A touch of evil

[Razelle Breuner]

Shit. A mute. That was going to complicate things. Though considering how many of these files were marked "Force-sensitive," it could easily have been worse. If the entire room was comprised of psychic freaks then Raz didn't have to worry about communicating with the girl who couldn't speak. They'd have their own super-special-awesome brain conversations and she wouldn't have to bother fitting her with a TTS program or holding a potential field agent in reserve to serve logistics.

Still. How to use an asset without the ability to communicate her findings was...confusing. If Scherezade hadn't immediately taken custody of that snag, it might've weighed on Razelle's mind for six whole minutes. That was six minutes of streamlining this chaotic mess that she wouldn't be doing. Good gods, whoever formed a prototype intelligence outfit without screening potential members or establishing an operational structure was just...utterly unfit for command.

Honestly, though, that was a fantastic way to describe the Confederacy's entire officer caste. "Utterly unfit for command."

Since everyone else seemed eager to get moving and two men had magically appeared out of the woodwork to level out the burgeoning spynet's breeding population, Razelle was free to focus on the important stuff. Which, presently, was some hotshot who thought she was- As she stared at "Hawk," one eyebrow raised, the blonde's face took on a complicated spectrum of expressions. A hot-shot, irreverent new agent with a background in violence. She was almost literally staring at herself, seven hundred years ago, from the other side of the desk.

That made this a little easier. "Trawling for leads," she replied to just one of the half-dozen redheaded "assassins" in attendance. "You got the memo for casual dress, so you're the best option to go pub crawling." Tapping a few times on the terminal in front of her, she flicked her finger to one side to send a profile to Sylvan's datapad. "Local watering hole is called 'Arrakis.' Reports indicate a lot of moderate names in the cartel take their downtime there. Blend, dig, report. Simple."

Don't reply with "like I just said." Don't warn her how awful her life as a super edgy maverick special agent is going to be. Don't get lost in a memory.

As one of the two magically appearing men spoke up, Raz's eyes zipped over to him, then back to her documents. "Oz." Another damn Forcie. What had the galaxy freaking come to when she couldn't even get real agents in a team this size? Way too many Jedi pretending to be spies for her tastes. At least he seemed more comfortable than the myriad tittering chicks pecking about at her ankles. Her tone was even as she responded. "Oz, go with Hawk. I'm sure your winning personality will be invaluable to such a delicate social trapeze act."

It honestly could have been worse. Much worse. She could have been suck with Galactic Alliance intelligence. A few newbies, a half-dozen hotshots, and one or two blessedly agreeable professionals wasn't the worst lot to be working with. As long as she could keep them focused and objective, she could make it work. And, frankly, Scherezade was doing better than she'd hoped. That took a lot of the pressure off.

Att: [member="Kelsie Sylvan"] | [member="Oz Verde"]
Also: [member="Celessa"] | [member="Damien Wynter"] | [member="Scherezade deWinter"] | [member="Shakti Sweet"] | [member="Ingrid L'lerim"] | [member="Ciri Jade"]

 

[Ingrid L'lerim]

Location: Manda | Berejor city
Equipment: Bio link
Actual look: actual look
Tags: [member="Nika Satari"] | [member="Shakti Sweet"] | [member="Veena Reshma"] | [member="Kelsie Sylvan"] | [member="Celessa"] | [member="Scherezade deWinter"] | [member="Ciri Jade"] | [member="Razelle Breuner"] | [member="Damien Wynter"]

---

After she offered her help, Ingrid heard [member="Scherezade deWinter"] ‘s voice in her mind, if she send the message to the Witch too, cause Ingrid was a force sensitive too. She winced just for one moment. That was still new to her; she exactly knows what was that, but she can’t use it. This was different from the cybernetic comlink, what they put into the brain. That was technology, not Force. Much-much easier to understand and use of course. About the question, she shook her head before she tell the answer to the other woman.

”Sorry Ma’am, but I can’t, not yet. I just become force sensitive weeks ago. But I can read perfectly from body language and use or “speak” it too.”

