What Games are Played [PM if interested]

[Scherezade deWinter]

N E W C O V​

The Confederacy of Independent Systems was a body that never slept. With the amount of territory there influence covered, there was never a situation in which a large portion of the planets within it chose to rest at the same time. With great power comes great responsibility, and the Confederacy invested in massive amounts of personnel and technology to ensure they kept that responsibility up. It was hardly a perfect system; planets and populations could not claim they lived in a utopia. But it was a system that ensured the mantra of many was upheld – We Can Do Better. And step by step, better the Confederacy did.

It was as such that tonight's event was planned. A great ball, to which many of the lesser known Viceroyals were invited to, closer to older borders within Confederate Space. Each and every single planet within the cloud had a Viceroy, someone to act as the liason between the planet and the Confederacy, whose sole job was to ensure that the planet continued to operate and be efficient as per its own subjective standards. Rarely did the Confederacy interfere directly, unless the lives of populations were in danger, or on the rare occasion that danger loomed from the outside.

The goal of the ball was to bring these lesser known Viceroys together. For although they all operated mostly alone, gathering only when the time came to cast macro-level votes regarding the overall direction of the Confederacy, the rest of the times, many were left to their own devices, and many of them remained virtually unknown to all but those who dealt with Viceroyalty staffing matters. So here they all were, dressed as the latest high-class fashion dictated, all behaving perfectly well, as one would expect from politicians.

But not all that shone was gold. Internal strife did not wish for the evening to go as planned, did not wish for the evening to be peaceful and social. Servants within the hall had been bribed, bribed to give certain drinks and foodstuff to some of the Viceroyals. Other servants had been bribed to make sure certain doors within the palace were locked, and others were not.

It had taken efforts of both the Knights Obsidian and a few unnamed people to discover that. Immediately, entire portions of the servant staff had been fired, yet as none of the knew where the exact orders had come from, had not known they were culprits to an event that could lead to the death of hundreds, it had not been possible to track those responsible merely from speaking with them. And knowing that the plot had not been undone, and that cancelling the ball was not truly an option that would keep hearts and minds rested – the Confederacy had to do something.

It was as such that both Obsidian Knight [member="Alkor Centaris"] and Pathfinder [member="Scherezade deWinter"] [story wise still believed to be Madalena Antares] were chosen.

Their mission statement was a simple one. Mingle. Discover. Stop the plot. Bring those responsible for justice back to the Citadel on Geonosis. For the event they had both been dressed entirely incognito; they would be posing as part of the staff, and had schedules to follow, as food and drink servants, as ushers, and then as clean-up crew. And above all, the two had been tasked with ensuring the peace was kept.

 

[Alkor Centaris]

"Excuse me!" her voice was nasal, higher in pitch, and it made his ears ring. Alkor managed to force a smile as he turned to regard the woman, her hand still wagging as if to beckon him closer. "Yes, thank you, I'd like a glass of the Chianti, please," she gestured to the wine bottle on his tray.

"But of course," he replied with a wry smirk and a half-bow, catering to the clientele the way they most preferred. Viceroyalty- it sounded more grandiose than it truly was. They were public servants elevated to a station that made them seem more than human, untouchable.

As he placed the tray delicately down, he moved a wine glass from it into her setting on the table, tilted the wine bottle, and filled her a quarter of the way full. "Oh, I'd like more than that," she tittered.

"Ah, my lady has fine taste," he told her with false approval in his voice. "Let me just top you off, then."

"Oh, I'd like that," she winked at him. Alkor stared at her blankly for a moment. Awkward silence set in before the woman cleared her throat and waved her hand dismissively. "Thank you," she intoned dutifully, averting her gaze from him as though he were something unsightly.

He moved toward the back, to where the rest of the wait staff conglomerated, and leaned close to Madalena ( [member="Scherezade deWinter"] ) as he muttered. "Mostly drunkards on my side," he told her, "I haven't heard anything particularly damning."

