Trouble in Val'hala

[Zmej Ren]

[SIZE=10pt]Zmej Ren’s mask stared right into its owner’s yellow orbs and if her gloved hands turned it just right, she could see her own pale reflection in the visor. What would her father think if he saw he like that? Purified by the dark side, successfully passing her training and becoming one of the Supreme Leader’s elite agents? For some reason, Asenath’s mind could not paint the man’s image looking at her with pride in his eyes. The very situation screamed incompatible, and yet she knew to have always done everything to make him happy and soften his cold, uncaring heart. He praised the daughter’s efforts with unspoken contempt. A Force sensitive – not even a proper woman. Was she the sole reason behind his disappointment? As much as Zmej would love to muster up enough courage to ask the man directly, he laid in eternal slumber, all chances to fix the relationship equally dead.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10pt]Pushing away a stray lock of hair, the blonde cast one final glance at the mast before putting it on. The sensation was intimately familiar by now, after years of concealing her identity from people outside of her order. It felt natural, even, and the teenage Ren sensed a tinge of pride whenever carrying out the Father’s will, as if walking in her biological parent’s footsteps. In a way, she was Sieger Ren’s daughter – all Ren were his children, striving to please the First Order’s leader through obedience to his commands and spreading the man’s deadly message to the farthest reaches of the galaxy. Such as now, an important task that required immediate response, bringing the Ren to the planet of Val’hala. Its ostensible utopia carried several flaws in dire need of removal.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10pt]Some poor buggers have decided to steal a shipment of precious ore meant for the Supreme Leader’s faithful, inadvertently signing their own death warrant by this act alone. The theft took place in docking bay 43 and left two security officers dead, bodies torn apart by heavy blaster fire. The two corpses also presented the only two witnesses – or would have, if not for a camera capturing the act. While all attackers wore masks and helmets, one sported a blaster repeater for an arm. Since not many sentients choose that as replacement and given the lack of subtlety stemming from such enhancement, it did not take long for the investigators to pin the crime on one Seb Prusan, nicknamed Cannon – a veteran of the destructive conflict between the Republic and their One Sith enemies. Harbouring strong distaste of authorities and seeing the First Order a direct successor to the dreaded 0ne Sith, the man’s decision apparently was to start his own little rebellion.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10pt]A spark that needed to be stomped out with extreme prejudice – thought the brain behind it had to be captured alive, be it Cannon or anyone else. For both interrogation and as an example of what happened to all who defied Sieger Ren’s vision. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=10pt]Zmej’s been dispatched alongside another Ren to participate in the hunt and the two sat in a transport carrying them to the scene. The orders were clear; recover what belonged to the First Order and dispense justice accordingly. While there was little glory in eliminating petty uprisings, she understood the need for it and would not show mercy – just like with deadly tumours, self-proclaimed freedom fighters had to be removed completely, or the little pieces left alone started to grow again. Smiling at the thought under her mask, the Ren spent the flight in silence, focused on her inner anger and directing it to make connection with the dark side to fuel her entire being. It came surprisingly easy to her, naturally even. The Force acted strange today – and Zmej soon realized her colleague to be the cause, signature dark as night and hungrily throwing all light into its gaping maw. It was beautiful and pleasant at the same time, for the lack of better word.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10pt]“How did you do that?”[/SIZE][SIZE=10pt] chirped Zmej, finally breaking the silence as her distorted voice filtered through the vocalizer, [/SIZE][SIZE=10pt]“Such purity. The Force itself bends to your will.” [/SIZE]


[member="Halle Ren"]

 

[Griff Loran]

[member="Zmej Ren"] | [member="Halle Ren"]​

​

"Niner Niner, do you copy? Sensors indicate an incoming jet stream at 2 o'clock. 3, 2, 1..."

Their shuttle and the one directly to their right shuddered violently as the First Order shuttles crossed past a heavy stream of high altitude wind. He flicked the passenger section comm section switch and spoke to his riders casually, saying,

"Just a freak jet stream, folks. Nothing to worry about. 8 minutes to LZ." He flicked it back off and got back to work.

While compensating, a string of diagnostic terms came from Griff's mouth.

"Spatial drift: 2.31 yards. Pulling starboard yaw. Increments of .05 until we get back on ideal approach. See what you can do about that system strain, Shorty."