She hoped it will help, but Ingrid knows they not know each other, so this makes it difficult to understand the body language. She tried to think about new alternate opportunities. One could be useful this time.

”By the way… I know all the military signs what the CIS and the CIS’s military units using nowadays.”

Of course, if she didn’t receive the telepathic message, then she just waiting until [member="Scherezade deWinter"] tells the orders. She, and two others who come to her. Still, but maybe another person will join to them.

”Roger that ma’am!” she replied.

If they start to go, she will follow the others to the join to the local liaisons.

 

[Zane DeZorroe]

​

Location: Leaving the building
Equipment: 2 Shoto Lightsabers, Plastoid breast plate.
Tags: [member="Celessa"] [member="Damien Wynter"] [member="Scherezade deWinter"] [member="Kelsie Sylvan"] [member="Shakti Sweet"][member="Razelle Breuner"] [member="Ingrid L'lerim"]

Oz could see Celessa brighten up like a light bulb to him. His infrared vision being able catch it better then anyone here most likely. She seemed a bit timid with her mannerisms. Not what he expected for a secret agents but maybe it was just a facade. He smirked after he reply and watched as she began to leave the room. But before he followed Raz spoke to him about being paired with Hawk now.

"Uh, Sorry guys, looks like I'm on a date with Short-round here." He replied, his tone was quite casual despite his choice of words. Saying that as Celessa walked out he expected to see light up for him possibly.

Following the short women he got into the cramped stairwell with her. His back being hunched down some as to not bump his head constantly like she warned. But then, perhaps to break any silence between them she asked what his name was. He wasn't sure which one was in the reports, either the name he went by, or his birth name. But considering that he believed his birth name was unlucky he'd refer to himself by his second name. "Um, you can call me Oz, Oz Verde, May I have the pleasure of knowing yours?" He replied, and unlike her he didn't really read the reports, plus as far as he could tell everyone in the gathering was human. But he was probably wrong about that.

 

[Kelsie Sylvan]

"Casual dress..." Kelsie let out a small sigh. "Y'know, if you're an infiltrator you might as well dress the part." The young woman's eyes slid away from Razelle, catching a glimpse of a pair of operatives that were leaving. A skin-tight high-tech stealth suit and rifle. An armored breastplate and lightsabers. Did these people not know how to blend in? Kelsie raised her hands and pulled her simple black ball cap a little tighter onto her head. She'd probably disappear from the room entirely in comparison to these flashy people. She didn't mind Scherezade's little outfit, but... still.

It was true -- the two women were thinking along the same lines. They were very, very similar after all. A pair of out-of-time operatives from a better day. Maybe better, but that wasn't the point. Kelsie was getting the right vibes off of the Albatross, and the right wrong ones too. She'd been hoping to have someone smart to watch her back in this place.

She nodded, making a mental note of the name. "Alright. I'll head over to this Arrakis place. You should be able to hook up to the cameras in my glasses -- it's hooked up to the Holonet, too, so you can identify people of interest. Guide me through everything. I'll take care of the... actual interaction." She glanced at Oz as Razelle spoke to him. The young woman raised an eyebrow at that. Once he exited she chuckled to herself. "Please. He'd just slow me down..."

Kelsie straightened her leather jacket out, then looked at Razelle. "Anything else I should keep in mind?"

[member="Razelle Breuner"]

 

[Razelle Breuner]

'Just slow me down.' Yup. She'd heard that line coming out of her own mouth before, too. Razelle was getting far too many flashbacks of the specific (and not nearly so unique as she'd once assumed) chain of events that led her to where she was now. The betrayals. The fear. Hiding for decades from people she should have been relying on. It all played out like a perfect echo. This poor little dear was in for a grand and intoxicating vista of pain.

Hmm. Smartglasses. It'd been a while since Razelle had seen those. Another note to put forward to their brand new expense account, it seemed. She tapped a few times on her screen. "Yup. Got 'em," she replied simply. Anything connected to their wireless network would be easy pickings from here, though she wasn't thrilled about the lack of real cybersecurity. Computers had never been her strongest point. Enough to breach an isolated machine, not enough to webmaster an entire intelligence network.

