Private &nbsp; Shard Hunting

Gear: Aquilia-Boreal Cry, Slicing Glove, K-22 body armor, CRP-01 Revolver, Wrist Mounted Weapons (Hekler'Kok WMMW-01), DS-102 "Aegis" Personal Energy Shield

Alana, seated in the dimly lit corner of a nondescript cantina, felt the thrum of the bass echo through her bones, distant yet unnervingly familiar. The message had come through her comm just hours ago, the sleek holographic figure of Parvati starting at her from the display.

The message had sparked something in Alana—something darker than mere curiosity. She had felt the pull of the offer, the weight of Parvati's invitation sinking into her chest like a slow poison. It wasn't about money. It never was anymore. She just needed something to do, since all her other options seemed to have collapsed.

Alana couldn't help but wonder what exactly Parvati had in mind, and why she'd extended the invitation to her. It was too... coincidental?

Another trap.

But unlike the others she had evaded in her life, this one felt different. The sensation of the pulse beneath her skin grew sharper. Parvati wanted something, and Alana could feel it. And deep down, buried beneath the layers of training, of cold calculations, Alana's hands tightened into fists, her jaw clenched.

She wasn't afraid, not of Parvati, not of her games. If there was one thing she had learned in her time fighting, surviving, and breaking free from the clutches of those who sought to control her, it was this: never let them control the game. You played your own.

Alana's gaze darkened. Her thoughts swirled in a vortex of urgency and cold resolve. A part of her craved the confrontation. The chance to get closer to this Parvati. To learn what made her tick, what drove her to pull people like Alana into her web.

Another part of her, the one that longed to just disappear into the shadows again, screamed against it, warned her of the danger of walking into the lion's den.

But Alana had never been the type to back down from a challenge, and Parvati's name was now on her list—one way or another. She would find out exactly what the House of Parvati wanted, and then... then she'd take everything it had to offer.

With a barely perceptible nod to herself, Alana stood, straightening her clothes, her mind had already calculating the best route to this club.

Tibera Jessen · Wednesday at 10:28 AM

Nar Shadda, a place Tibera always seemed to be drawn back to. Ever since she went back to freelancing, she had made the Smuggler's Moon a common port of call. The massive woman had been drawn to the neon watering hole owned by House Parvati like a moth to a flame. Even if it wasn't part of a job, she probably would frequent such a place just to dance like a drunken Bantha. They had a good selection of drinks, and pretty people were wall to wall every night, hell even the droids were pretty in this place!

Speaking of those pretty droids, Tibera had a particularly shiny chrome one sitting in her booth as she sipped some strange blue colored wine. Normally Tibera found the unblinking gaze of droids to be a little disquieting, but adding feminine curves to the equation did a lot to smooth things out. As she sat in the booth, her body clad in a white suit of armor. This only added to the bulk of the large woman's body, making her an even more imposing figure.

"Can I get you anything else big girl? Another glass of wine, maybe something a bit... stronger?" Came the voice of the droid sitting with Tibera, its warm hand touching her exposed hands. These droids were damn good, able to have an almost sixth sense about how touch starved the mercenary was. Even though it was the touch of a warm metal hand, it did wonders to ease the merc's nerves.

"I'm good on drinks right now sweetness, though maybe once I'm done with your boss, we can talk about other functions," Tibera said, looking up to the exposed silhouette of Parvati. "I don't wanna keep the boss lady waiting too long. Even if it I do have the option of testing out one of her droids..."

The mercenary gave a grin before downing the rest of her wine, no time to sip and sup while being watched by her new employer. Tibera stood tall before striding up towards the private suite the mistress of the club had for herself. It was a hell of a place, where she could watch the peons indulge. She wondered if she'd been watched, if the droid the bar provided was something to keep the hulking woman in view. Maybe it was some kind of intelligence gathering ploy, whatever it was, this was proving to be an interesting night already!

Parvati · Wednesday at 7:25 PM

A long, elegant finger—tipped with a stiletto nail—glided to Parvati's ear, triggering a single press on the side of her earpiece. Instantly, vital updates from her trusted staff came through. Only a select few had access to her direct line; she was insistent on this protocol, knowing all too well that her staff, like unruly children, sometimes couldn't resist tattling. Problems that didn't require her intervention were left to be solved by someone else. This particular update, however, demanded her attention.

The mistress had meticulously positioned her droid workforce throughout her bars and cantinas across the House of Parvati's vast domain. Not only did this streamline labor costs, but it also ensured that secrets flowed more freely—people were far more inclined to divulge their underhanded dealings to a droid than a human.

"Thank you, and remember, the Echani will not be too far behind." she murmured, her voice soft yet icy. Ever the consummate businesswoman, Parvati turned to her security droids. "Sable I and Sable II, prepare for our first guest."