"Sure thing, boss..." came a voice from the co-pilot's seat. What Shorty lacked in enthusiasm and friendliness, he made up for in...actually, no. Shorty just seemed like the kind of guy who wanted to come off as perpetually slighted. It seemed like a victim comfort complex to Griff.

 

[Hansen]

Halle Ren,
Val'hala

Halle sits with folded arms across breastplate of battle armour. A Crossguard Lightsaber with an ornate design sits attached to belt. "Do What?" Halle asks simply from her chair, voice distorts thanks to the Vocoder contained within annunciator. The Disciple listens to Zmej's observation regarding the force and how it wells inside the transport. "It does? I thought that came naturally with being a force wielder." Halle's hand scratches at an annoying itch that decides to plague her nose from behind-helmet. The echo of duraplast fills the largely vacant transport with the scratching motion. Halle wasn't accustomed to working with other Disciples like this. Although, that didn't mean she rejected the opportunity or resented it. On the Contrary, Halle believes it will strengthen the bond between herself and the Order. "How many 'rebels' do you think we'll need to deal with sister Zmej?" Halle's head dips to the right slightly with question being asked, the young woman heaves out a distorted sigh through vocoder.

[member="Zmej Ren"]

 

[Jaron Lesan]

Jaron was summoned to follow the landing party. The scout worked in the shadows, and he worked alone, unless help was required then he tended to call on [member="Isla Ashen"] for her assistance. He was partial to their partnership, as he saw it being, and had never worked with anyone so easily as he had with her. Any students that he once had were gone. Jaron had a hard time hanging on to them. If only he could track down another pilot for Rogue Prime, Jaron would be back in business. Perhaps the force would provide him with one this day. For now his mind was focused on the task at hand.

His dark robes were the only thing which would identify him. While most opted to wear robes which covered them entirely Jaron wore a sleeveless top. The mask he wore was to protect his face, his identity from those he did not trust. Jaron knew none of the Ren he had seen on the list well enough to reveal his face to them. The last thing he wanted was to find himself knifed in the back by some aspiring student.

Rebellions were designed to be squashed no matter where they came from. They often came from within ones own ranks, those who pretended loyalty but harbored a betrayal deep within their hearts. Those who had stolen the precious commodity for the Supreme Leader's war machine would surely pay, especially if it was discovered they were from within the First Order to begin with. The scout grinned as he placed his mask to cover his face. Within moments the ship would be touching down on the surface where he would meet the rest of the hunting party, or follow from the shadows. His degree of involvement was undecided for now. The Ren was curious about the ones he was about to observe.

[member="Halle Ren"] | [member="Griff Loran"] | [member="Zmej Ren"]

 

[Progflaw99]

Odd. That was the only word that came to mind as the overly tall S'kytri disciple sat cross legged on the floor of the small cargo hold. Where the others were, he didn't much care - right now he was focused. Eyes closed and mind isolated from the remainder of his brothers and sisters aboard the vessel, Phenex gently rested his hands on the haft of the electrostaff laying across his knees. The weapon was deadly in the right hands, and Phenex had been using polearms since his first taste of combat sport during his childhood on Skye. A gentle ruffle of the leathery wings disturbed the relative silence of the hold, the ambient hum of the engines monopolizing the space.

S'kytri were strange creatures, definitively humanoid in form though taller, and lighter. Their bones were similar to that of birds, hollow. In Phenex's case it allowed him to be quick and powerful with his weapon of choice though in the same measure it made him more vulnerable. Additionally, much to the chagrin of human-centric society, S'kytri were born with leathery, almost demon-like despite their fair and often angelic features. In contrast with these strange anatomical features, their skin - much like the Chiss - was a blue hue, though lighter and their eyes were more human in nature.

Focusing on that space between serenity and rage, Phenex temporarily brought down the mental barrier separating him from his companions, reaching out through the Force to them.

<< Will we be arriving soon? I need to stretch my legs. >>​

​

​

[member="Zmej Ren"] | [member="Griff Loran"] | [member="Halle Ren"] | [member="Jaron Lesan"]​

 

[Hansen]

Halle Ren,
Val'hala

With Phenex Ren reaching out through the Force to Halle, all the man would feel of Halle's ominous and cold presence is the quiet presence of an echo from a hole that the light side of the force did not shine, a muffled scream ripple outwards through the incorporeal threads of empathetic emotion connecting them. For those who have embraced the dark side. Such an ominous, cold echo might actually be comforting even beautiful. Halle hears an incorporeal voice enter her thoughts. "Be careful in lowering your defences like that, thoughts can betray you Brother. If I were to push the other way with my own consciousness you might find I could read you like a book" Halle's voice from behind the helmet's vocoder sounds timbre and bassy, it was possible for others to mistake the young Disciple as a man.

