Dominion Justice Prevails | GA Dominion of Plexis

[Maynard Treicolt]

O U T R I D E R
THE GALACTIC ALLIANCE
JEDI KNIGHT GENERAL
PUGNANTES NOMINIS UMBRA
Zaavik Perl | Kir Dantos | Rynn Vizsla | Loske Treicolt | Ruus
Maijan Paisea | Viribus

Another Sith, Dark Jedi, whatever it was filth slain and he had to keep a move on. On the other side, he was wholly within the criminal territory now and the trail leading him to the nexus point of the captured Alliance operatives ran hot with a tangible lead. Whatever the Twi'lek told him, these criminal scum would see Treicolts retribution made manifest regardless if she was here or not.

"Well, that's one way to do it Master."

"Zaavik hasn't made it up yet, he should be on his way now. We got a good chance of breaking in there, but I think the less straightforward part is going to be getting out. I don't think we know how many we've got guarding and who were going to face to get to those inside. Forward recon seems unlikely at this point, so I think our best option is to go gung-ho."

"The only way to do it as far as I'm concerned. No reasoning with them. If he wanted his fair chance to live, he would've led me to where I wanted." Maynard says in reply. He had worn all his mercy to the bone. At least, his mercy for filth like the Twi'lek.

"I don't want to gamble on how many of these filth are running this op. I'm heading down, going dark. Gonna work off the last signal dripped from the captured operatives. Best I got was the Judicial line. It'll do the job, hopefully." He remarks.

"If you're able to, make some noise, both of you, different directions. Send this place wild in confusion. It'll give me the time to find our people, get them out and then we can call in the cavalry to sweep up." The Jedi Knight commanded.

He descended the wall, ending up on the opposite side from which he started. In spite of now having double the lightsaber killing force he had prior, he fixed them both to his belt, opting for a shadow-y approach for the next stretch. Not as if the tension in his nerves of the prospect of Loske being shipped off world to be embedded in some depraved slaving operation made him any less eager to spill blood, he embodied a more pragmatic approach. After all, he wanted a certain set of results that ended up with these criminal filth in shackles or in the ground and Loske in his arms again.

Simple enough. The nuance came with everything in between.

He crouched himself down behind some sort've industrial container, peering around the corner to see the main compound proper. A quick glance saw Maynard's corridor for a stealthy entry open. A loading dock near a wide open hangar bay, a freighter had seemingly just landed within the hour, grounded maybe out of fear of Alliance retaliation or even better, to transport their newest batch of slaves off world. Either case meant Maynard still had time.

Near that, the frigid smoke of carbonite was slowly vented from a nearby building within the complex. If they were held anywhere, it was no doubt where they could be put on ice for an easy transportation.

It only took choking one of them out cold before the door slid open to the facility, he willed his saber to his hand once more, waiting for a pass by the entrance to the lower level to open the door on his behalf before slithering past the sentry.

He could only assume he was close by now.

 

[Otto Shule]

SENATE FLOOR

Everything was coming together perfectly. The vocal majority had so far willingly accepted the motion presented by both the Senators of Odik and Khomm. That meant, with some minor alterations here and there, the Alliance would soon have its own iteration of the Bondsmen Guild. No more would this August Body allow for Bounty Hunters to run rampant throughout their sphere of influence. Any and All that sought to work for or within the Core Regions would have to register themselves and submit their vessels for inspection. They would be regulated by this legislative body or incarcerated for their flagrant disrespect of the collective laws within the Federation's space. There would also be a mountain of restrictions that would be put into play, limiting their capabilities within Alliance space, as collateral damage was unacceptable. Not to mention the sight of gunning someone down in the middle of the street because they elected to run away - presents an image that not many governing bodies were willing to accept.

Those points, as mentioned earlier, were just the tip of the proverbial iceberg. There was plenty more that came attached to this Bondsman Guild and their supplemental license. The most notable factor was that these Third-party Judicials would be tracked throughout their tenure within Alliance space. The Ministry of Justice would know about their activities. They would likely pay for whatever crimes they committed within the Federation's borders. That was all dependent on if they were allowed to operate within a system - as there was an option that nation-states of the Alliance could opt-out of this program. Why they would pursue such folly was beyond the Replica Droid, but every planet had their own way of doing things. It was likely that they were more trusting of their own people - than Third-rate Professionals with a license to operate.