Her tall heels clicked authoritatively against the floor as she moved toward the door leading to her private suite. Every step was measured, resonating over the blaring bass leaking into her sanctum. Ascending to a secluded chair overlooking the room, she made her presence known—a silent declaration of her untouchable status.

Crossing her legs, the tight leather bodysuit creaked softly, accentuating the controlled poise of her form. With a graceful lift, she brought her whiskey to her lips and allowed a sly smile to play on her features, waiting for the precise moment. Soon enough, Tibera would be ushered into the VIP section by security, forewarned of her arrival, though the guest might never immediately discern which suite belonged to Parvati. Only as she passed by would the durasteel doors slide open with a soft hiss, revealing a space cloaked in muted lights and shadows—except for the subtle glow spilling in from the hallway, outlining the imposing silhouette of the crime lord seated atop her throne, his devilish grin reflecting the soft purple luminescence.

"Come in," she cooed, her voice melodic yet commanding. "I've been waiting."

Alana Calloway · Wednesday at 7:40 PM

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Shard Hunters

Tag:

Gear: Aquilia-Boreal Cry, Slicing Glove, K-22 body armor, CRP-01 Revolver, Wrist Mounted Weapons (Hekler'Kok WMMW-01), DS-102 "Aegis" Personal Energy Shield

Alana stepped forward, her boots making barely a sound against the polished floor. Every muscle in her body was tight, coiled, but she forced herself to move with the same deliberate ease she always did. Never let them see you hesitate. Never let them smell blood in the water.

The lights were low, the air thick with the mingling scents of expensive liquor and burning spice, but all of it faded into the background noise of her mind. Her focus narrowed to the here and now. The steady hum of the bass beneath her feet. The quiet hiss of the door closing behind her. She looked a bit lost for a bit, hoping that someone might come and usher her along.

Still, her voice was steady when she finally spoke. "Hope I’m not running late." A dry, guarded statement.

Her throat felt tight, her body still worn raw from what had come before. The pain was a distant throb now, dulled by time and sheer force of will. But inside, there was something else.

A hollow space.

She didn't know if it was grief, rage, or something else entirely. All she knew was that it was there, a void carved out by too many hands, too many memories, too much she couldn't quite name.

And now, she was here. Standing in the den of another predator. Wondering if this was just another cage she was about to step into.

Or just an elevator, and elevator seemed more likely. The sooner she could meet with the contact the better.

Tibera Jessen · Thursday at 8:08 PM

Entering the private area of the club came with a certain feeling of affluence, seeing a place most weren't able to. Even with the sizeable amount of credits that Tibera had amassed, she wasn't anywhere near the level of Parvati. Just one look at the empire she'd managed to build would say they were separated by an order of magnitude. If anything it was a little intimidating, witnessing a woman with such power at her fingertips.

Putting such idle thoughts aside, the mercenary walked up to Parvati, giving a grin and a salute to the lady. Getting a better look at her, she was a bad looker in person. No need for fancy holofilters needed here, though something felt a bit off about her new boss. Something about the tall, thin lady made her blood run cold, it was like looking into the eyes of a viper.

"Tibera Jessen, at your service. Miss Parvati I presume? Gotta say, you run one hell of an operation here..." The young mercenary felt a bit awkward speaking to the woman. It wasn't like dealing with Imperials. There was no expectation of military structure here. It was all under the table, and there was only one person to answer to here. One who didn't seem very forgiving...

That was a thought, a woman that made the Imperial field commanders look like puppy dogs by comparison.

The Merc stood there a moment, before being looked at by the Sable units. Guess it was her time to sit... Tibera took her place in the booth, quietly leaning forward as her bulky armor made it a task to get comfortable. In hindsight it would have probably been better to wear anything else to meet such an influential and formal woman.

"I got your message and headed right over as soon as I could. If you don't mind me asking, just what is it you have planned? Normally I try not to ask too many questions when working in the underground, but this job has me a little nervous..."

There was little chance a line of questioning like that would bear much fruit, but it was worth a shot at least. This was an underworld job, which often meant shadows and secrets abound. Even if Tibera got an answer out of Parvati, there's no telling how deeply it'd be steeped in half-truths and misdirection. Just so long as the credits flowed in on time, that was all that was needed. Such was the life Tibera had chosen.

Parvati · Thursday at 8:47 PM

Deep brown irises tracked the mercenary's approach—Tibera, as calculated as ever. Parvati never let anyone into her inner sanctum without careful study; she was always reading her guests, looking for vulnerabilities to exploit if necessary. Tibera, though skilled, revealed little beyond the obvious, a fact that both intrigued and made the madame cautious. Still, she reclined with serene confidence, secure in the knowledge that her droids would neutralize any threat before it became dangerous—and that a hidden blade in her heel could finish off anyone who dared come too close.