[member="Phenex Ren"] [member="Jaron Lesan"] [member="Griff Loran"] [member="Zmej Ren"]

 

[Kaalia Pavanos]

Taking in the faces around her, Kaalia felt the collective Dark side presence to be quite overpowering. Most of them likely never drew upon the Light, being used to such a presence with others as they were engulfed by it themselves. The flame-haired woman however still struggled fully accepting the Dark side and leaving the Light behind. She hid the fact that she used to be a Jedi when she was younger, but the pull of the Light to go back still occupied her mind. She felt slightly uncomfortable, but kept a calm façade. Nobody needed to know.

Kaalia tied up her hair into a knot, making sure it wouldn't get in the way. She glanced into the interior of the mask she was holding. The young woman wasn't one to obscure her face, feeling a sense of pride in not hiding who she is. The scar across her left eye was a striking feature, but Kaalia didn't mind it. It was the opposite in fact, the young woman saw it as part of who she was. She realized discretion was of the essence however, and the mask engulfed her face as she moved it closer to it.

The 19-year saw no reason to speak. She sat in silence, nursing her thoughts, calming herself down before landing. She quietly hummed a melody, one that she learned a long time ago. She would answer if she was spoken to, but for now she enjoyed her small moment of solidarity.

Spoiler

[member='Halle Ren'], [member='Zmej Ren'], [member='Phenex Ren'], [member='Jaron Lesan'], [member='Griff Loran']

 

[Perth Levov]

Perth was dutiful. It came with the territory. The Knights of Ren served the First Order in much the same way the Jedi served any of the governments they’d allied to over the years. The light-siders might talk of being galactic peace-keepers but when any number gathered for a cause, it was most common to have a government pulling the strings and providing the credits for continued operation.

Not that the Knights were Jedi. But neither were they Sith. They had similarities to both but in the eyes of the galaxy they would be lumped in with the Sith no doubt due to their extensive use of the dark-side.

Perth had learned from many of the Jedi and Sith teachings – as well as from the Knights of Ren. Which was where her loyalty lay – without question – although she felt the need to supplement her knowledge from all corners of the galaxy. But when the First Order was in need, she came running.

Now who would choose to steal from the Knights was a mystery. Perhaps that was the problem with being covert to the point of invisible. Pirates and criminals no doubt thought they were stealing from just another government and that they fancied their chances against detection and even expected to win a shoot-out with troopers.

But even if the perpetrators figured the regular First Order troops were assailable, it fell to the Ren to prove them wrong. A message had to be sent. A very loud and crystal clear message.

So Perth joined forces with the others that had been requested and sat on the transport awaiting arrival. As she waited her eyes were closed and her hood was raised sufficiently to throw her face into darkness. She had no time for small talk and instead meditated – not seeking calmness but instead she used it to channel her anger, to finely hone it.

[member="Kaalia Voldaren"] [member="Halle Ren"] [member="Phenex Ren"] [member="Jaron Lesan"] [member="Griff Loran"] [member="Zmej Ren"]

 

[Zmej Ren]

[SIZE=10pt]With the pilot’s voice booming through the speakers, announcing landing in eight minutes, Zmej closed her unnaturally hued eyes and leaned back into the seat. It would be a lie to claim she did not feel a bit envious of her sister’s beautiful and powerful presence, especially since the Ren appeared to be fairly oblivious to her own gift, leaving the curious teenager none the wiser – a feeling that birthed slight irritation, as Zmej lusted to learn how to further strengthen and empower the darkness within. Fortunately, the cold, emotionless mask hid any and all expressions that could have formed on her face, while the fresh disciple’s self-control pushed such treacherous thoughts back, using the feeling to take a dive into the dark side and spending the remaining eight minutes in meditation. While a hot-headed, passionate youth, Zmej Ren was no fool – to those trying to control the Force, anger was a resource like any other. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=10pt]“Numbers are irrelevant. Our Father’s will shall be done whether there’s five or five hundred insurgents.”[/SIZE][SIZE=10pt] Zmej coolly replied to Halle’s inquiry, voice so devoid of emotion it became apparent the blonde had tossed everything into the great kettle housing her boiling passion.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10pt]Phenex’ touch wrote words into the young Ren’s mind, a perfectly clear statement that spoke volumes about his telepathic abilities. It was something Zmej looked forward to mastering herself – and she knew it to be inevitably only a matter of time and extensive practice. Already floating through the currents of the Force, the blonde’s mind decided to reply in kind. Identifying the non-human’s signature among so many devoted to the dark side was challenging enough even without Halle being a well of power Zmej desperately wanted to bathe in – actually relaying the thoughts over to another being posed a different challenge entirely lest Zmej wanted everyone in vicinity to hear the message in their head. Careful, like an overly cautious child hoping to surprise and impress their better, Asenath’s mind brushed against that of Phenix while utilizing a mental defence technique she had learned during her studies of Teräs Käsi.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10pt]“Soon, brother.”[/SIZE][SIZE=10pt] [/SIZE]

