don't know much, but I'll give you their addresses, n' y'know… my employer, an' oh—oh! I'll throw in a job slicin'. Sort'a like a freebie."

Popped her lips. Forced a grin she didn't feel. Every word? A lie. She'd never give up anyone. Not them, not herself. But a good lie? That might keep her breathing long enough to find a way out. They did have failsafes fake ID's, fake employers to throw into situations like this.

Elsewhere:
The team split. Three hunting for Glade. Three chasing their last scores. A smart move. But smart moves only mattered if she was still alive to see them.

Nyva Shei

Dice:

Spoiler

1st How the team are doing hunting for Glade. #Sickle, Chronicle, Trix
2nd How the team are doing on the heist. #Ibis, Juju, Savant

 

[Nyva Shei]

I smile. Wide. Too wide. I can feel my cheeks pulling, my teeth gleaming in the darkness. Oh, Glade, you're just too funny.

I lean in slowly, savoring the moment. Just close enough for you to feel my breath on your damp skin.

"Hmmm…" I giggle, a short, choppy sound, almost a hiccup of excitement. "Oh, Glade, Glade, Glade…"

I click my tongue, mock disappointment dripping from my voice. Yes i know her name.

"I could almost believe you, you know? Almost."

A sharp, high-pitched laugh escapes me. "But the thing is… I'm me. And I know you're lying."

I pull back just a little just enough to let you breathe, but not enough to let you relax.

"And you're good at it, too! Really good. Good Girl, i like you! That's admirable." I clap my fingertips together softly. "It's adorable, really. So… delicious to watch you cling to whatever scraps of time you think you can buy."

I let the silence stretch. Just for a moment. Just for the pleasure of feeling it settle on you.

Then, with exaggerated sweetness:

"Your chair? Oh, but of course it's here. Just in the next room. Safe. Nice and cozy. All alone."

A shiver of excitement runs through me, pure and electric, dancing down my spine.

"But you… you… you're stuck here. With me. Aren't you lucky?"

I tap your cheek gently with my fingers. Almost tender. Almost.

"Go on. Keep talking. Tell me more stories. I love fairy tales. I want to know everything their addresses, their names, your mission, your employer... What you came here to steal… everything. Oh! And I must remember the selfie for Mistress!"

Then I burst into laughter. Loud. Uncontrolled. Almost too much for the room to contain.

I lean back, sprawling onto the bed, grabbing my datapad, and snapping a quick selfie before sending it off to Lyssara. Then I set it down on the nightstand and turn back to you, running my hand gently along your cheek.I like her, I don't like traitors and she is ready to sacrifice everything to save those close to her... I like her! She might just pass the recruitment test. I'm going to play with it a little more before moving on to the next level.

"Oh, and I need to know… have you taken O-24? What did it do to you? We're planning to put it on the market soon it'll be our little cash cow to fund all of this. Any ideas for a sexier name than O-24?"

Glade

 

[Glade]

Glade still wrapped and held, not going anywhere fast. Breath hot on her cheek, danger humming in the air. She shivered and fought her urge to want to curl up. Where was the droid? Next room? Alone? She started humming, soft and jittery, coding in her mum's words—Gloria Mundi—a rogue protocol inside the tune. Not like she could belt out'a full song, but hey, a little streetside poetry never hurt, maybe. "Oh that's a relief, like uhhh Gloria and Mundi?" Her voice scratched, High Galactic an awkward mix to pair with Denon streetslang, one of mum's old languages. "Y'know, like glowing? The chair's safe, like glory, like the world? You know it?" A scrambled mess of nonsense, but that was the point. Get her curious, repeating the word. All so the chair-droid could hear the trigger words.

Jack the game. Slice the rules. Crack the code.

That tap against her cheek. She tried not to tense, slight hitch in her exhale. Be cool, like when they had her after that battle—no, bad memory, delete that one. Focus.