"I know who you are," she snapped, drawing her glass to her lips. In her domain, surprise was for amateurs. A sly smile curved her lips as she continued, "I don't let just any dashing mercenary into my room." With deliberate elegance, she signaled the Sable droids beside Tibera, and one promptly poured her a crystal glass filled with some of the finest whiskey in the galaxy. Their same needle-fingered appendages—usually reserved for swift, precise kills—served to remind Tibera of the droid's capabilities. "No matter what you've heard about me,"

"Don't worry, that one isn't poisoned." she added before rising gracefully. As she ascended, her heeled boots clicked on the durasteel stairs, her figure towering imperiously over Tibera. Though only an inch taller face-to-face, from atop her elevated perch she looked down as if surveying her realm. Parvati mused on Tibera's bold inquiry—a move that might have been seen as disrespectful, but in her world was simply the art of sizing someone up.

"I am excited you asked—" she began, when suddenly her inner-ear piece buzzed with news. Her eyes narrowed; the missing piece of the puzzle had arrived. "Guide her here," she ordered, tapping her earpiece. "Let's wait until the last of us arrives, then I will answer all of your questions."

_______

Down below, a gorgeous Twi'Lek in a soft satin dress, every curve accentuated by the fabric, rose from the bar. It was her job to be seen, and she did so with an almost defiant grace. For Parvati, the Twi'Lek was a deliberate lure—bait for Alana, the final breadcrumb to lead the hunters to her domain. As the Twi'Lek moved toward the VIP entrance, ascending the stairs into the shadowed corridor, she never glanced back. If Alana chose not to follow, the clue would vanish into the neon haze, leaving only Parvati's carefully crafted enigma behind.

Alana Calloway · Friday at 1:22 AM

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Shard Hunters

Tag:

Gear: Aquilia-Boreal Cry, Slicing Glove, K-22 body armor, CRP-01 Revolver, Wrist Mounted Weapons (Hekler'Kok WMMW-01), DS-102 "Aegis" Personal Energy Shield

Alana's gaze lingered on the Twi'lek for only a moment before she made her choice.

There was always a choice—turn back, let the mystery remain unsolved, walk away from whatever web Parvati was spinning. But that wasn't how Alana worked.

With a quiet exhale, she adjusted her hat, letting the brim cast a shadow over her red eyes. Then, without a word, she stepped forward, following the Twi'lek into the shadowed corridor.

The neon hum of the club faded behind her, swallowed by the quiet hush of the VIP entrance. She knew a setup when she saw one, but she wasn't worried. This didn’t feel like one, exactly.

Alana moved through the corridor like a shadow, boots clicking softly against the durasteel floor. The Twi'lek led her into a dimly lit room where the scent of expensive whiskey and polished metal lingered in the air. Her sharp gaze swept the space, taking in the Sable droids, the high vantage point Parvati had taken, and the presence of another figure—Tibera.

Two powerful women, that she was fairly sure were both watching her, measuring her.

She took her time, stepping forward with a lazy confidence, hands tucked into the pockets of her jacket. Her red eyes flicked between them, settling first on Parvati.

"You know who I am, I’m pretty sure," She said, her voice even, edged with something unreadable. Then her gaze slid to Tibera, sizing her up in turn before she inclined her head slightly. "But for the sake of good manners—Alana Calloway. Mercenary, tracker, problem-solver, and a few other choice words; depending on the price."

She exhaled through her nose, shifting her stance. "So uhhh, thanks for having me."

Tibera Jessen · 2025-02-23T19:16:14-0500

"Thanks for the drink, I appreciate you leaving the poison out this time..." With that Tibera began to sip her drink, awaiting the next mercenary to arrive. It wouldn't be long, so all Tib had to do was sit back and enjoy Parvati's icy company. All that really required was not putting her big durasteel-plated foot in her mouth. Which was a bigger ask than it sounded for sure.

"You've got a great blend going on with this whiskey. Smooth, but high proof. I get notes of oak and maybe... spices? Little bit of cherry on the finish."

Probably better to use all that snobbery about alcohol for something. Really she was just doing her best to chisel away at the lady's gruff exterior, moreso she was probing. Trying to get a feel for her new boss. Maybe there was more to this killer lady than meets the eye? Hell, it wouldn't be the first time that Tibera made mountains out of molehills.

As the other merc was guided into the VIP room, it became clear that Parvati must have had some pretty big expectations for the two of them. Hiring just two mercs to do any job put a lot of confidence in whoever you were hiring. Most employers liked bigger squads, in an attempt to throw as many bodies at the problem as possible. That was certainly the modus operandi of the average contract. Which probably meant that Parvati was not the average client, also meaning this wasn't the average job.

"Good to meet you Alana." Tibera said, saluting the other lady with just two fingers on her brow. She chuckled a bit, loosened up by the high proof alcohol she'd been given free reign of. "If you're the problem solver, then that must mean I'll have to give you plenty of them to solve right?"

Jokes like that were why Tibs was here in the VIP room holding a blaster, and not standing on a stage somewhere doing stand-up routines...