[SIZE=10pt]She sent him no more than that, but even this little was considered success of immense concentration that placed balance between one’s mental barrier and sending information out.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10pt]Two minutes if her inner clock could be trusted. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=10pt]Once the transport touched the designated landing pad and unleashed the Supreme Leader’s elite soldiers, they’d see a descending nightfall, everything suspiciously quiet around the spaceport that looked all too similar to those on every other city-like planet, be it Coruscant or Nar Shaddaa. Most law-abiding beings have already left, sleeping soundly in their homes. No such thing awaited the Ren – they’d become shadows, night predators coming out for their prey. The time has been picked on purpose, as no customs were on duty this late at night and only drunks and questionable elements littered the streets during these hours. Right beyond the landing platform laid a park, supposedly to make the visitors feel welcome before leading them into the bustling streets with ordinary residences and clubs alike. One would be able to find anything in there if they searched hard enough, each level of this city a world of its own, complete with mixing cultures and species.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10pt]Looking at the scenery, Zmej waited for all to disembark before turning around and speaking up.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10pt]“We have two locations where to start our search according to the FOSB,”[/SIZE][SIZE=10pt] Zmej’s distorted voice informed her colleagues, reminding them for she wished to voice a suggestion later, [/SIZE][SIZE=10pt]“Prusan’s apartment, one level below, block 18, room 10. Another place to investigate could be his favourite club, named Black Bantha, on this very level. Supposedly filled with disgruntled veterans of the shattered Republic.”[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10pt]She glanced at every single one of them, uncaring if they wore a mask as well or not.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10pt]“I suggest we split and hit both at the same time.”[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10pt]But Zmej had nor experience neither rank to make the call - and so the Ren as a whole needed to make a decision, toss in suggestions and concerns.[/SIZE]

Spoiler

[member="Perth Levov"] [member="Kaalia Voldaren"] [member="Halle Ren"] [member="Phenex Ren"] [member="Jaron Lesan"] [member="Griff Loran"]

 

[Hansen]

Halle Ren,
Val'hala

Halle's right-hand clasps around the hilt of Anariel, Spire of Light; her personal lightsaber and feels the kyber crystal writhe in pain at the touch of fingers that course with dark side energy. "Yes, our Father's will shall be down regardless, however I wish to survive the affair." Halle's lips stretch into a smirk beneath her helmet. "Perhaps as we come closer to their last known position. We should try to reach out through the Force and sense our foe?" Halle makes the suggestion to her peers, and looks around within the comfortable confines of helmet, the life support system fills the helmet with an eighteen degree celsius air. Comforting by the young Disciples' standards.

Halle stands and follows Zmej down the ramp onto the landing pad. "I'll take the Black Bantha then, and concur that we should breach both at the same time." She walks to the edge of the landing platform and looks over into the park with a certain fondness sweeping over her. Halle appreciated such a beautiful display of nature even as it is contrasted by the eyesore of drunks, and figures of questionable repute. Halle looked past that and sees the life for what it is; A beacon for the Force, as all life is.

[member="Zmej Ren"] [member="Perth Levov"] [member="Kaalia Voldaren"] [member="Phenex Ren"] [member="Jaron Lesan"] [member="Griff Loran"]

 

[Perth Levov]

Perth was aware of the conversations around her. Aware but not interested. Just as a firaxa was conscious of small fish in her waters. They existed but they did not concern her. Not that Perth was in any way not a team player. The objective was paramount and she would do whatever it took to ensure they all came back alive – but being a part of the whole did not extend to social discourse in her eyes. It was not necessary, so it was a distraction.