A laugh, low and chilling. Laughin' was better than worse stuff, keep them talking. "You're smart, okaies, alright-alright, it's like this—I'm from Denon," truth, "and yeah, we kinda'a work for Tenloss Syndicate. They said—look, I'll spill everythin', just lemmie leave, yep? Nope? How about a name? Quasar. Broker way outta District 42." Total lie, but Juju had forged a profile for Quasar so clean even a SIA scan would buy it, ties to Tenloss built in.

The high? hit like a "velvet haze, driftin' on water, sinkin' into the past, all orange glow" pulling me down "a tunnel" to some memory she wanted to stay in. Or maybe that was just her head messing with her. "Silky rush, then your brain goes pop—"

Until you wake up tied down, blindfolded, with a dangerous voice whispering in your ear.

Fyor droid played it low-key. Coded in the image of her old dead genius Jedi friend. No bashin' doors in heroics, but give him time he'd make a smart play. Maybe.

Meanwhile elsewhere:

Sickle, Chronicle, and Trix had almost been spotted, now blending into cover—going nowhere—drifting further from Glade.
Ibis, Juju, and Savant weren't setting any records, but were slipping through the facility cleaner than expected.

Nyva Shei

Team Dice:

Spoiler

1st Sickle, Chronicle, and Trix in searching for Glade.
2nd Ibis, Juju, and Savant in finishing the mission.
3rd Fyor droid, does he hear the trigger, and can he do something clever?

 

[Nyva Shei]

"Denon, huh?"

I let the silence stretch, heavy, suffocating, until she starts wondering if she messed up. Until her breathing changes—subtle, but noticeable. A shiver, a flicker of tension beneath the surface. She's good at hiding fear. But no one's perfect.

My hand brushes against her chin, almost gentle. Almost.

"Quasar, District 42. You really think I'm gonna swallow that like some rookie?"

A sharp, humorless laugh, cutting through the stale air. I've seen dozens of liars. Some sweat, some crumble, a rare few fight to the bitter end. She? She plays. Not bad. Good enough to fool an amateur. But I am not an amateur.

"And that little tune you were humming just now? A lullaby to comfort yourself… or some half-assed code you think you can slip past me?"

I lean in, my voice dropping to a whisper low, dangerous.

"You like risks, Glade. That's good. But if you think you can outplay me, you're gonna have to do a hell of a lot better than that."

A light tap against her cheek. Almost affectionate. Almost.

Then, with slow, deliberate movement, I straddle her, pinning her body between my knees. My fingers trail over her shoulder, up towards her throat before stopping just short. Proximity. Control. I watch for the smallest flicker in her expression, the tiniest shift in her breath. Intimidation works best when you let it seep in, inch by inch.

"Listen to me."

A smirk ghosts across my lips, predatory.

"Don't play games with me. You'll lose. And you know why?"

I lean in, close enough for our breaths to mingle.

"Because you're tied up here… and I'm the one on top."

In one smooth motion, I draw my Mistress's blaster. Elegant, precise. A weapon crafted to kill cleanly. I lift it, letting the metallic click of the mechanism ring out.

CLAK.

The sound slices through the silence like a blade. I press the barrel against her forehead, the cold steel biting into her skin. Slowly. Deliberately.

"I'm going to pull the trigger."

A beat. Silence.

"So think carefully are these data really worth dying for?"

I start counting.

"Three…"

The tension spikes.

"Two…"

I watch. A bead of sweat, a flicker of hesitation, a glance that falters.

"One "

BANG.

The blast echoes through the room. A blank shot. Just sound. Just pressure.

I let the silence settle again, savoring the moment. Some people break after this. Some shut down. The real question is: what will she do?

A slow, knowing smirk.

"So, Glade. Still in the mood to play? I am sorry, i need information, but i have all of this stuff. I know everythings you know ?"

I let the heavy silence linger after the false shot, watching every micro-expression on her face. She reacted well. Too well. She expected a move like this. Either she's been under this kind of pressure before, or she was trained for it.

