Dominion The Abyss (OPA Dominion of Tibrin)

[Fulcrum]

The hydrostatic field tingled against Agent Deacon's skin. Life on Tibrin were fully integrated with the island world's massive coral reefs. Most undercities were wretched hives but for the native Ishi Tib everything was inverted. The depths of each city was where true paradise could be found. Their economic castes were dispersed accordingly with the poorest eking out a living in coral skyrises high above Tibrin's ocean waves. The fulcrum agent tipped his bongo driver a few extra talons before stepping out into one of the weirdest city squares he'd ever seen in his life.

"After you, my fair lady."

He flashed an aurodium tooth grin and straightened his tux before opening the submersible door for a bedazzled Peyton Steele. Despite cleaning up better than a semi-reformed pirate had any right to Deacon was still playing the role of Red Blade even among his 'friends'. He couldn't help but wonder if Servant was planetside, and if so what disguise the machine had chosen for this occasion. A member of the club's staff perhaps? Or had Deacon just unwittingly tossed a pile of aurodium coins into its lap, mistaking the freelance operative for a simple pilot droid?

A wall of sound crashed into them as soon as they stepped inside and Peyton was nearly blinded by all the strobe lights.

"You were expecting something more refined?" he asked her, clearly relishing the confusion, "I just wanted to wear a tux. This is supposed to be the best rave on Tibrin!"

Deacon swaggered over to the bar. He was just about to order them both a drink when a rough hand yanked him back around.

"Agent Desmond Darksword?" three words from the security guard shattered any reply forming in his head, "These two are both Strategic Information Service. You're under arrest."

// ACCESSING UNDERGROUND SHADOWNET //
// UPLINK ESTABLISHED //
SHADOW WAR - The Coalition is welcome on Tibrin, or so it seems. Invitations to the city's hottest underwater rave are the first step in a nefarious criminal Shadow Collective's plot to target and eliminate anyone with Underground connections. This party is about to get deadly...even for those freelancers and innocent bystanders caught in the crossfire.
THE MALTESE CORAL - Tibrin is known for its breathtakingly massive coral reefs which stretch high into the planet's atmosphere. It is also rumored to have unique properties which has attracted the attention of Yuuzhan'tar. Praetorite Vong operatives have been sighted in the upper city so the Underground has posted a dead or alive Vong bounty and is looking for expert types to figure out just what about this coral is so damn special.
STRANGER THINGS - Underground agents lost contact with a Partisan fireteam dispatched to investigate an uncharted rogue comet drifting just outside the Tibrin system. With no other resources in this sector Coalition representatives have authorized the use of mercenaries for a search and rescue mission. Something is alive down here. And it's still hungry.
BYOO - Bring Your Own Objective!

 

[Caedyn Arenais]

Objective: Stranger Things.
Location: Tibrin, Space.
Inventory: Spacer Attire, CS.38 & Lightsaber.

​

According to the Underground, some sort of research or exploration unit had lost contact with Coalition Command whilst tracking a comet in Tibrin Space. Word had gone out far and wide that they were open to the use of mercenaries in order to get to the bottom of what had happened to their people, however Caedyn being a Jedi and the person that he was, had responded by volunteering for the job free of charge.

Credits weren't an issue in his life, what with his inheritance through House Arenais and all; He wasn't in it for the pay, but it was the right thing to do for those that were supposedly in need of good people. He had The Repertoire and so he had the means, which was all the incentive he required to set his mind to the task ahead.

The Corvette jumped out of hyperspace and into the vast blanketed space of Tibrin, as easily as following the coordinate on the navi-charts. No Imperial Blockade this time, no pesky space pirates or any such irritations, just the monotone chatter of his co-pilot Lexas setting himself to work on tracking any sign of the Comets trajectory.

"Picking up some ambiance on sensors, Master Caedyn. I believe our target passed through these coordinates" The droid informed the young Jedi Knight, leading Caedyn to pull his attention from the view-port and over to the display that Lexus was taking his findings from. "Looks like something alright.." Caedyn remarked, "It's left quite a trail behind it. Must be a decent size...-Track those readings and have us pursue course".

 

[Tiland Kortun]

A rave? Tiland looked at the invitation again and frowned, scratching his beard. It was nice enough paper and the handwriting was decent. But what was a rave? They didn’t specify on the invite. Was it a race that they misspelled? Or was it somehow related to ravens? He couldn’t think of a reason why he would get an invite to either, but it would be quite rude to decline.
Tiland had been many things in his life, but rude had never been one of them.