Eight minutes.

She disregarded the fact, despite the volume as it was irrelevant to her. When they landed, she would be ready. She had nothing to prepare ahead of time.

Finally, they touched down in the still of the night. The graveyard shift, Perth noted. Potentially apt. And she stood and followed the others, falling into line where felt appropriate. She had no desire to be at the front or the rear – and was not interested in posturing to take a specific slot on the marching order. They were a team.

She listened to the briefing intently. Lives might depend upon a detail overlooked.

And then they were two teams. The proposal was solid and as good as any other. Halving their number doubled their pace. It was likely both would meet resistance – and there were enough in each group to overwhelm and apprehend the one needed alive. So Perth nodded her accord and joined one of the two teams that was forming. Her hood still masked her features but in the shadows, her translucent irises were already mutating into a pale shade of yellow.

 

[Jaron Lesan]

As the young Ren gathered in the park to decide their plan, Jaron watched on. There was an obvious desire to lead coming from [member="Zmej Ren"]. Her plan, while not altogether foolish, was based on a foolish notion. Unfortunately he had not been on the ship to hear the exchange. Had he been, Jaron would have reminded her that number were always relevant. They made the difference no matter how one looked at it. While a large army could be defeated by one, it was still about the numbers. Numbers determined strategy, something the young tended to neglect.

Jaron couldn't trail two groups. His interest was in Zmej at this point. She was young, ambitious, and if she wanted to be a knight in her own right one day, she would need guidance. Whether Jaron was that person or not, he was curious about her.

"Don't be over zealous or overconfident," Jaron said to the group as he finally chose to reveal himself to them. "Regardless of where he is to be found, he will not be alone, and surprise is the best weapon. Why take the chance he is at neither location and reveal your intentions too soon?"

His eyes scanned the group and the fell to one he did recognize, [member="Phenex Ren"]. "It is good to see you, brother," Jaron spoke to the winged Ren. They had worked together in securing the bastion of the Ren. Jaron had met a potential student there, but they were no more. All of Jaron's students had proven to be uncommitted to the Ren.

"Perhaps he should take to flight and find his perch near one of the locations he is suspected be, and send a scout to the other. When we know where he is at we can take him on two fronts."

[member="Perth Levov"] [member="Halle Ren"] [member="Kaalia Voldaren"] [member="Griff Loran"]

 

[Zmej Ren]

[SIZE=10pt]There were less suggestions than expected. For a moment, it unnerved the teenage Ren, not sure whether to take the silence as an agreement or not. Knowing how much responsibility rested on her shoulders, Zmej joined the short-lived silence, contemplating the plan. Just as her lips opened to pass a decision, a newcomer approached – one that certainly did not arrive with the rest. Almost relieved, the disciple paused, helmeted face turned to greet the newcomer in questioning silence. Without an idea who he was, Zmej remained quiet and listened, surprise at his revelation as another of the Supreme Leader’s agents hidden beneath the expressionless mask. The idea of being watched, judged by another party did not add to her confidence – though it did offer a powerful motivation boost as she considered the man’s words.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10pt]“I am certain he knows we’re after him. That attack on the shipment was no accident,”[/SIZE][SIZE=10pt] declared the blonde, gaze hardening, [/SIZE][SIZE=10pt]“Which is why we need to be careful and stay in contact over the comms.”[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10pt]Finally, she spoke, voice showing zero signs of indecision or hesitation.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10pt]“Halle. Phenex. Kaalia. Go to the Black Bantha and ask around,”[/SIZE][SIZE=10pt] she announced, addressing each of them with a nod, [/SIZE][SIZE=10pt]“The rest of us will go to Prusan’s apartment. May the Supreme Leader watch over you.”[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10pt]Whether or not she made the right call, Zmej made her way through the park and crossed the street, leaving this level behind before she and her group entered the turbolift. One press of a button and they came down in an instant, spat out in a substantially more living place with more souls wandering around. Keen sight observed anyone, anything remotely suspicious, but none of the passers-by could be bothered to spare a single glance upon the Ren. Following suite, the teenager led her companions down the streets, looking for the right number to invite them in. Once block 18 came into view, towering and menacingly silent with only few lights adorning its heights, Zmej slowed down in her approach. Mind focused, reaching out, the Ren closed her orbs and sensed through the immediate surroundings, brushing against emotions and signatures alike. Unfortunately – or fortunately – there was nothing out of order, no screaming alarm signs.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10pt]She entered. Clean and tidy, the complex’ hallways were different from what Zmej expected. Silent, too, signing most of its inhabitants were already in bed or outside. It was then that the Force finally punched her in the gut, stopping the young Ren in tracks without any explanation, mysterious as ever. It was as if the Force denied her the passage further, firmly refusing to let anyone enter the suspect’s home and invade his privacy.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10pt]“There’s… something in the room.”[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10pt]Nothing living according to the Force, yet still dangerous; an entire room rigged with explosives, ready to blow the moment someone tried to enter.[/SIZE]


