A Black Bag Affair

[Progflaw99]

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Location: Barony of Blackwater Reach, Dosuun​

[ Theme ] To be parsed with [ Rain ]​

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What had been an overcast day just hours earlier had rapidly deteriorated. Dark rolling clouds from the North had spread their grasp over the landscape of the Blackwater. The Barony of Blackwater - A reaching stretch of land, high in the hills and nestled near the foothills of a large mountain range and the sprawling body of water which had given the Barony its name. The Reach was home to the landed woman - Irajah Ven. For many weeks, months even they had watched from the shadows, observing the resident of Dosuun. A doctor, not far unlike many of the residents of Avalonia, a working woman who struggled to balance personal life and professional life. Further complicated by the near adoption of a young boy though the Ren had seen little of him as of late.

Rain in sheets had been falling for the better part of an hour, flashes of lightning punctuated by loud thunderclaps bouncing off the hills and across the Blackwater. The Blackwater Reach was sparsely populated, the Baroness herself having only recently constructed her estate. As the sound of rain across the landscape filled the air the sound of swiftly moving feet was masked, the figures themselves cloaked in black. Illuminated only briefly their hunched forms weaving in and out of the highland rocks. Silently the shadowed forms advanced towards the manor, a soft light filtering into the darkness beyond - it was there the forms held fast. Waiting, observing.

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The ground was muddy, an inconveient development of the weather - however it would play to their advantage. Above the manor, Castor Ren gazed down upon it. Their directive had been clear, simple, concise. A crack of thunder shattered the landscape, the Knight of Ren's eyes narrowing. He had brought a number with him - though as he scanned the grounds he realized there was a severe lack of any visible security. It was a new construction, but the Ren liked to be prepared. Telepathically guiding the others into position he moved closer himself, settling just outside the manor grounds. Through the windows he could see a figure here, a figure there. Primarily staff, but as his eyes tracked from right to left across the manor the small device in his hands blinked.

The lifeform detector had recognized one of the figures beyond the glass. Dr. Irajah Ven. The corners of the man's lips pinched as he grinned. He noted the furniture inside, sheets adorning the majority - a chair here or there obviously unveiled for use. Now they would wait, each with an amulet around their necks, their presence in the Force concealed. This was but a part of the play, an act in which one actor had yet to make an appearance. A disciple among their number, a strange one no doubt, but an Imperial nonetheless.

Amit Nykoan. At least that had been his name. A disciple who showed much promise, a man once frozen in carbonite - a man out of time. He had adjusted well, but even still suffered from the blindness brought on by the extensive time spent on ice. While he lacked physical sight, he had advanced quickly, learning to see not by sight but by the Force - feeling and interpreting his surroundings. It was this reason the Ren tasked with this particular directive sought to hide not only from their target, but their ally as well. Another earth shaking thunderclap succeeded a bright flash, a lone figure visible on the winding path which led towards the manor - perhaps the disciple had been able to find his way. Patiently Castor knelt on the wet ground - his clothing equally drenched by the torrential downpour as it was the muddied terrain.

[member="Amit Nykoan"] | [member="Irajah Ven"] | [member="Samka Derith"]​

 

[Kuzo]

Though the sound of the rain was almost deafening where it battered against the glass roof of the Solarium, that was where Irajah Ven could be found that evening. She sat on the piano bench, watching the rain. All of the lights but a single lamp were off in the joined library, and while occasionally lightening would illuminate the room, she was content enough to sit in the darkness for the time.

Absently, not really conscious of it, her fingers swept lightly across the keys of the piano. It had been years since she had played, but after a trio of slowly tapped notes, her hands splayed apart and slowly, haltingly, she began to play. Though the rain was much louder than the melody being drawn from the instrument, she closed her eyes, hands gaining confidence on the haunting sequence.

As she neared the end, she slowed, hazel eyes opening slowly in the darkness. As the last note sounded, lightening flashed. For an instant, a heartbeat, she could have sworn she saw a figure outlined on the ridge above the manor. It was just a flash, an impression and just as quickly it was gone.