As more and more voices began issuing their support, Otto found himself glancing towards another Repuslorpod. One that should've housed the representative of the Corscua System. It seemed that the Old man had taken his leave from the Senate for reasons unknown. Well, at least that's what Otto believed before his Senatorial Page handed him a dataslate, rife with data regarding news of the Senator's whereabouts. It seemed the man was attempting to rally more supporters in the upcoming Senate Representative elections. The man had put more importance over his position than the people he represented. Despicable, Otto's positronic matrix mused. The people of Coruscant would've likely sought to see their voices heard in this debate. Trillions of voices, silenced by the absence of their chosen mouthpiece. That was unacceptable, in the Replica Droid's eyes.

And so, within a nanosecond, Otto believed that he had found the best course of action. This vote was all but passed, as only a handful of Senators remained to voice their concerns and vote on the motion at hand. Republic Engineering could do little more to influence their votes, let alone do more than having a say. He was stuck in an advisory position and hamstrung by red tape. That needed to change. With the elections coming up soon, Otto decided to throw his own name into the hat. To become the Champion of the People, whilst seemingly leaving his position as the Head of the interstellar Corporation. The Board of Directors would doubtlessly keep him on as an Advisor. Still, Otto would fully devote himself and whatever resources he amassed over the years in the service of Coruscant - and her people. It was his idea, after all, to continually devote countless credits towards the planet's inevitable restoration.

She would become the Queen of the Core, once again.​

His fingers danced across the surface of the crystalline dataslate as the Replica Droid began building his campaign from the ground up. He started with actionable promises to the people and referenced the work that had already been completed within the Works district. He cited that his efforts and the Corporation's innovations allowed for Coruscant to flourish once more, as countless jobs were created with every new initiative. They were in a better position than ever, and Otto sought to share that prosperity with the trillions of lifeforms inhabited this multi-levelled city world. Not through the generosity from the myriad investments, but through guiding an effective administration - and representing the People's interests on the Senate Floor.

Posters and slogans were designed and distributed moments after the Replica Droid left the gathered session. Within moments, Otto's message was sent across the HoloNet and spread throughout Coruscant's countless levels. It wouldn't be long now, but with his stance firmly rooted in representing the planet's interests first, rather than that of the numerous corporations that populated the system. It was expected to be a landslide. Even though Coruscant's peoples were as diverse as the countless stars that inhabited the heavens - they all were bound by their love for the world they called home. So, he told them, 'If you choose me to represent you on the Senate Floor, we'll make our home better, together.'

Simple words, to be sure - but even the Replica Droid couldn't deny the profound effect it would have on the myriad peoples of Coruscant.

 

[Carolina Tevinter]

Objective 1 — VITA EST IUDICIUM

Planet Coruscant
Federal District
Grand Convocation Chamber

She felt regulation could be a step in the right direction. What she felt more powerfully though was disdain at the idea of granting any form of legitimacy to bounty hunting. Profession was too dignified a word to use for these people. They hunted people outside the bounds of the law for credits, without consideration for the rights of what they would consider “prey.”

She listened to Adhira speak, surprised she would vote in favor of the proposal as it stood now. She was even more surprised when the Senator of Alderaan, Faith Organa herself, voiced her support for the proposal.

These people were without restraint, operating outside the boundaries of the law. Perhaps this certificate would be the right step to bring them closer toward order. Carolina Tevinter stood-up, and directed the pod forward, holding her first up for recognition.

She was recognized.

“I am reluctant to support this proposal as presented on the floor. To encourage people who hunt others for credits without consideration for what is right or wrong, this is an uncomfortable thing. I came here today though prepared to make uncomfortable decisions. I understand the present situation as it stands is a strain on the resources of our Judicial Forces. I would agree with the sentiment, that for the time being, it would be prudent to decrease the hostilities between our honorable officers and these Bounty Hunters.

One day I hope for the abolition of this barbaric custom. However, I am not so naive to think we can put an end to a practice that has persisted since before the days of the Old Republic, in this session. Reluctantly, I will support the proposal as presented on the floor. The Azure System votes yes on the proposal. I pray we don’t come to regret the decision we make today.” she said, turning to face the Senator from Odik, then the Senator from Khomm, before directing her pod back.