Needless to say, he was quite surprised when he entered the building listed at the address. The fact that it was a watery world had been a surprise enough, even more that it was so deep underwater.

But the event itself? The old man stepped through the door and felt like he’d been hit by one of Darth Carnifex’s Sith spells again. A solid wall of noise and churning bodies lined the location.

“Oh,” Tiland said, unable to hear his own voice. “A rave is not at all like a raven.”

 

[Arbiter]

When the battered old Dreadhawk detected another incoming drive signature, he felt it too. The machine that sustained him slowly craned its neck upward to track Caedyn Arenais on his perilous descent. Despite the meteor's vacuum conditions the Arbiter lumbered across its surface without a suit or environmental shield. He could not feel the synthskin that covered his visage freeze and crack. Given time it was not difficult to grow more.

ANALYSIS.

Mineral composition data and threat matrices scrawled across his photoreceptors. He switched to thermal vision and the comet came alive with heat blooms. One in particular flared nearby and he knew that must be the crashed U-Wing his ship had detected on approach. The Iron Knight knelt to dig up some earth and let it slip through his fingers. He was not here to rescue any survivors but it was a place to start.

Arbiter almost pressed on when another mind touched his. The machine turned back around and waited. Perhaps this one would prove worthy of the hunt. He carried his combat scattergun slung across a metal shoulder for now. It could be in his hands as fast as a Jedi could draw a blade if this one was...irrational.

 

[Zak Dymo]

Objective: Shadow War
Stuff: Padawan Jet Robes | Beats Headphones | Wristlink | Riptide
Tags: Tiland Kortun Deacon

[ currently spinning ]
​

Yes, Zak was too young to be in this club.

No, he had no idea what an Underground was. It sounded like a terrestrial thing. Underwater was more his speed.

ProTip: The bouncer didn't check the fake ID on the entertainment, so if you wanted to get into the rave underage, you just signed up to be one of the DJs.

Come on. It was an underwater rave. Zak loved both of those things. There was no way that he would miss this. Plus, when he was done with the set, he'd just slip out onto the dance floor so that he'd get to actually enjoy some dancing as well.

A pair of headphones dressed the sides of his head. The young Nautolan was a flurry of motion, bouncing between the equalizers and the turntables. He had the bass boosted and one hand on the drum loops, the other hand was in the air as he swayed from side to side. He couldn't really get into the music while he was putting on a set, which was frustrating, but it was also a lot to concentrate on when spinning.

He could feel the beat reverberating through his body. His head-tails were whipping back and forth as his head bobbed.

The Force was cool and all, but this was the true power in the galaxy. The dark side of rock. The power of a synth lord!

If there was something going on at the bar or a lost boomer at the door, Zak had no idea. The lights in the club made it impossible to see out over the crowd of ravers that was pressed up near the DJ.

 

[Peyton Steele]

It was definitely a good feeling to be out here in the field again. Her team was doing a number of different operations the past few months and it felt that she hadn’t seen Red Blade in a good number of weeks. She had her Underground duties, of course, so that meant paperwork and rubbing elbows with diplomats from a number of worlds. And coming to Tibrin? That was a Mid-Rim World, but still, it was a gorgeous world, and would help to provide support to Sullust and General Starchaser’s mad idea that the Coalition can hold it. Wearing black and gold, she smiled as Red allowed her to step out first.


Getting to her feet and adjusting her dress, she checked her wrist-top datapad to see if Servant had arrived, and who else was in play here. But that was when it all hit her, the lights, the music, and the bass vibrations. She took a second to compose herself so she didn’t fire daggers out of her eyes at Red Blade. “And you were going to tell me this, when?” She looked at her dress, a bit longer than she was hoping for for, well, a rave.

Still, the blonde followed her comrade to the bar. But that was when she saw someone approach Red Blade. Her hand was moving towards his thigh, where she kept a small hold out. “I’m sorry, who?” She looked at the guards, and then Red Blade.


Servant

Deacon

 

[Jic Drow]

Objective: Maltese Coral
Location: Tibrin
Gear: MedPack, Sidearm, Dive Knife
​

Jic Drow may be a smuggler, he may be part of the Underground, and he may be discharged from the Alliance service, but even with all of those things, what he was, was an Ishi Tib. This was his world, and with the Coalition coming this way? He felt it was only right to donate his time and efforts to assisting with whatever problems they found. The medic-turned-smuggler did not expect the Vong to be poking around his world.