Her hands froze. Slowly, she rose from the bench, making her way toward the wall of windows. Bare feet were silent on the cool wood of the floor, breath caught for a moment in her throat. Thunder rumbled. Picking her way across the solarium carefully, she stopped just shy of the glass. Reaching out, her fingers paused, hesitant, before the window, bare centimeters from brushing it. Just as her fingertips finally brushed the cold pane, lightening flashed again.

Nothing was on the ridge.

She closed her eyes, shaking her head at herself-

And jumped nearly out of her skin as she turned around to find the Manor's Seneschal standing beside the piano.

"Chit Terin!"

She covered her face with her hands and laughed, though it was not a particularly joyful sound. More one of relief and embarrassment.

The small, almost birdlike man bowed neatly at the waist.

"Apologies my lady. I knocked, but it seems you could not hear me over the storm. There is someone at the door for you. He would not come in, said that it was important that he speak to you first." The slight purse of his lips said that he thought the whole thing was highly improper. Nonetheless, he continued. "I have taken the liberty of sending to the kitchen for hot drinks."

Irajah stifled a smile.

"I'll be there in a minute, Terin," she assured him warmly.

He bowed again, understanding without further words the dismissal.

Irajah paused, glancing back over her shoulder at the wall of glass. And suppressed a small shiver.

​[member="Amit Nykoan"] | [member="Samka Derith"] | [member="Castor Ren"]​

 

[Samka Derith]

The thunderstorms were not contained only to Dosuun. Far away on the jungle world of Virgillia the rain poured and the lightning struck down at the stone Bastion where the Knights of Ren had made their home. Not that the weather was a concern for the newest Master inside the stone temple. Finally, her chambers were soundproof. To Samka Derith, there was no hint of the storms outside. She sat in silence, her small frame reclining in a throne built into the centre of the room, deliberately placed there so any guests to her quarters would immediately find the girl above them, in a position of prestige and power. Grandiose? Perhaps. But there was little doubt in her mind that she had earned it.

Finally she had chambers to decorate as she saw fit. No more of the generic, cold rooms made for Knights and Disciples with little more than a hard bed in the corner and a sink to the side, so little place for personal possessions. Now her new, far larger chambers were regally decorated with fabrics of dark reds and purples draped across the walls and ceiling, barely illuminated by flickering candle lights. Her quarters were separated into the 'throne room' where the collection of personal artefacts and other belongings able to make an intimidating impression were placed and beyond that to the side lay her 'bed room' which now contained a soft king-sized bed and a variety of musical instruments and holo-books to entertain her hobbies unrelated to her work with the Ren. Sam credited the bed with the best night's sleep she had had since leaving her parents at Cloud City.

Her fingers drummed on the side of the throne while her chin rested in the palm of her other hand. Samka was reflecting on a conversation she held with one of the other Masters just a few hours earlier. There had been developments in the Irajah Ven case, apparently the woman had channelled the Force while involved with the fighting at Mustafar. Sam was surprised to hear the Doctor had been active in a warzone, the thought crossed her mind that Irajah could've been just a few miles away as Samka led the Ren in an assault against the Jedi Order who had dared desecrate Darth Vader's Castle. She was more surprised that the Doctor had managed to tap into the Force. Months of working alongside one another and scarcely a hint that the woman was sensitive enough to use the Force for herself.

Technically, this was now below her. A lone, weak, Force Sensitive active in First Order space did not require the attention of a Master of Ren but Samka was determined that she would see this through to the end. As her alter ego, Cassidy, Samka had played the role of Doctor Ven's student understudy on and off again for some time. It was fair to say that Sam understood Irajah at least somewhat. She knew the woman and she respected her. To give the case off to a stranger seemed wrong, a discredit to the Irajah Ven she'd grown somewhat fond of over time. That earnest, hard working yet unjustly suffering individual. To Sam, those traits embodied the sorts of citizens they sought to protect and nurture. Yes, she served the Supreme Leader but why? Because his rule shall bring glory to all those who dwell within his dominions. It is to the prosperity of the people of the First Order which is their ultimate goal. People like Irajah Ven.

So the call had gone out. Castor Ren, a man she trusted without a shadow of a doubt for his loyalty and competence, had received a message with a picture of the Doctor, her home and the coordinates of Blackwater Estate alongside a single sentence of text:

"Bring her to me."

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[member="Irajah Ven"] | [member="Castor Ren"] | [member="Amit Nykoan"]​