I tap the barrel of the blaster against her temple, just enough for her to feel it—not enough to leave a mark.

"You've got guts, I'll give you that. Not much of a survival instinct, but guts."

I tilt my head slightly, a faint smirk playing on my lips, as if this whole situation amuses me.

"Sickle, Chronicle, Trix… Ibis, Juju, Savant."

I drop the names one by one, watching her reaction. A tic, a blink, a tiny clench of the jaw—any small tell that could give her away. Oh yeah, just like I said, we know everything about everyone. Strange, isn't it? We know who's who, where they are, and why they're here.

I straighten up and start pacing.

"You're here because we wanted you here. You were recruited by Azure Research Center under the promise that the Shadow Laboratory on Taspir III offered a good paycheck."

I let the words sink in before delivering the final blow.

"In reality, this was all a recruitment test orchestrated by my Mistress. Call your team. Tell them to report to the meeting room. Now. You passed the test. Congrat. "

I give her her comlink by bringing her chair close to her and I free her completely, she can finally see the room where she is lying, her precious chair next to her, the bed, me. All.

Glade

 

[Glade]

Denon, huh? What the hell did that pause mean? Quasar? But she didn't even check the file—Glade must'a been overselling it. Or something was way, waaay wrong'er' than usual Boom? Explosion. C'mon, Fyor, boot up. Nope no still swoopin' savior this time. Just Glay.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

A shiver again, dangerous little pricking feel running through her skin. "Well, uh, whatcha need? We can talk—big. Bigger than Denon, um…" What's bigger than Denon? Anything to get her outta this mess?

"Listen to me." - "Don't play games with me. You'll lose. And you know why?"

Breath close, a tremor shot through her like an overdialed stim high. Forcefrakker. Heart buzzing.

CLAK. Gun to the temple.

No No no. Wait. Not like this. Not here. So so stupid. Always buzz-hoping till she redlined. Darkness closed in. Mind counting down. Eyes shut, holding tight to faces she'd never see again—her crew, her friends, Fyor, her lost daughters, Sio.

Had love once, a home, family, a life, She Frellin' missed it so much.

"Okaies." Trembling. Quiet. Maybe she'd see Sio again. That'd be okay, I guess, maybe.

Bang. Body locked. The end, nope, not the end. Words blurred under pounding; her pulse made her ears ring, brain glitch'ifying. Barrel nudged her skull. Names repeating. Her friends' names. What the glitch? Shaky, everything still buzzing. Her whole system hard-rebooting. She fumbled the comms, little fingers unsteady, blinking to clear the static in her head.

"H.hey guys. And Fyor Droid. Erm. Just w.want'ya ta know I love you all. L.loads. They really wanna help us here. It's a test. 'member Niko? Yep. Bigger job than that." Niko—code for get the hell out. Run. "So like, yep, think you should come check it out. See what they're offering. See ya soon. Love'ya." Might be the last comms she ever sent, wanted to say it, to feel something.

Couldn't chance anything no way she was selling out her crew.

"So, umm," she blinked at the lady, sweat still beading, voice sweet as shakey synthhoney. "Can I call my chair now, if it's okay?" Like nothing had just happened. Yep, no ma'am, nothing at all.

Meanwhile, Elsewhere…
Sickle, Chronicle and Trix, sadly the team looking for Glade hit a cold stop, dead end, surrounded and cut off, they were already caught.
Ibis, Savant, Juju the other three, defied all probabilities. Gliding like nobody else existed. But Savant led the crew. His file had him as a firm pragmatist, well connected, who barely said two words to anyone. But if they called, he'd listen and probably deal.

Nyva Shei

 

[Nyva Shei]

I step back slowly, finally lowering my weapon, but I don't take my eyes off her. I watch her like you'd test a piece of gear after a stress test. See if it holds. See if she's going to collapse now that the pressure is gone.

Glade is still shaking, her pupils blown wide, her breathing uneven. Her body still thinks it's about to die, that it has to keep fighting. Makes sense.
But she's still standing.