“The Senator of the Azure system yields the floor,”

Spoiler: Galactic Senate

Adhira Chandra (Balmorra), Carolina Tevinter (Azure), Ce-Pas-Ton (Tython), Donavon Arturo (Eufornis Major), Fable Solborne (Kalist), Faith Organa (Alderaan), Greeble the Hutt (Vulpter), Hinter Staakten (Duros), Otto Shule (Coruscant), Isanne Septum (Metellos), Jasol Dorsian (Sanjin), Julius Loghain (Kuat), Reynon Gallant (Prakith), Maou (Corellia), Nasser Armstrong (Aargau), Ordon Trozky (Brentaal IV), Kryo Adab (Foerost), Reyes Sutherland (Dremulae), Seth Saaliche (Azbrian), Seto Du Couteau (Empress Teta), Shute Gunray (Caamas), Skawn Kru (Botor), Sssar Taszzn (Eclipse), Taega Vrav'lan (Balosar), Ulrich Sardion (Samaria), Marlon Sularen (Byss)

 

[Loske Treicolt]

OBJECTIVE II // PLEXIS // UKNOWN LOCATION //
IMMEDIATE FRIENDS: Ruus
FURTHER FRIENDS: Maynard Treicolt // Zaavik Perl // Kir Dantos
FOES: BUNCHA NPCS // OPEN
FREEZE_ME​

The hand that forced her head forward turned into a much larger problem. Loske managed to turn quickly enough to cultivate a burst of sparks that surprised the gangster, their chest aglow with yellow tendrils that darted around their flesh and insides, looking for ground. Shocked (ha-ha), the guard yelped out in pain, forced on their backfoot while uselessly seeking a way to relieve the agonizing heat. They collapsed on their back across the room, smoke rising from their chest as they struggled to regulate their breath.

“Not fun, is it?” The Jedi gloated, shaking her head in her assailant’s direction. Not too long ago, they’d shocked her to a state of unconsciousness. This was just balancing the scales.

Baffled, the singed guard just gasped out a response while their eyes fluttered, trying to maintain consciousness. In the moment of temporary glory, Loske applied pressure just above her wrist, as if it would help stabilize the broken bone barely contained beneath her flesh.

It provided a brief instant to let her flick her eyes around her surroundings for the first time. She’d been unconscious on arrival. Their immediate surroundings were countless steam pipes and enormous chemical tanks of varying shapes. It was a crude facility -- but it was outfitted for expediting the process of exporting goods. Dead or alive. She still had no concept of relativity to the rest of the compound, but she suspected it was fairly concealed given the slow inpour of reinforcements to the escaped ruckus.

A snarling voice captured her attention next, and she flexed reactively to some sort of defensive stance; wincing at the shockwave of rolling hurt.

"Ssssooo close."
"Chakaaryc."

"A Mandalorian? So far? I thought the Sith wiped you out. No matter my-"

"I ch-challenge you to a duel, on your Jagganath. To the death."

"Grrh, I accept soft-skin. I will wear your head as a prize!"

Mando’a was one of the last things she had expected to hear. A timeline ago she might not have recognized it’s inflection, but she’d been studying recently.

While Ruus showed his cultural gumption, the rest of the prisoners made short work of the opportunity presented with their hands freed, and the previously sealed door lifted. The collection of survivors from the first wave of assault were now freed and struggling to make that escape count. The ratio of bad to good guys was becoming unfavourable. Some were in an equal tango, wrestling to protect or take weapons or engaged in hand-to-hand tussles.

One of the combat-trained judicials triumphed over their squabble: “We’ve got to get out of here.”

“I think I saw a comms tower on our way in, we should get there, access the logs or send a distres sig--AH!” Another added, before they were interrupted by a blaster bolt through their hip, then oblique.

Meanwhile, someone yanked Ruus back by the collar, to hide behind the crate he’d been on top of with the corpse of the Trandoshian. “You’re gonna need a medic.” His fellow officer observed, handing him one of the weapons they’d liberated from the guards. He made a face, frown lines pulling at his cheeks when looking at the Mandalorian’s bloodied palms. “And gloves.”

The sound of rushed footsteps grew louder, communications had gone out throughout the trinity of gangs that their central source of shared income was threatening to vanish. It was a unifying cause to get their attention and down into the secluded prison-like area.

A purposeful streamline of armoured, imposing muscle would pass through the valley of the complex, visible to anybody snooping around, and set with a trajectory to the containment room. The sentry not only gave them access, but joined them. Abandoning their post.