Her fingers danced across the interface for a moment, bringing up as much information as they had. Right now, it looked like mostly street-level stuff. Names. Faces. Alleged affiliations. Nothing concrete, and nothing that would help them. "We're going into this a little blind. I can give you what we have on these guys as you interact. Depending on what the local five-oh has, we might be able to update our files a little. Won't know until team cops-n-robbers gets moving."

Hotshots. One of them had just overtly ignored her. She supposed that was because there was no established hierarchy...and likely because of Forcehole bravado. Gods, she hated working with Jedi.

Att: [member="Kelsie Sylvan"]
Also: @Celessa | [member="Damien Wynter"] | [member="Scherezade deWinter"] | [member="Shakti Sweet"] | [member="Ingrid L'lerim"] | [member="Ciri Jade"] | [member="Oz Verde"]

 

[Mellifluous Magenta]

Celessa
Post 4
Equipment: CS-21 Combat Stealth Suit (Appearance), ACS-208 Wrist Charric, Flayer Tactical Combat Knife, Murdock Stealth Blaster Rifle, Corvus-type Chronometer, ODM System
Location: Berejor City, Manda - MoS Apartment Block
[member="Oz Verde"] [member="Veena Reshma"]

“Oz? That’s a very hmm...classic name.” Celessa replied as she slowly made her way down the dark stairway. For extra visibility, she decided to pull her helmet over her face so that she could utilize her suit’s low light vision mode. “Mine is Celessa. Just that. No surname.” The diminutive assassin replied.

When she finally made it to the bottom of the stairwell, Celessa made a left down the lower maintenance hallway which led her to a thick door. Once again, Celessa held her chronometer up to a data terminal on the left side of the door. Then, the door slid open to reveal a long and dirty alleyway.

“Follow my IFF signature and act like you’re alone.” Celessa turned towards Oz, before activating her suit’s cloaking device. Her form immediately disappeared before Oz’s eyes as she began to walk down the alleyway and out into the rainy streets. The location where the drug deal was slated to take placed was a thirty minute walk out from the apartment. When the pair arrived at the designated site, Celessa located a few tall dumpsters in close vicinity and moved behind them in order to conceal herself as she uncloaked.

“Now...all we need to do is wait.” Celessa spoke quietly over the comms, as she glanced at her suit’s sensors in order to ascertain the position of the drug dealers...

 

[Scherezade deWinter]

Wearing: Armor| Pathfinder Boots | The Forgemaster's Ring | Ring of Stasis | Sofitor
Wielding: 10 Czerka knives | 2 Nastirci Combat Knives | Copero's Wail | Fire and Smoke (lightsabers) | Combat Gauntlets | Knight Obsidian Sword | 2 Dissuader K-30 Pistols with Glitter Bullets
Mission Partners: [member="Damien Wynter"] [member="Ingrid L'lerim"]
Other Birbs:[member="Kelsie Sylvan"] [member="Nika Satari"] [member="Veena Reshma"] [member="Shakti Sweet"] [member="Razelle Breuner"] [member="Celessa"] [member="Ciri Jade"]

​

She'd paused downstairs, pulling out a tiny bag that contained some cheese cubes for her to snack on while she waited for one of the redheads and whoever else wanted to join her to come down as well. It was god cheese; deep yellow, aged, but without an overtaking stench that many people seemed to dislike. The smelly cheeses – those she kept on her ship.

Looking at [member="Damien Wynter"], she smiled and offered him some cheese cubes as he spoke.

"I usually play it by ear,"[/color" she admitted with a careless shrug, taking another cube for herself as well, "but sure, what you say could work. Don't think I know what your abilities are – do you have the tech to make it happen, or do we need to contact our Albatross for it?"

Looking at [member="Ingrid L'lerim"], she smiled at her as well. No telepathy – "If you need Force training, let me know,", she told her, "Untrained Force User can too easily become a danger… Mostly to themselves." Was the woman untrained? Scherezade didn't exactly know. However, her offer remained. She would train those who needed training with the Force, as long as they didn't expect her to teach them Jedi stuff. On that end, she was useless.