And more importantly, she didn't break.I holster my gun in one smooth motion, the click of the lock breaking the thick, suffocating silence. My smile is thin, almost imperceptible. Not mocking. Not pitying. Approval.

"Well done, Glade."

She blinks, lips parting slightly like she wants to say something, but the words get stuck. Normal. Her brain is still rebooting from nearly dying.

"You wanna call your chair?"

I crack my neck, my tone relaxed, almost amused. "Yeah. Go ahead. You are free now sorry i just follow the order of my mistress just like you"

I let her breathe, but not too much. Not enough for her to think it's really over. I want her to understand what this means.
"Do you know why you're still here?" My voice drops lower, more serious. "Because you didn't look for the easy way out. You didn't try to play me. You didn't sell out your people to save your own skin."

I take a step closer, locking eyes with her.

"You could've lied. Played along. Told me exactly what I wanted to hear. A lot of people would've." I let the silence stretch between us, heavy, pressing down. "But you held firm. You understood this wasn't a test of survival. It was a test of loyalty. Trust me i really like you glade, you are loyal."

A slow, almost imperceptible nod.

"And you passed."

I straighten up, cross my arms, and tilt my head toward the exit.

"Get yourself together, kid. Because now, you're one of us."

Then, with a smirk, a glint of challenge in my eyes:

"Welcome to hell of the Diarchy Faction kids, my mistress is the Head mistress of the Researsh and Development sector we are in her laboratory here. That's her place. She do what she want here. She is the boss, my boss. "

"Do you want join the Diarchy faction ? We need people like you. You paid the enter by your life and your soul. Your welcome. Sorry for this test, really."

Glade

 

[Glade]

Codeword dropped, Fyor-droid whirred to life, her chair hovering. Freedom close to hand. she pulled herself sideways, weight shifting over to her chair, small assistance given by it dipping then scooping her up, Glade's muscle memory on auto-nav.

Didn't say much, 'cause what was there to say? A private moment to find her movement she didn't share with many, often sleeping in her chair. Fitting because in that kinda test, a piece of you stayed behind, and didn't just click away, even when the gun was lowered, when the credichits got fatter, and the jobs riskier.

Straightening herself down, her visor flared up, her tech hummed to life, a mess of wires, purple neon in her chair. The weight of her rig pressing down, bringing her home.

"Life's scuzz without your people." Simple truth. Took losing mum and her daughters. Full-circle from being an abused daughter, then crashing her fam that cared to really get it, losing it all.

No matter how frakked up, how burned out, you always double-looped back to family and friends. Even if they were mad enough to TK a tank, even if it hurt to look at them, they cared, that's what mattered. She was setting up to ghost, clean slide past without another word, but the crew were caught, locked down or turned around and keen to play the wildcard, see where it took them. Comms buzzed with opinions:

"Pay looks fat, I'm in."
"No suits clean."
"Ain't costing us a byte to hear them."
"We still gettin' paid or what?!"
"Frak me, this a setup?"
"Chill, this is smooth."

Glade? She let their words ping. Sat in her silence, fingers tapping rhythm on her rig.

At the door: "Sorry 'bout the test, really."

Her gaze flicked over. Could'a unloaded to vent, words made a hole in Nyva—but a part of her knew Nyva wasn't piloting her own ship on this one. Still, wow, her face scrunched. Expression a mix: Cold gun barrel, breath away from death, bound bad memories, buzzing thrill, danger biting, and a setup.

Glade let out a long pffffftt, blowing messy hair from her face as her visor locked in. Grid back up. Firewalls set. Fyor tried to poke deeper, see if she was okay. Glade muted him. And so the team rolled up, speaking seven voices with seven opinions, neon-bright, wired right ready to meet their new offer and see if it stuck.