And sure, he wasn’t a scientist, but he knew the reefs, and he knew enough people who could help. Offering his services to one of the Tibrin science teams, as a medic and gunhand, they were actually heading out to the waters. It would be nice to be back home, and get in the water. Taking a transport out towards the reef, and providing any non-Ishi Tibs with the specialized tools, the team was ready, and more important, so was Jic.

As the dropper opened on the skimmer, the Ishi Tib rebel dove in first. He had a location provided by the Underground, and he’d lead the team down to it.

 

[Rosario Perlyn]

Location: Underwater Rave
Role: Innocent Bystander
Theme Music: Astral Projection - Dancing Galaxy

Rosario had been looking forward to this for a long time. She hadn't had the money for a ticket, but if a Zeltron girl couldn't manage to be taken along to a party, who could?

She was in her element here. The small dose of ryll she had taken wasn't even quite working yet, and she was already dissolving in the sea of music and emotions that filled the room. From the dance floor, she randomly caught sight of a human girl standing by the side. She wasn't very pretty, but that didn't matter - what mattered was that she was sad and scared. Rosario stopped dancing, stumbled over to her, and simply hugged her.

The club consisted of two portions, one filled with air and the other under water, separated by a hydrostatic field. Music worked very differently in water and in air, and the Ishi Tib, amphibious as they were, loved to explore it in both mediums. Still in a hug, Rosario's gaze fell over the other girl's shoulder onto the shimmering barrier between the elements. "Look..." she murmured into the girl's ear, fascinated, and turned her around to face the water-filled portion of the club. Behind the hydrostativ field were people, mostly Ishi Tib, but also quite a few other aquatic and amphibic species floating about, radiating their emotions no less intensely than those on this side.

Rosario was gripped by immense curiosity. She approached the barrier and held her hand against it. There was an intense tingling sensation, perhaps augmented by the incipient effects of the spice. She observed that for a moment, then pushed her hand through and pulled it back again. She stared with fascination at her wet fingers.

She was wearing her usual outfit for such occasions: patterned black tights, a black miniskirt with thin stripes in all directions and all colours of the rainbow, and a high-necked black jumper adorned with little spots of a glittering silver material. Now it was turning out that this had been ill-considered.

She went over to the edge of the field and in the corner of the room stripped down to her underwear without any shyness, simply leaving her clothes on the floor. Then she approached the barrier again and, with her arms stretched out wide, slowly stepped through it. She savoured the sensation of the energy barrier itself and of the water on the other side in every place of her body. When the pushed her head through and her ears filled with water, she was suddenly in a whole other world...

Tiland Kortun Zak Dymo Deacon Peyton Steele

 

[Fulcrum]

Deacon gawked at the bouncer.

“I’m sorry, who?”

"I can explain," he said and then turned to deck the guard.

A surge of pain shot through his nervous system. Another member of the club's security outfit had jabbed him from behind with a stun baton. He felt his muscles slacken and he fell back into the brute's meaty arms.

"You gonna come along quiet?" the first bouncer asked Peyton Steele while nursing his jaw, "Or do we have to...make a scene?"

He struggled against his captor but it was no use. Agent Darksword was where no undercover operative wanted to be. Compromised and in custody.

 

[Peyton Steele]

There was way too much going on at the same time. One, it would be something completely different if they had arrested Red Blade as she knew him, Red Blade. But he was going by a name of Darksword? That sounded more like a code name, aside from they used it as his family name. She wasn’t about to go on and ask questions, but since she didn’t grab her sidearm as quickly as she would have liked. Training had her going into a bit of a brawling stance, something simple.

Looking at the guard as Red Blade – Desmond Darksword --- had hit him, the Pirate moved faster than she did. She wasn’t dressed for this. Her bright blue eyes looked over at Red then back to the guard. She put her hands on top of her head, the wrist-datapad, looking similar to a chrono hitting her head, to send a quick signal out to Servant or anyone else who was listening.

“Seems you got the jump on us both.”