Alkor wore a button up shirt complete with frills, black slacks, and a bow tie. If he looked any more like a working class shill, he might have gagged. It was a far cry from feeling at home on the battlefield, but nothing he had not done before. The last time as he recalled, it was Hapes. This was a different time, and this time, his duty was to foil a plot, not to hatch one.

They had run background checks on all the staff extensively before bringing them on, and several of them were actually operatives as well, but the task of sleuthing the caper out fell largely on the senior Pathfinder Antares and the lowly Centaris. Unless something slipped past them, they could focus all of their attention and resources on the guests.

"Table three over there, that's where the Viceroy of New Cov is hosting his closest neighbors. Maybe you'll have some luck with them."

 

[Scherezade deWinter]

Scherezade made a face. The whole ball thing sounded as stupid could be stupid to her; why insist on keeping the ball when you knew there was someone trying to kill the attendants? There were other ways to track down a would be murderer, ways that would be less dangerous should the mission fail. But this… The Viceroys attending did not even have a choice about this. They were simply not told. And to make it worse? It appeared that it would only be her and [member="Alkor Centaris"] doing the thing, with not enough leads to help them through it.

Standing in the back with other servants, she peered at the people gathered. There was no point in her trying to converse with the Viceroys, she knew. Perhaps the actual Madalena could have done it, but Scherezade did not have the knack for schmoozing and small talk. Her main hope was that blood would be spilled. That would alert her Blood Hound senses and they could be in the relevant place in no time. Alas, it did not seem like it was going to be that easy.

Glancing at her partner for the mission, "Madalena" nodded and grabbed her tray of finger food, headed over to them.

Keeping a pleasant smile on her face, she waited as the politicians took their fill. She knew who the New Cov Vicedude was because she'd seen the holos, and she understood from the conversation happening near her that at least two of those gathered were either very close friends or family, but they generally only spoke about the economic situation of the planet and not… Well, that was silly of her. Of course they would not speak about a plot in front of her, if a plot there even was.

Giving them a polite nod, Scherezade turned around only to take a misstep and lose her balance, landing right at the feet of the Viceroy. She cursed loudly, causing a few eyebrows to raise, and apologized profusely, like a good little waitress.

When she returned to [member="Alkor Centaris"] a minute later, after having cleaned up after herself, she nodded to him. "Attached the bug on the back of his shoe," she whispered, "I'm thinking about patrolling the grounds and checking if there's any people who are keeping their distance from the main event."

 

[Alkor Centaris]

Tags: [member="Scherezade deWinter"]

"Understood," the Corellian spoke in a low voice as he adjusted his bow tie, uncomfortable with the sensation of anything around his neck. Enough attempted strangulations made a man leery. Ghost pains still haunted his thoughts as he looked across the Viceroyalty gathered in the room and agreed with her. "It would probably be best for you to get a general idea of where everyone is. If you see anything out of order, make sure to relay it immediately."

Of course, just as he finished speaking, another patron flagged him down for service. The theory behind allowing the ball to continue as planned was sound- the execution would always be flawed. Human error notwithstanding, the assailants would continue with their plan, and without further information, the entire situation was a time bomb. They didn't know the specific targets. They couldn't confirm any connection between killer and contractor. There were too many unknown factors.

Alkor disliked it.

Power grabs were normal between smaller players on the political field, but within the Confederacy that was a dangerous game. That was how Metus and the Knights Obsidian learned about the plot to begin with. Someone either did not care about getting caught, or they wanted the attention. As he came around with a platter of hors d'oeuvres for the lusty eyed fat man at the corner table, Alkor noticed one of the petite women in his entourage smiling at him with a bemused expression.

"Thank you," she said politely as she plucked a morsel from his tray and placed it delicately between her lips. "I've never seen you working one of these events before, she added a moment later, after she had savored the dish for a moment. "Are you a local? You're a bit older than the average serving boy."

