Fury and deception. Rage and manipulation. Claw and candlelight.

[Mirvak]

Theme.​

The duo stood side by side aboard the Candlelighter's personal ship, surrounded by his slaves. The two observed Tatooine through the bridge's window. A force of raw strength and rage, and a master of control and deceit. The two were nearly opposites in their methods, but they were united by a singular will: to enact revenge and chaos.

...​

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The ship landed in the busy space port of Mos Eisley. As soon as the struts had touched the ground, the ramp lowered and the two descended it. The cries of several different exotic languages echoed in the space port, merchants were offloading their wares, shady smuggler types smooth talked spaceport inspectors, and general scum gathered in a crowd to file through the customs checkpoint.

Mirvak was clothed in a simple loose-fitting robe that hid his identity and kept him cool in the oppressive heat. The beast gripped the hood with his cybernetic hand and pulled it over his head, hiding his disfigured face. Mirvak hoarsely spoke to [member="Dravis Rosilla"] as they made their way towards the customs droids. "She has been exalted since my banishment. Her stature within the Confederacy means she cannot avoid battle. I sense we will find her scent here, and track her." Mirvak made a slight sweeping motion with his cybernetic hand,"This place is Confederate territory. We must tread lightly. You must pull your strings, lest our plans be foiled before their initiation."

 

[Dravis Rosilla]

Dravis hated Tatooine with a burning passion.

I could never resist a good pun.

Dravis' ship was a Sheathipede-class Escort Shuttle, an old, but reliable model. Certainly nothing strange in Confederate space. Dravis and Mirvak exited, the Bith's small steps dwarfed by the giant acolyte beside him. His slaves, abducted men and women, were absolutely loyal to the Candlelighter. He had scooped their minds out over days, weeks, months, and replaced it with his own design. They would protect the ship with their lives as the Sith were away.

Dravis turned to Mirvak as the large man spoke, and responded in kind, adjusting his own cloak around his thin frame.

"If you think you can find a scent in all this filth, by all means." Dravis stretched out his senses, observing the minds around him. They shone with inner lights, streaming through dirty glass. He could twist these criminals around his finger, should he so chose.

"I will do my part, of that, you can be assured." Dravis offered a wry smile, and fell a few steps behind the wolf.

"Lead the way, oh nosed one."

- [member="Mirvak"] -​

 

[Mirvak]

The wolf lead confidently, as he felt he should anyway. Though they were equals, Mirvak never missed the opportunity to strike his place as leader. They milled through the crowd, coming to the droid customs. Mirvak stepped up to one of the unarmed B-1 battle droids. It looked up at the large beast, asking,"Name?" Mirvak growled, being questioned by a droid, his eyes flashing a menacing yellow and barking a guttural threat in his native tongue. "Maazu kwillzku! [Dismantle machine!]" It continued,"Any cargo offloading or notable possessions?" "Do I appear to you as a merchant, here to peddle wares and trinkets?" The droid recoiled,"Uhhhh, purpose for visit?" Mirvak's upper lip curled, revealing his teeth and gums,"Visitiiiing old friendsss'aahh...." The droid's processor could not figure an adequate response to the answer besides,"Move along, move along." Mirvak moved through the checkpoint, shoving the droid aside, the flimsy machine collapsing. "Whoa!" Mirvak continued on, some of the other B-1s looking on but not deeming it necessary to pursue the large beast.

Stepping into the street, the sights, sounds, and smells of Mos Eisley overwhelmed the duo. Merchants, who were in fact peddling wares, cried out to passing folk, smelly pack animals shuffled through crowds, led on by diminutive Jawas. Mirvak's senses guided him to the left, further into the city. They walked in silence, blending in with the crowd. For some time they passed by what seemed to be only run down adobe homes, two-bit stores ran by cheapskates, and scummy cantinas. Until finally, they came to a medium sized police office, with several armed droids standing around. Some suspects were led in cuffs inside, and people bickered and openly disrespected the peacekeeping droids, attempting to free their comrades from this great injustice. Mirvak leaned towards [member="Dravis Rosilla"],"These posts are never left independent of themselves, the faulty machines are given atleast one overseer. He will have a computer with access to the information we need..." Mirvak extended an open hand to the building,"Draw up your strings and make him dance, I have no patience for talk. Only...resuuuults."

 

[Dravis Rosilla]

Dravis followed obediantly as Mirvak manhandled his way past the droids, holding his tongue until they were well away from the machines. He kept his eyes steadily ahead, but his measured words were obvious criticism towards the wolf. "Perhaps it would be wiser to not disrespect the mechanical servants. Broken droids often have their memories checked, to see what damaged them. If they see you, and report you, this little operation is done." The slight man made a throat-cutting motion with his finger, as if to emphasize the point.

They continued on, to the building housing the information they need. Dravis frowned as Mirvak laid out the plan, trying to devise the best solution to the problem. He finally landed on the simplest. "One moment," the Bith commented, the dim lights in his eyes flaring with Dark-Side energy as he projected his consciousness into the building.

It was difficult to find the overseer. Usually, he would tap into the minds of other workers to figure out where he was, but these other workers happened to be droids. However, he finally found the mind he was looking for, a shining beacon of light in his mind's eye.

Within his own mind fortress, Dravis rammed it, crashing through defenses, and taking control. Dravis' shoulders immediately slumped with fatigue, a line of concentration appearing over his eyes. With some difficulty, he dug through the overseer's brain, extracting as much information as he could.

"Jon Pardover," Dravis muttered, as if in a trance. "Wife, Teresa. Children, Jon Jr. and Maven. Residential district, Tatooine, bad neighborhood. Home code. One-seven-three-nine. Confederacy Security Force, rank: Overseer. Security code, seven-seven-two-nine-besh-dash-eight-besh-one."

As he muttered, Dravis moved his hands through the air, the Overseer in his chair within the building doing the same. After it had been completed, the Candlelighter received new information.

"Talon, Srina. Rank: Vice President. Current Location: Confidential. Security reports..." A bit of a pause as Dravis searched through the list. "Treated at Termlin Medical Center, Tatooine."

Dravis reasserted his control over the Overseer, using his mind to squeeze and twist the weaker's into submission. He planted a command into the man's head, crafted it into Jon's very soul.

"I never looked up Srina Talon. I scrolled through presents for my beautiful Teresa's birthday. She'd love a vacation to Alderaan."

Finally, Dravis retreated back into his own mind, letting the other one be. He'd chipped the poor man's psyche, which could result in something disastrous for Jon's well-being, but he'd covered his tracks. And they had a lead.

Dravis wiped a bead of sweat from his large forehead. "Termlin. Does that sound about right?"

- [member="Mirvak"] -​