[SIZE=10pt]Those destined to check out the club did not have to search the streets for long – a flashy sign portraying the well-known creature called for their attention from afar, leaving no doubt about the place. No bouncers or skimpy clad Twi’leks stood outside to toss customers away or lure them in. Voices and loud music could be heard coming from beyond the door, muffled, yet positively betraying the place as a favourite drinking spot of numerous regulars. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=10pt]Its décor immediately gave away most of the patrons had an intimate relationship with the Republic – proudly displayed flags, holopictures of long destroyed Republic monuments, images of cheering soldiers from when the war had yet to be lost, all wrapped in smoke, cheesy jokes and drunken laughter. Even the Force swiftly confirmed the almost unbearable atmosphere of ease running between the men, as all were among their own, like family. Bonds formed during war last for a long time, and the Black Bantha was exactly the type of club that made profit by bringing these individuals together every evening, a place for them to exchange stories and discuss what could have been. Several eyes travelled to meet those new, alien entities who entered, watching them with suspicion, some chatter stopped, but none made a bad move that would indicate violence in the foreseeable future. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=10pt]No individual with a blaster repeater for an arm.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10pt]Upon spotting the strange group that was completely new to this place as well, the bartender smoothly put down an empty glass he just finished cleaning, empty hands gesturing for the Ren to come in. Leaning against the bar, he watched them approach with an amused glint in his eyes, most likely certain the group was simply lost and entered the wrong door.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10pt]“Anything I can do for ya?”[/SIZE]

Spoiler

[member="Jaron Lesan"] [member="Perth Levov"] [member="Halle Ren"] [member="Kaalia Voldaren"] [member="Phenex Ren"] [member="Griff Loran"]

 

[Perth Levov]

Perth took in the advice. The newcomer was equally logical – although in her limited experience, there was never a best plan, merely options of good ones. And a good one well executed beat a great one that people did not buy in to.

But she was not here to voice an opinion – at least not as far as she understood. A leader had been appointed and she would follow instruction unless she felt it risked the mission. Then and only then she would speak up. So she rode the silence, knowing that to speak now would declare factions within the group, which was not a positive outcome at this stage.

So she kept her gaze on the young woman and remained in the group that had formed next to her. And as she suspected, Zmej reconfirmed the plan and it appeared they had agreement. They were off to the apartment. A small group invariably draws attention, but there was little alternative, so she walked with the others as they made their way through a park and over a street and into a lift.

Soon they’d found the housing block they wanted and Zmej purposefully slowed them. Perth had not exchanged a word with anyone thus far and saw no need to begin now. This was a mission, not a social event after all.

She chose not to use the Force. She was a Disciple for a start and her powers were not as strong as many around her – she knew that. Plus, her preferred approach was a significant drain on the Force and so she wanted to keep as fresh as she could for when she might need to act.

Zmej gave the warning. Once more Perth avoided the temptation to use the Force. She could sense others were and would wait to see what their investigations revealed. Finally Perth lowered her hood and she glanced around the group, one eyebrow raised. If anyone had something to share, she was keen to hear.