Deacon

Servant

 

[Amea Virou]

Peyton Steele // Deacon // Servant // Zak Dymo // Rosario Perlyn​

Something in her gut told her that this wasn’t right. The Underground channels that led straight to her had been silent for years now, but without much forewarning a single message had been sent her way about something that was apparently meant to be urgent. It positively reeked of a trap. She hadn’t been in touch with her other contact in the Underground for years now, hell she doubted they were even active anymore. At least not the ones she had made at the time. Dead came to mind, retired as well. Certainly no-one that would call her to a club, they knew better than that.​

Yet the best way to find out who would set a trap was to trigger it. With a deep breath she took her newly ordered drink and took the designated seat mentioned in the message. The minutes seemed to pass as Amea took her sips of her drink and glanced around at the crowds. The music was terrible, the people looked weird, and more than anything she still remembered the last time she went to a place like this. All in all, these things were loud, cramped, and reeked of all the wrong bodily fluids.​

A minute passed once more, accompanied by a dozen others before Amea shook her head and rose to get out of her seat when someone approached behind her back. A brief electric shock went spiraling through her system that was absorbed before it did any real harm. The thug tried again and Amea simply turned around to face him.​

“Just take me to your leader, okay?” She said with yet another sigh and frustrated groan.​

“Oh-kay.” Replied the slow but quite clearly dejected thug and grabbed her by the shoulder to lead her away.​

Yep. It was definitely a trap then. This would certainly prove… Interesting.​

 

[Servant]

Location: Rave Club
Objective: Shadow War
Sub-Objective: Assist Organic Allies

The machine intelligence had been busy for quite some time observing the pair of familiar organic agents (Peyton Steele)(Deacon). It hadn't been entirely certain of the reason for their arrival at the social gathering, but they had a tendency to provide beneficial results and profits, both of which had been acceptable enough so as to coerce the mechanical mind into following both the piratical captain and his more espionage oriented feminine entourage. There had been some difficulties in guaranteeing that the hosts the artificial mind was utilizing upon the world of Tibrin would be suitable for both air and water navigation, but a series of modifications had guaranteed that they would be water-proofed if nothing else.

Hidden in plain sight within the club scurried a relatively minor droid, diminutive in size, it elicited little response from the general populace of the establishment, though, at the least, most took efforts not to step directly on it. The mouse droid had been an older model, something that the machine mind had managed to locate within a junkyard and return to operational standards. What it lacked in the utility of other host-forms such as the Tanuki and Astromech it often used, it made up for in general stealth; no one suspected that the droid the size of a rodent was capable of possessing the mental capacity that it did, nor of holding a personality, and they would be correct in these pre-judgments. That did not prevent the Intelligence from projecting its own mental faculties into the form of the minute rodent, however, and it maneuvered throughout the facility at the behest of the red-eyed overlord which drove its processors.

From the corners of the room, the Intelligence observed as the organics it was familiar with entered, and promptly were harassed by unknown agents of antagonistic nature. Perhaps the arrival had been a trap of some measure? The Host was propelled forward, drawing nearer so that it might eavesdrop on the conversation to a greater degree. The arrest and detention of allied organics would certainly be in clear opposition to any rewards which would be provided in the future by the well-known allies, and thus the machine mind began to consider methods by which it could ensure the survival of the two. Though its mind was capable of operating at speeds that put organic functions to shame, it also had a sickening lack of creativity at times and relied upon past operations and entertainment media to provide ideas it could work off of and adapt.

Recent media consumption had centered upon the exploits of famous bounty-hunters and mercenaries and had provided the Intelligence with an understanding of greed as a drive for action. This knowledge was promptly adapted to the current situation, and in mere moments, the diminutive mouse droid had sent a wireless signal to a number of easily penetrated devices; civilian devices were often the simplest to infiltrate, and required little in the way of slicing, especially for uploading and displaying simple files.

One such file had been downloaded long ago, kept in the storage of the machine mind upon its first introduction to Red Blade, and this very file was promptly displayed for a substantial portion of the rave's attendants to notice. There, upon a number of personal devices, and even upon the nearest holo-screens which could be reached was the image of the pirate captain, and the subsequent bounty for his capture and detention aboard a nearby vessel. The original file had offered a substantial reward but had included clauses which would be counterproductive, such as the potential death of the pirate, and a reward unlikely to incite the locals to vie against the armed men already prodding at the captain's back... these portions of the document had been swiftly rectified: the reward had been doubled, the elimination clause deleted.

The machine intelligence waited patiently for the patrons of the bar to take notice, to recognize the captain in their midst, and to realize that their opportunities at fortune were finally at hand.

Zak Dymo | Amea Virou | Rosario Perlyn

 

[Loske Treicolt]

Objective II: The Maltese Coral
Allied with: Jic Drow ​

The request had been to understand the complexities and intrigue of the coral. While Loske didn't have an affinity for swimming, coral, science or...generally anything that would have been truly valuable for this expedition, her claim to fame and willingness to assist was rooted with her capacity to read through history with just a touch. And she had a lightsaber now, which could prove useful if vong types got too close.