She has a lot of questions, he noted as he offered her a half smile, "just a side job to pay a few bills," he said modestly. "These big events have a pretty nice differential." Though he knew little about the local economy, Alkor had spent a large portion of his life as a destitute boy on Corellia. He knew about taking odd jobs to make ends meet, perhaps better than most. "The Viceroyalty of the Southern Systems are quite gracious with their funding."

Her eyes shifted slightly to regard him and she masked her face behind a fan. "You're quite the charmer, aren't you?" she teased. "I suppose you're aiming to get on my good side, mister...?"

"Just a serving boy," he assured her, "not interested in sleeping my way to the top, ma'am," he whispered in her ear, close enough that only she could hear.

"My my," she whispered back, "you're not afraid of anything, are you? That's quite the accusation."

"Another truffle, miss?" he asked her as he pulled away, one arm behind his back. She took one, placed it on her tongue, and winked at him.

"One way or another, I generally do get what I want," she told him.

As he turned, Alkor murmured into his communicator. "I've got one of the Viceroys eyeing me. Not sure if she's wary, but we need to be more discreet. Anything on your end?"

 

[Scherezade deWinter]

Scherezade nodded. A moment later, she abandoned her position, sneaking off through servant's hallways and away from the main event. The amount of credits that had been poured into this building was ridiculous; all that richness, fancy marbles and stuff she didn't quite recognize, and yet she knew how lowly the staff that kept the place clean and running was paid; just enough to not cause legal problems. It was stupid.

Still, she put those thoughts out of her head as she flowed the halls out into the gardens. The building wasn't as much as a single building, but a main one where the ball room was as well as additional wings, yet the gardens connected into several other large structures, such as the one with the kitchen, one with staff rooms, and a few guest pool houses sort of deals. It was a lot of real estate that was put together to give off the sense of expense, of lack of care for wasted grounds. And the grounds themselves… So many flowers and other flora imported from various parts of the galaxy. It was hard to believe that all this richness and diversity could be found on such a backwater planet.

It would be easy to get distracted in it. Too easy.

And despite everything, were it not for the scent of blood that suddenly hit her nose, she would have most definitely been distracted by it. It was her abilities as a Blood Hound that helped her scent it, for it was defiantly too far for just a human nose to pick up. It were also those Blood Hound abilities that helped her focus on it, bringing the distractions from the flora to go away.

[OOC note: There are flowers in the garden whose bio-effect is a mild distraction for most mammalian minds during the night-time].

Blinking, clinging to the blood withal that was in her, Scherezade followed it into one of the pool house; it was the one that was the furthest away. Her eyes scanned the ground as she walked forward, looking for foot prints or anything else that would clue her in as to what might have happened, but it seemed everything was… Clean?

Letting the shadows provide her with cover, Scherezade moved into the building itself after finding the front door unlocked. The smell was coming from upstairs, yet… Something about it was slightly strange. It was fresh, but for fresh blood, it was very weak.

And upstairs, there was no body. And despite the smell, there was no blood.

Scherezade blinked.

The incoming message from her mission partner made her nod, and she clicked the button to send a message back. Check her personal file, there should be something in the psychological evaluation to see if it's part of her normal behavior. I'm in one of the pool houses. There's the scent of very fresh blood but I can find neither blood or body.

[member="Alkor Centaris"]

 

[Alkor Centaris]

Alkor paused as she gave her report. The scent of blood should not have been detectable over the smell of chlorine, lest the nose of the scent chaser be at the level of a trained beast. Still, it brought other questions to mind. Other chemicals, and things that might have been available in the location she gave. "Pool house?" he repeated, just to be certain. "you're surrounded by cleaning supplies. Chlorine in heavy amounts is used to purify that water of contaminants. If there was a body there, it would be easy to dump it in a vat and the corrosion would eat away at it. No blood, no smell- except maybe for the first hour or so."

He looked around slowly at tables, sure to keep apprised so that everyone remained entertained. Nothing could go wrong and alert them to trouble, and if it did, both Alkor and [member="Scherezade deWinter"] would be in trouble. "There should be a room on the same level as the pool, or below, where the chemicals are kept and controlled. You might find a clue there." He paused. "Wear protective gear. Chlorine as a gas is extremely deadly and wouldn't take more than a few minutes to kill you."