[member="Zmej Ren"] [member="Jaron Lesan"] [member="Halle Ren"] [member="Kaalia Voldaren"] [member="Phenex Ren"] [member="Griff Loran"]

 

[Hansen]

Halle Ren,
Val'hala

"A sound plan, I will go to the Black Bantha and alert you when I arrive at its entrance, Sister Zmej." Halle sweeps her armourweave cape with the left hand. Halle's path takes her straight through the park towards the Black Bantha cantina located not far from where they had landed. Upon Entering, Halle's sulfuric yellow eyes dart around the interior from behind her armour's polarized lenses and study it keenly; Proud memorabilia of the Republic is there for all to see. "Zmej this is Halle, we've arrived at the Black Bantha, making contact with the local scum now." The Bartender greets the Disciples of Ren and Halle makes note of his hand moving and is immediately alarmed by the 'convenient' motion. Some disembodied force brings Anariel into Halle's right hand with a simple motion, the Bartender might be intimidated by the young woman clasping a Lightsabre and wearing such a menacing suit of Armour; somewhat reminiscent of the ancient Sith. "Yes, I'm looking for a man..." Halle pauses and stops short of the Bar with about a foot between them. "With an arm for a blaster."

[member="Zmej Ren"] [member="Perth Levov"] @Jason Lesan

 

[Zmej Ren]

Her finger hovered inches above the terminal, yet the very thought of going through with the motion gave Zmej this nauseating feeling of utter dread. Ignoring a push this strong became impossible, lowering her hand. The room itself wanted the uninvited visitors stay away, promising death to anyone who dared to enter. Without knowing the details, she took a step back, unsure how to proceed. Deadly traps, or perhaps an ambush awaited behind the sleek door, neither a good thing for the operatives to walk into. The young disciple turned to her colleague, admittedly more experienced when it came to raids. Or so Zmej hoped. It was embarassing, especially after de-facto taking lead, but when at loss, it often paid off to look for a more experienced being.

“What do you feel?” Zmej questioned [member="Perth Levov"], confusion and concern masked beneath the stone cold helmet, “Do you think we should risk it and go in?”


The bartender gave [member="Halle Ren"] a knowing nod, taking another glass and cleaning it, albeit his suspicious gaze never left the woman, studying her weird attire with renewed interest. It really wasn’t the apparel alerting him to something going on – it was the question about a local coupled with the armour that bred paranoia. Whether the bartender thought Halle a security officer or something else, he did not tell, continuing his work as normal, though one sensitive to the Force would be able to feel a sudden increase in tension.

“You mean Cannon? Haven’t seen him in a while. Try asking Trigger, stuffed in the back over there. The two know each other well.”

With the glass polished clean, he put it down and pointed somewhere into the club – index finger going straight for a lone figure sipping some sort of alcoholic beverage in the far back, cloaked in shadows just enough for his face to remain void of features. The gesture’s victim shrinks into his seat upon noticing the attention directed to him, trying to become invisible and swiftly returning to his drink, head turned away and sorely wishing to be someplace else. Fear, almost panic could be sensed from the individual, a stench intimately known to all practitioners of the dark side.



[member="Jaron Lesan"] [member="Kaalia Voldaren"] [member="Phenex Ren"]

 

[Perth Levov]

Perth waited. She had patience aplenty and given this other Disciple was taking the lead, she was quite prepared to be guided. Not that she lacked initiative or wanted her fellow Disciple to fail. Rather it was how she operated – she was dutiful and believed passionately in the whole being greater than the sum of parts. She would not allow any personal ambition to get in the way of the mission – and expected the same from the others.

Clearly Zmej was waiting. She may have been awaiting further information or she could simply be unsure what to do. And finally Perth’s patience paid off. Zmej acted – albeit in an unexpected way.

“What do I feel?” Perth echoed? Given she was asked the direct question, she probed with the Force. Closing her eyes, she entered Force Sight but sensed no people inside the apartment. She was about to say as much when something felt wrong. She scanned again, slowly.

“There is someone in there, but their life signs register barely above dead. They’re alive, but only just. And I sense danger. I can’t say what precisely – but it feels like a trap. That’s all I can share.”

[member="Zmej Ren"]

 

[Kaalia Pavanos]

Kaalia looked around the Black Bantha. Quite a cozy place, she'd loved to sit down and have a drink, but they had a job to do. Hearing the conversation between [member='Halle Ren'] and the bartender, the redhead saw eyes shift towards the two as the name Cannon was brought up. The shifty man the bartender pointed out as Trigger, seemed to be afraid, which rose Kaalia's suspicion. She felt fear coming off of him, making it very obvious he knew something. The young woman straightened herself, calming herself down and letting her emotions take a backseat. Right now Kaalia didn't exist, she was merely a Ren. The 19-year old still had trouble shifting herself into that role, but right now that didn't show.