Between the pain, drugs, and frenzied activity in the room, Loske was having a more difficult time than usual centering herself for combat. In the recesses of her mind, she felt a note of appreciation for Ryv’s stubbornness to not equip himself with a prosthetic. He’d lost his arm. By comparison, she'd only shattered hers and it was turning out to be pretty detrimental in the hours of need.

Arriving backup meant the number of barrels pointed in their direction far outweighed the number the judicials had liberated. Awareness crept into their psyches, and slowly those visible rose to stand, lifting their hands up in surrender. Their expressions were heavy for having to do the gesture again in a matter of hours.

The judicial next to Ruus remained crouched and concealed, urging the bloody Mando to also remain as a shadow, pressing a finger to his lips to advocate silence.

Time melted. Muscles became agonizingly painful and sluggish. The drugs kicked in again. How it happened probably didn’t matter. There was no multiverse where she’d be able to review the scene and improve next time. There’d never be a chance to replicate where she could tweak the choreography. That was a personal promise. The role of damsel in distress didn’t fit nicely. It was too tight, it gripped at her throat in horrid realization. Like a beacon to her ethereal tether, she focused on sending a concentrated pulse of urgency. The handicap of the drugs in her bloodstream, slowing all of her responses down, meant she couldn’t feel him with the usual strength, but she hoped he could feel her. It was only the irrefutable trust that Maynard would be part of that second wave, the instant any news reached The Alliance of the first failure, that gave her that hope.

Weapons dropped, and uniformed bodies of local authorities and judicials, and one jedi, followed gestures with slumped shoulders.

“Yer all movin' too much.” The leader of the reinforcements announced forebodingly, his broad shoulders quivering with barely constrained delight. “Strugglin’ less’ll increases yer chances of survival.” He chuckled darkly, a deep, rumbling and bass rich sound. He lifted his hand, and the binds snapped around her arms and legs tightly to the hydraulic slab. A Force user. Others found themselves in a similar situation –– those who’d been in a central focus when the auxiliaries arrived. Instantly, fiery liquid began to pour down into the individual blocks in a cascading shower of fluid and sparks.

Meanwhile, as the molten poured, the reinforcements were called elsewhere in the facility –– rowdiness from unidentified intruders demanding their immediate attention. Only leaving a small handful to manage the freshly carbonite constrained prisoners.

“Don’t worry, high quality alloy. The real good stuff. You just gotta worry about survivin’ the freezin’ process.” Was the last thing she heard.

When the liquid finally solidified, the figures which were cooling rapidly, had a recognizable human shape, but was surprisingly featureless and rocky like an unfinished sculpture.

 

[Arash Garshasp]

Arash Garshasp, Stellar Centurion
Location: City Underworld
Objective Three: UT IN PLATEAS

Spoiler: Equipment

VDS-02 “Bulwark” - Pattern Military Mobility Shield
VCS-01 “Aspis” Pattern Combat Shield
VW-03 Mk II “Apollo” - Pattern Solarized Disruptor Pistol
TTH/TPV-001 “Xiphos” - Pattern Plasmatic Vibrosword
VCP-01 "Hoplon" - Pattern Combat Powersuit

Careful with each step, the walk back to the star port was rather a lengthy one but Arash wanted a chance to stretch his legs before being stuffed back inside his ship. While he’d admit he won’t be getting much in the way of “fresh air” where he was, he’d at least get a chance to move freely and without worry of breaking something important on his vessel.

From crowded streets to secluded alleys, Arash continued blazing a trail for himself, though when he had turned a corner from a back alley he quickly pressed himself against the wall. Blaster fire streaked overhead and shouts continued to both increase, Arash for his part quietly moved to better cover. His HUD showed up several energy sources and this enforced what he saw with his own eyes.

Several humans were peeking their heads out from different buildings, some inside and others outside, and all were taking shots at the opposite side. The returning fire came from another group of humans, and Arash figured this gang war was not something he should take part of, in fact he knew he should leave before being seen. His hands rested on his pistol before taking a few cautious steps back, as the blaster fire and shouts grew more distant he turned around and quickly found a different detour.

This was not what I wanted to stretch my legs. A firefight was all in good fun, but with the number of opponents and unknown reasons for the fight, Arash knew better than to involve himself with the looming threat of Law Enforcement. Or just Alliance Patrols that are assisting the Police here. He could have probably explained away his involvement with the Alliance Patrol as his contract included helping to clean out general riff raff, but that meant more data-slate work that Arash wanted to avoid.