While the assembled crew's vehicle skimmed over the surface of the waters, they handed out relevant equipment that would assist the folks going...under. She was outfitted with a generic insulation suit, murmuring out a sheepish thanks as more and more of the equipment came together. When she'd read the original bulletin about an upper city, she suspected it would have been more upper than beneath the wave's surface. Now that she was looking down after Jic Drow plunging beneath the waves, and gripping onto the banister while a few others dove in after him, she was having second thoughts about this. She'd never swam like this before.

Oh well. Cowabunga.

 

[Janick Beauchamp]

Objective 2: Maltese Coral
Allies: Loske Treicolt Jic Drow
Enemies: Vong

For as long as she knew about the Vong, Janick knew there was no way to sense them in the Force, nor could she use Memory Rub or Drain Knowledge on them. Yet, as disturbing as it was, she knew that Vong must have their reasons to go for Tibrin Coral. Either they find the Coral beneficial to them on some level, or useful to weaponize, but knowing how they go around building structures, both planetside and in space, I feel that it would render their hulls stronger and/or faster to grow, she thought, before making it into the planet's atmosphere and, with the Vong lurking in the atmosphere, she needs to keep a close watch on her sensors. And even then she would have to collect samples of the Coral to confirm her suspicions: it would be premature to conclude that the Coral was of interest to them for hardware reasons without first determining which property made it so.

 

[Caedyn Arenais]

Objective: Stranger Things.
Location: Tibrin, Space.
Starship: The Repertoire.
Inventory: Spacer Attire, CS.38 & Lightsaber.
Arbiter

​

The Repertoire's thrusters opened up and soon enough it had gained enough distance on the travelling comet to be able to fly in close enough to see the surface of the rock-giant. "Master Caedyn, you don't intend on getting off the ship, do you" Lexus barked the rhetorical question.

"I'll be fine, Lex...-Quit worrying alright?" Caedyn complained in response before trying to distract the droid with some instructions, "We're not the only ones out here, get eyes on that thing and try to track down this crew we're supposed to be looking for, okay?" he said before detaching the safety harness and moving to leave his seat. If he really was going to go for a space walk, he had no intention of having the life sucked out of him along with his innards.

With a droid at the Helm, Caedyn focused on getting changed into the space suit, securing the helmet atop the jumpsuit and listening to the high pitched whine as the air within was vacuum sealed and secured. "Lex, you reading me? How're we doin'?" Caedyn spoke through the intercom, his message coming through to the Corvette's cockpit.

"Due to land any moment now, Master" The droids voice came in overhead, "Though I must warn you, we're in for some turbulence...There's a high level of debris coming off of our target, and...-" the ship rocked mildly, some of the loose debris bouncing off of the shields in their descent; "I believe you may be right, we're not the only one's here".

"Alright, just get us down in one piece...-Hopefully whoever's out there is friendly".

 

[Zak Dymo]

Objective: Shadow War
Stuff: Padawan Jet Robes | Beats Headphones | Wristlink | Riptide
Tags: Tiland Kortun Deacon Servant Amea Virou Peyton Steele Rosario Perlyn

[ currently remixing ]​

The equilizers were jumping.

The pulsating bars were reflected in the abyssal depths of the Nautolan's eyes. Making a few adjustments to the datapad that contained his different musical samples, the boy reached across to a turn table with one hand and used the other to adjust the drum loop as he worked up the remix on the spot.

This was so much easier to him than all that Force stuff. He could feel the music. The music just made sense. There was no vague philosophical musings or answering questions with more questions. The music was the music. It was an answer to itself. It was freedom given a bass drop rather than a voice. It reverberated and echoed, even after the music had stopped.

Because the music never stopped.

The boy reached over to grab a bottle of water. He'd taken his eyes off the gear for maybe a few seconds, but when he looked back, everything was different.

...for one, who was the dude?

And why was there a big credit thing next to his picture?

Setting aside his water bottle, Zak picked up the datapad and played it in his hands, trying to figure how the image got there. And how to get his music application to show up again.

Then he looked up and realized that the screens around the club were all showing the same thing.

"This is super weird," the boy uttered, reaching up and pulling the headphones down around his neck.

 

[Fulcrum]

When Deacon regained his senses both he and Peyton Steele were in stun cuffs. Not ideal.