As he spoke, he brought up the file on his datapad about the woman who had spoken to him moments before. Or at least, he made the attempt. Without a name, it would take a facial recognition scan, and he would have to wait for a precise moment where she was distracted to get one.

The plot seemed to thicken by the moment.

 

[Scherezade deWinter]

Cleaning supplies. Right. She hadn't thought of that when she'd entered the place. But while what [member="Alkor Centaris"] said was true, he was not aware of Scherezade's abilities with all that had to do with blood. To a normal person, or even an animal, his statement would have been beyond true. But with a Blood Hound whose connection was not severed from the Force, it was a different story. A story that, sadly, she could not relay over the comm just at that moment.

Clues. Protective gear. Chlorine as a gas. Scherezade nodded, mostly to herself, and set around to look. It wasn't long before she found it; a door that opened to as staircase that led downstairs. Eyes squinting, her glowing eyes gave the slightest of illumination as she descended the stairs, the darkness inside beckoning and inviting to her, whispering of sweetness of a goal almost achieved. Were it not for the worry about the mission and aforementioned gasses, she might have noted how strange that was seconds ago. Hindsight was always 20/20.

The next thing the Pathfinder knew, she was downstairs, but the stairway had disappeared. The room, still dark, was inhabited by others. "Give me a sound and give me the night, let me see it all tonight," she whispered the words of the Witch spell, the first one she had ever written that time and time again appeared to prove itself in its necessity to the life she had built for herself. The soft ding was heard in her head alone, and within a heart beat the room flushed in hues of pink and purple, showing her what there was.

Sadly, there was no time to actually focus on any of it, for the very first thing she saw was five robed and masked figures standing around her, lacking friendly intent. Without her usual armor and deadly array of weapons, all she had were two knives hidden beneath her clothes. They would have to do.

Scherezade launched herself backwards, her arms bending backwards to tighten around the neck of the one that was standing behind her as her two knives flew from her shoes and into the air. It was not as impressive as fanning a dozen blades out, but it would have to do. Using her grip, she jumped from the ground and moved above her enemy, landing behind him, hands still on neck, just in the blink of time to use him as a meat shield against incoming blades that would have otherwise shiskabab'd her.

Her two floating blades made short work of the figure on the furthest end, leaving her four… Well, three and a half to deal with now. Two more found themselves lodged with her knives in their throats, falling down quickly.

But the last one standing was not so easy. Still holding on to her meat shield, Scherezade barely had time to react before he plunged a telekinetic strike at her, sending both her and her hostage backwards. She screamed, letting the other man go as she landed harshly against the wall, the slam against the back of her head causing her to see stars for several breaths. When her vision cleared, the masked figure was already on her, and Scherezade could feel… Yes. Looking down, it was her own knife that was sticking in her abdomen. He's gone for the lower stomach, but a few inches too up north gave her the savings grace she needed. There would be no intestines dropping out yet.

No more toying.

Looking up, her fingers curled around the hilt of the blade that was inside of her, but her eyes focused on the masked figure. Seconds. That was all she needed. Seconds to call for the blood beneath their veins to answer to her calling. Not in the mood to be covered in it, this day the Blood Hound did not call the red liquid out of the body. Instead, she boiled it. The screams were almost music to her ears. It was amazing how every different kind of torture or death inflicted a different sort of scream from the victim.

As the body fell to the ground with a loud thud, Scherezade looked down at the hilt. No good. Her own healing capabilities were… More than challenged. She supposed she could do some first aid if she removed the blade from her flesh, but that would hardly be enough.

<<Please tell me you know how to heal at least a little,>> she sent through the comlink, <<Found stairs that led downstairs and got attacked by five masked and robed figures. Sort of have a knife in my stomach now. Not fun. How goes with that Viceroy?>>