Arash finally made his way back to the star port, his ship waiting for him to take him back to orbit. His plan to get some more excitement on this planet was rather moot, in fact the urge alone seemed to have disappeared. With a rather despondent sigh Arash figured he could find some fun back home, since it seemed the Alliance had been heading towards more peaceful terms with their planets.

And now I hear rumors of these Licenses for bounty hunting. . . Arash eyed the time on his HUD and guessed when he’d get back home in a few days. Perhaps on the way back he could ask his Alliance contacts for more information on this licenses thing.
​

 

[Greeble the Hutt]

Objective 1 — VITA EST IUDICIUM

Planet Coruscant
Federal District
Grand Convocation Chamber

Greeble the Hutt had looked over the bounty hunter licensing proposal and huffed. They listened to the arguments made by the other senators and found themselves agreeing Senator Adhira Chandra and Senator Carolina Tevinter, however, Greeble found the subject tedious and demoralizing, and realized they had roughed up the tip of their tail without noticing from rubbing it roughly against the ground in irritation.

"I'm disappointed for this reminder of the unchecked brutality within the Galactic Alliance. While I do not condone many of these practices, bounty hunting is at the moment an inevitable fact and I intend to vote based on the facts despite my unease. I am deeply grateful to all who make efforts to bring justice in the galaxy, even if at times it must be done in unsatisfactory portions. I, Greeble the Hutt, representing Vulpter, resentfully vote yes on this proposal, in hopes it is merely a step that must be taken in order to move towards our goals of a more just system."

 

[Ce-Pas-Ton]

Objective: 1 - VITA EST IUDICIUM

Planet Coruscant
Federal District
Grand Convocation Chamber

He had mulled over the details of the proposed certificate a few times, each time making a more noticeable grumble than the last. Finally, he aide leaned forth with an almost concerned "Senator?" Angling his head uncomfortably to the side, Ce-Pas-Ton looked over to the young Ithorian. "It's just this bill. Here, have a look" he said, handing over his datapad to the aide.

Keeping his relaxed posture, comfortably leaned back in his chair, the Senator from Tython listened to the other Senators speak and make their case. This was not an issue which he felt particularly strongly about and normally he would be perfectly fine with touting the party line. It seemed like his aide was of a similar mind "What's wrong with it, Ce-Pas-Ton?" A long sigh escaped the veteran "It isn't balanced. Look at it. The idea of regulating an undesired profession is that it will make unruly people behave, right?" "Right" "This bill does that - but there are no mechanisms for enforcement. The holders of this license will enjoy laxed judicial oversight when they are hunting. This bill makes it harder to actually enforce the rules. This goes both for the ones implemented for license holders and the preextisting norms which we struggle to uphold as it is. Without a control mechanism, we are just making the lives of these criminals easier"

The Ithorian aide didn't challenge him on his rant. Perhaps it would happen once they had the chance to read through the bill a few more times. "So, what will you do, Senator?" The Cerean shrugged "It looks like the bill is passing. We won't make any enemies by abstaining from this vote." The Senator from Tython did not mind touting the party line from time to time. It was important as a member of a group of politicians who wanted to get things done. But the vote already seemed decided, and so, he felt free to take liberties.

"But aren't you going to make the case for why the bill is flawed?" Ce-Pas-Ton calmly shook his head "Our colleagues are smart people. I am sure they have taken many factors into consideration already. Contact the staff of our friends, let them know of our concerns. That shall suffice this time." The Ithorian nodded "Yes, Senator"

 

[Auteme]

Aerarii Tithe Saga of Valour ​

Auteme raised an eyebrow. She'd thought Agent Courte would've known more about the high-level public officials of the Sith Empire; then again, it was probably more difficult than just using a VPN and looking up who the local Moff was. Still, the effect of her words surprised her.

Should she regret exposing a lie when it may come at a great expense to the liar? Aearii's half-truths were not dangerous in of themselves but they were far from helping anyone. It was a small price to pay for better information or a true pardon. This was good for everyone. Right?

She'd probably fall asleep thinking about it. For now, she just trusted herself.

"Well, as you say, it's a start," she said, nodding to Aerarii. "I believe Agent Courte is looking for more than that, though, so you should stay and help him; I'll go speak to someone about your situation here. After, we can talk about where you'd be best suited to help out and stay safe."

Was she treating him like a child? That was kind of what it felt like.