"Come with us and no one has to get hurt."

A rough hand on his shoulder shoved him forward and he stumbled a few paces. Leaning on Peyton for support, he slipped her an anti-security blade for her restraints before careening back into the bouncer.

"Red Blade!" a wiry looking rodian shouted from across the bar, "Yeah! I thought that was you!"

"He's not the Red Blade," one of the security guards grunted.

"Dank ferrik he's not the Red Blade! I know the kriffin Red Blade!"

"Back off," demanded the burly zabrak gripping Deacon like a vise.

"Or what?"

The rodian flashed a vibroknife. Both bouncers activated their stun batons. Deacon's world erupted into momentary chaos. He slipped his hands free of the cuffs and grabbed Peyton by the wrist.

"Desmond Darksword," he smiled at her and spoke in a voice that was not Red Blade's, "Special Agent. You probably have a lot of questions but we don't have-"

A chair smashed against his back and he was laid out on the club floor nearly crushing a mouse droid ( Servant ) as he fell.

 

[Arbiter]

By the time Caedyn Arenais reached him enough of his synthskin had shattered to reveal the metal exoskeleton underneath. As if a man in spacer's leathers standing alone on a hurtling comet wasn't strange enough. He was silent for a time.

"It has been some time since I have encountered a Jedi," he spoke in a monotone voice completely devoid of inflection, "You are a Jedi."

It didn't matter to the Arbiter either way but everything should be catalogued for tactical analysis. The machine's head tracked slowly back and forth across the landscape, seemingly disinterested in Caedyn's answer to his non-question.

"Crashed ship. Designation: U-Wing," he pointed towards the site of the wreck up ahead, "Cause of malfunction: unknown. Probability of survivors: low."

His head tracked suddenly back to make direct eye contact with the Jedi.

"Why are you here?"

 

[Tiland Kortun]

Tiland stopped where he was walking and rubbed his chin. There were no birds around, nor was there anything he recognized as music. Instead, it was a massive loud and pounding sound in his ears. Was it maybe the ocean? Could the waves be that loud down here? He wasn't sure. He'd never actually spent much time this deep beneath the water. But something was, besides naming this odd event after birds and then not having any birds. There was a ripple of warning and danger in the Force. But he couldn't see any.

Above, the screens changed to an oddly familiar face. He couldn't remember the name of who it was though. He had met many people in the past, but none that he could think of off the top of his head. The pulsing crowd pushed him away towards the edge of the room. The danger was closer now, but not close enough that he could recognize anything about it. A frown etched across his face and he shook his head in exasperation. Maybe it was just a dangerous kind of party? It had been a very long time since he had been to anything like a party, certainly nothing like this anyway.

An electric shock coursed through his body and he twitched, dropping to a knee, and his vision going dark. He had some vague awareness of what was happening, but then he woke up dizzy and disoriented, with the sound of a fight not too far away. He tried to move his hands, but they were restrained in some way and he peered through his beard at what was keeping them there. Stun cuffs? That was a first.

 

[Caedyn Arenais]

Objective: Stranger Things.
Location: Tibrin, Space.
Starship: The Repertoire.
Inventory: Spacer Attire, CS.38 & Lightsaber.
Arbiter

"You are a Jedi".
​

The stranger was rather direct, not to mention perceptive, pegging Caedyn for a Jedi straight off the bat like that. However long it had been for Arbiter since his last run-in with a Jedi, Caedyn got the distinct feeling that he didn't hold them in very high esteem. Caedyn's lightsaber hung from the utility belt of his space suit, drifting in the weightless environment lacking an inhabitable atmosphere; It was a pretty popular weapon both by Force Users and younglings who fantasize of wielding such things.

"Is that going to be a problem for you?" Caedyn replied apprehensively, eyeing the man and trying to figure out what his game was. "I'm guessing you're one of the Mercenaries the Coalition has hired to track down the missing team. If so, we're here for the same objective".

"Crashed ship. Designation: U-Wing.
Cause of malfunction: unknown. Probability of survivors: low".
​

The Mercenary didn't seem overly bothered by the idea that the crew may not have survived. Caedyn followed with his eyes in the direction Arbiter was pointing towards, moving soon enough to begin walking that way. "Here's hoping you're not correct on that front. It'd be nice to bring some people home, not to mention figuring out what brought them down in the first place" Caedyn replied, showing nothing in the way of hostility towards the Mercenary and clearly far more interested in the objective ahead of them both.