Nyva Shei

 

[Lyssara Thrynn]

I watch them one by one, a slight smile playing on my lips as the silence fills the room. The test is over, and now it's time to reveal the truth. They thought they had passed a stage, but this was only the beginning. Their game was just a small piece of the puzzle, an initial evaluation. Now, everything is about to change. In the meeting room i am relax and chill. I am waiting for her, and when they arrives, i smile.

I lock eyes with each of them, my voice clear and composed, finally breaking the silence. "
It's time to lift the veil. What you thought was a simple test of your abilities was actually much more than that. You were tested to determine if you had what it takes to join the Diarchy."

I let the words settle in the air, weighing each syllable. I observe their faces, looking for signs of surprise, confusion, or even understanding that might begin to form in their minds.

"Everything you've experienced so far the laboratories, the missions, the false leads all of it was under supervision from the beginning. You've never been in the dark. You were watched, tested, evaluated at every moment because you have become pieces of a plan much larger than you can imagine."

I let time pass, my eyes moving from one to the other, appreciating the impact of my words.

"The laboratories you worked in, the missions you completed, all of it… belongs to the Diarchy. You were manipulated; it was a smokescreen to cover up far more secret, far more crucial operations. You were just stepping stones in a much larger game. You are now on our side, or you will be if you understand the scope of what lies behind this organization."

I pause, a barely perceptible smile touching my lips as my gaze turns to Nyva.

"As for you, Nyva…"

I look at her with silent approval, my eyes gleaming with cold precision. "

You executed your orders to perfection. You followed every directive without faltering, and you did so with ruthless efficiency. I knew you weren't just a servant… but a servant of value. Thanks to you, everything went exactly as planned."

"thanks you mistress, sorry glade, i just follow order."

let a moment of silence settle before softening slightly to emphasize my recognition.

"Keep being as loyal and competent as you have been, you have my trust. Not everyone is given that opportunity."

I straighten slightly, my gaze sweeping over the group once more.

"The test is now over. You've all been judged. The Diarchy now knows who you are. If you choose to go further, a place awaits you in this order, in this hierarchy. But be warned, it won't be easy. What you've done until now… was just the introduction. You are about to discover what it really means to be part of the Diarchy. The real mission is what lies ahead."

I look at them with an icy intensity before continuing.

"The laboratories you've worked in are tied to a larger, more complex network, and this network extends far beyond what you can imagine. It's not just a scientific organization, it's power. Power that you will either understand… or crush, depending on how you play it."

I clap my hands. A detailed map of the laboratory appears before them, the full extent of the facility unfolding like a dance of shadows and light on the screen. They see the antimatter room, the security room, the very place where I was stationed to observe them during their infiltration attempts. All of it is now exposed.

"You did well in trying to sabotage my systems. You even managed to breach some of my defenses. With amateur tools, you've proven that your hacking skills are not to be underestimated." An approving smile touches my lips.


I let the plans disappear, but the essence of what they contained remains in the air.

"As Nyva already said, I belong to the Research and Development branch. But the Diarchy isn't just that. We have an academy on Bastion, a center where you can train and refine your skills. It's where people like you can prepare for a larger role."

I turn slowly towards Glade.

"As for you, Kiffar, your condition can be healed. I'm sure that with the right doctors and equipment, we could restore the use of your legs, repair the botched surgery you've endured. The Diarchy has the resources to offer you what you never thought possible. A new life, and a big family. "

I look at them calmly, my eyes thoughtful. A smile curls at the corner of my lips. "And beyond that, we have equipment to offer. Money, resources. We can provide everything you need to move forward in this new world. Thieves like you? We'll always need them. The Diarchy needs to diversify, explore new horizons. You would be valuable allies in this evolution."

I place my coffee thermos on the desk, a barely perceptible smile on my face.

"My name is Lyssara Thrynn. Pleased to meet you."

I pause, a slight glimmer in my eyes.

"Well, now it's up to you. Do you want to join the Diarchy and claim what you deserve? Or do you want to remain in the shadows, lost and forgotten? The choice is yours. For the robbery stuff you have, you can keep it, i'l give you this like a gift. Good job."

Glade