 

[Rynn Vizsla]

O B J E C T I V E I I

As someone once said, Bounty Hunting was a complicated profession. Many would claim that the complex morass of conflicting moralities or the different rulesets changed from one star system to another. Rynn, on the other hand, knew that the complications arose from tracking down their targets. Some Contractors would only provide the name of their prey and the price of their bounty. It wasn’t enough to go off, especially in a Galaxy populated by trillions of lifeforms with varying - and often similar names. However, the Hunter was expected to track down their targets, all the same, utilizing whatever skills they’ve obtained over a lifetime of pursuing leads and bounty’s alike.

Others would find themselves handed a proverbial wealth of resources. From last known positional data to even archival footage that contained images of the bounty. All of which would be an indescribable boon to the Hunter’s toolkit. Much of the hard work regarding the preliminary investigations were already taken care of before their mission began. With such information in hand, many of the complications that made bounty Hunting such an exciting vocation would’ve been eliminated—easy money, to fresh faces and veterans alike. Sadly, Rynn was bereft of such information and was found wanting more.

Sure, he managed to make a deal with several of the Marshals to gain access to the Ministries Database. But, that did little more than provide him with his target’s looks and minimal details about their… abilities. One was a known Sorcerer, capable of bending one’s perceptions of reality to their whim. The other was… reportedly a skilled Warrior, fueled by the mysticism of the Force. However, the Alliance had little information on him aside from that. He was, in many respects, an unknown variable within the Federation’s eye. Both of these individuals would more than make up for the hunt’s tedium if they could ever be found.

When reflecting on this contracted assignment, Rynn would mention that he was less than pleased to play a children’s game in a city that was besieged.

However, just as his frustrations began to reach the tipping point, the device within his grasp started to pulse. With every step towards one of the nearby habitation blocks, the flickering light quickened. That meant one or both of his targets were in the vicinity. While the damned device was pretty much useless at a distance, there was at least a redeemable quality when used on nearby targets. The data emitted by the tracking fob began flashing across his visor, using the Mandalorian’s HUD to triangulate their combined quarry. Sure, now the damned thing decided it would work, Rynn mused.

As the data spilled across his visor, the Mandalorian stowed the tracking fob on his belt - only to unsling his rifle soon after. When the all-too-familiar weapon slid into his hands, Rynn unconsciously went through the motions of a weapons check. With a skilled and practiced hand, the rifle was primed and ready for action in seconds. The plasma cartridge was fully-charged. The specialized tibanna canister was filled to the artificial brim with the irradiated gas. Although the contract was to bring these individuals alive, there was a chance that they wouldn’t go down without a fight.
Sure, he could just tag them with his weapon’s non-lethal setting, but where would be the fun in that? They made him do all this work, with too few resources. He needed to take his frustration out on something, and woe betide the fools that got in his way.

That was when his visor pinged something down the street ahead, moving away from him. While his sensors couldn’t pick anything up in the visual ranges - his suit’s systems were fairly confident that something was there. What was strange about this runic ping was that every conceivable vision filter integrated into his visor wasn’t picking up anything. It wasn’t a stealth field generator, that much was certain. The Force, then? He couldn’t be sure. However, it wouldn’t be more than a waste of his weapon’s power to utilize its secondary function. Within seconds, Rynn shouldered his rifle and thumbed the small PEP attachment near the forefront of his weapon.

A sudden burst of sound and light erupted from the secondary attachment, whether it stuck something or showcased the fault in the connection between the proffered tracking fob and suit systems.

| Maijan Paisea | Viribus |​

 

[Lok Xiangu]

Objective: BYOO

“I can’t believe we’re being made to capture people without scratching them,” a Rodian, named Ulsaxi, said to Lok.

“Not people, criminals, in which we can have them work for our cause,” the human mercenary replied back to his alien counterpart, with a unit of other mercenaries following their lead. “Besides we’re getting paid more for this, and provided with equipment that’ll keep us alive. Just don’t be an idiot with it.”

“It’s not scum that I’m worried about, Lok, it’s the Alliance. They’ve got their agents around these parts with all the crime going on. What if we run into them? We ain’t licensed to operate here, they’ll lock us up like criminals.”

“I mean...we kinda are, I’m sure I’ve got a price on my head in a world or two,” and have a shrug at the end.

“I’m damn serious, Lok, it’s not a game.”