Wasting no time, Kaalia made her way to the man, leaving him with nowhere to go. Her vocoder sounding emotionless, the flame-haired woman spoke. "Where is Cannon?" She stared at Trigger, who looked back with fear written all across his face. He didn't answer, her fear likely preventing him from doing so. "Answer me, for your own good." The man felt a slight tug at his neck as Kaalia gathered the Force around it, threatening to choke him. "Where is Cannon?"

Spoiler

[member='Zmej Ren']

Spoiler

[member='Perth Levov'] [member='Phenex Ren'] [member='Jaron Lesan'] [member='Griff Loran']

 

[Hansen]

Halle Ren,


Val'hala

Halle pivots over the shoulder with Anariel in hand, with a moment of thought and channelling Dark Side energy through her body. The pure white crystal is forced to obey its' master and ignites with a subtle scream rippling outwards through the Force. The crimson blade shoots forth from the gold and white hilt into sight for all those within the club. It is a warning against everyone, for Halle knew Kaalia's rough handling of the man is sure to draw attention. Potentially from those who might resist the Ren, there were few completely innocent people out in the evening at a time like this. "Hurry up and get this done, Voldaren." Halle's voice carries a cool pinch of anxiety to it.

[member="Kaalia Voldaren"] [member="Zmej Ren"]

 

[Zmej Ren]

[member="Perth Levov"]

Soon enough, Zmej’s booted feet touched the apartment’s balcony. If a way in did not lead through the front door, one had to find alternatives. Peeking in, Zmej spied on two figures lying by the bed. Unconscious and tied up, but alive. Security, judging by their uniforms. Nothing dangerous – unlike a device attached to the door, not entirely discreet about being a bomb. With great care, she dared to take a step inside after a thorough look for any other surprises. Fortunately, it appeared the explosive device was the only threat waiting inside. As long as nobody tried to leave or come in the usual way, all would be fine. Walking over to the two officers, the young Ren made a brief stop to admire the apartment’s decorations. Colourful posters covered the walls, betraying Cannon’s allegiance. Nothing else than terrorist propaganda – which offered an insight into the veteran’s radicalization.

“Fight. Resist. Rebel.” Zmej read in dramatic sarcasm before carefully approaching the beaten men, checking on their injuries. Nothing on the outside, suggesting stun weaponry or similar non-lethal means of taking down sentient beings. Her attention shifted over to the bomb, similar to the kind used to mine asteroids. If it went off, the whole apartment block would feel its wrath. Not pushing her luck any further, Zmej paced over whatever a chance of leading them to the target – but it felt he had removed everything concerning his whereabouts. No datapads, no personal diary – just clothes sprawled across the living room. Nothing but dust under the bed. Everything signed the man desired to leave with his stolen goods.

“Inform the local security force about the bomb and their colleagues. And tell them to bolster up defences at the spaceport. It seems our bird has no intention of returning to his nest – he must not be allowed to leave the planet.”

For now, the Ren continued her search, hoping to find any sort of clue to lead then to Cannon.


[member="Halle Ren"] [member="Kaalia Voldaren"]

Trigger wasn’t the bravest man, gulping when the Ren walked up to him and presented her questions. His blank stare into the murky drink was accompanied by muffled curses whispered under his breath. Finally, after being done with venting his frustrations, he finished the drink, and probably would have continued to ignore the red-head if not feeling her telekinetic grip tightening around his neck. Prompted, Trigger dared to look at her, like a beaten dog at its master’s mercy.

“Alright, alright! I’ll tell you everything I know, just don’t hurt me!” Trigger frowned, looking at the young Ren’s weapons in desperate hopes they wouldn’t be used on him once he spilled his guts.

Igniting a blood red lightsaber in a room filled with men who have fought Sith in the war ended about the same as one might expect. First came surprised gasps, followed by silence, eventually growing into whispers concerning the hated Sith. All heads turned to the deadly sword and its wielder, emotions of fear and hopeless anger directed right at her, but nobody made a further move. Maybe it was the bloody experience with Force sensitive enemies the Republic had suffered that positively stopped everyone in the club from attacking the Ren duo. Staying their hands, the patrons continued to protrude the armoured figure with hard stares, nonverbally giving away the intense wish to strangle her – but knowing all too well what lightsabers could do, nobody desired to go against such weapon bare-handed.

“Cannon and his gang are holed up in an old warehouse. He and his buddies use it as a shooting range from what I heard. Eh, you can find it in the market district on this level. And now let me go! Just… leave.”