“Relax, shit. Nobody told you the life of a mercenary gave you any guarantees. If you were gonna be yappy, should’ve stayed at the base. The boss said to take as much as we can, and get out. I’ve got reports the Alliance are focused in an area far from here; if we do find one in our way, just shoot them dead.”

Silence fell after that. Finally got the Rodian to shut up. He wasn’t wrong to be concerned in the environment they were working in. It was all out war between gangs, peace officers, and now the Alliance. A triple threat. And what about Lok and his band of mercenaries? His boss took this as an opportunity to acquire more recruits for their company, recruits in the form of thugs and gangsters. Just that they had to be alive and not critically injured which explained for the tools and weaponry given to them.

The only problem out of this would be how to transport their targets back to the shuttle.

“Also, we’ll have to jack a landspeeder or something to transport stuff.”

 

[Maijan Paisea]

OBJECTIVE II // PLEXIS // ON THE MOVE
INTERACTION: Viribus // O P E N
ENGAGING: Rynn Vizsla

​

---

Slinking to the transport they'd coordinated earlier, Maijan's carelessness got the better of her. Lazily, she lifted her wrist to her mouth and glanced about while strolling toward the docking area. <Forget the Jedi. I've got our payment. Let's get out of here.>

The Ryll swimming in her bloodstream stalled her reactions. What should have been a dodge and a roll only manifested as a slow head turn to the side, following the trajectory of a loud projectile heading in her direction. She darted forward, adrenaline surging and overpowering the inebriant. Didn't matter though, it managed to hit her square in the chest.

Maijan was forced several feet backward, skidding across the ground and knocking her heels over her head. Desperation was the only thing she could feel, and it flooded her head right to her toes. A numbing sensation spread through her fingers and she frantically scrambled to right herself. Black kaleidoscopic clouds blossomed behind her eyes, her senses overwhelmed by the combination of the bruising impact, ear-shattering shockwave, and blinding luminescence.

<I've got company. Need your help muscles! We gotta go!> Her voice was thick with alarm through the comms, slurred a bit. At the same time, she struggled with the device on her wrist that would ping her location to her partner...wherever he was.

Dark eyes snapped up, gold highlighting the outline of her irises in fearful reaction. A Mandalorian's silhouette became obvious, and thunder clapped behind her breastbone, trepidation gripping her lungs and squeezing the air from them. Sharp, scared gasps filled her cheeks and she staggered backward, wrapping herself in The White Current once more. Here, her eyes glowed goldenly. Activating the current's vision on her behalf. Beneath the armour was nothing more than flesh and blood, and their impression on The Force was no more than a civilian. She concentrated on making her breaths smaller, more silent, and reducing the impact of her presence to conceal anything physically visible about her.

If gold wasn't marbled and interwoven with her dark complexion, the round that had hit her bosom would have bruised by now. Perhaps even fractured the skin. Gratefully, her respiratory system was only affected by her state of mind. Which she sought to compartmentalize.

With ears still ringing, and dependent on seeing only with The Current, she continued on the backfoot, as if she could go the long way around. Hurry up Viribus! She thought angrily as if the intensity of her mind might draw him into the fray.

​

 

[Viribus]

Objective: Two
Tags: Maijan Paisea | Rynn Vizsla

Was that...was that a pun? He couldn’t help but groan, a bit of anger flowing through him. He hated puns, he had gone through enough of them in regards about his horns. The classic pun any Zabrak encountered was:

Someone is horny
​

Enough to tell someone to fuck off. If he had a credit for every one of those puns, he’d probably be sitting on a pile of gold. He’s probably maimed one or two, maybe more souls in his path for those outdated jokes. Hearing that pun almost made him NOT want to heed Maijan’s words. Karma for the pun, he supposed.

In the end, he sighed and made his way to the Spectre’s location.

“Hopefully I get a bonus for saving a damsel in distress,” her fault she couldn't land a punch, not his. Although there was concern in her tone of voice, the yell. Something had gotten her. He ran, following the ping ping on his device, a way of communicating each other’s location.

“Get to the ship! Don’t engage!” that was his job after all as he reached out to Maijan via comms. Was it a Marshal? A Jedi? One of these street rats? Didn’t matter, it was best for the mystic sorceress to run away and create illusions to optimize her escape before he could reach up to her. Which he was, just putting some distance where she couldn’t see him. He wanted to see where their assailant was, and engage him in close quarters.

Where are you?