"Let's go," she grinned at her compared, and began to walk toward the morgue. "Any of you know how to slice into a hospital's system? Or got other ideas?" If she were alone, it would've been easier; Scherezade would've in that case just slithered in unnoticed, take a sip of blood, and gotten out before anyone noticed her. But now she had to work in a group – and show that she was capable of it. Team work makes dream work, or something like that. It was a learning experience too; leading a team in the battlefield was easy. This… Was new. She was going to make it work.

"Cheese cube anyone?"

 

[Damien Wynter]

Equipment List​

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Location: Berejor City, Ministry Apartment Hallway​

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Tags: [member="Scherezade deWinter"] [member="Kelsie Sylvan"] [member="Ingrid L'lerim"] [member="Nika Satari"] [member="Veena Reshma"] [member="Shakti Sweet"] [member="Razelle Breuner"] [member="Celessa"] [member="Ciri Jade"]​

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​

Abilities. Spoken like a true saber-jockey. Wouldn't that make life easier, if he could just wave his hand and bend reality to however he saw fit. Geez, if he had that kind of power he definitely wouldn't be here working as a probably underpaid James Bond ripoff right now.​

​

"If you're asking if I can use space magic, that'll be a hard no. I can probably make a body disappear, but I'll need at least six gallons of hydrochloric acid and a can of air freshener. As far as infiltrating the coroner's office, all we'd technically need is someone halfway decent at slicing to get us fake credentials and someone with a bit of charm to talk our way through. I can provide the charm as long as someone else can get us the ID's..."​

​

Damien trailed off as the cheese cubes began to occupy his attention. Much like Brad Pitt in Ocean's Eleven, the assassin was always quite hungry. Not one to pass on an offer of free food, he graciously accepted and quickly devoured the small morsel. Mmmm, not bad. He wondered what animal's milk made the cheese. After giving it a second's consideration, he decided he probably didn't want to know.​

​

"Why exactly do we need this body, anyways? Sorry, I sort of spaced out a bit during the meeting."​

​

​

 

[Kelsie Sylvan]

​

Kelsie reached into her pocket and drew a tiny white case, which she opened up, quickly slipping out a small earpiece which she put in her ear -- a secondary communication device, for use in case she took off her sunglasses. Honestly, wearing these things indoors was a bit of a pain, but she also knew the lights and sounds of a club could be a little disorienting. For now, she'd keep them on. Another small black piece slipped into her hand, and she clipped the miniature microphone onto the inside of her leather jacket.

"Should be connected to an extra comms unit, just in case I take them off. I'll try to keep my glasses on or at least out so you can see what's going on, but no promises." She reached to her left wrist and made sure the small Corvus Chronometer was secure. "As I said, you'll have to focus more on my surroundings. I'll do the talking, I do love conversing with criminals," she said with a grin. "And going in blind does make it a little more exciting."

As the young woman spoke she prepped a suitable 'clubbing' look -- she undid her standard braid and swept her hair to one side, beginning to braid the other side. Hat for the rain, glasses for the cool, a neat leather jacket, jeans, and nerf-hide boots made up a pretty relaxed outfit. Once she was done checking herself over, she put one hand on her hip and the other behind her head, striking a pose for her companion. "How do I look?"

She grinned, not giving Razelle too long a look. She spun on her heel and straightened her jacket. "Too bad, little old me would sure like a date to the club. Guess I'll have to pick someone up there," she said, walking leisurely towards the exit.

Soon enough she was walking in the streets of Berejor -- she'd taken the side exit of the old apartment complex, taking the long way around as if enjoying the sights of Manda. Her glasses outlined the way to the club, but she took her time to let the feel of the neighbourhood settle in. She enjoyed Manda -- after a gig hanging out with a certain Viceroy, she ended up appreciating the place, even though she'd never actually come to Berejor before. Still, the fresh air and that tingling excitement in the back of her mind at the fact she was being watched had her blood pumping.

After several minutes of walking, wandering, meandering and all that, she arrived where the directions had brought her -- the seedy club/bar. A neon sign was slapped above the front, reading 'Arrakis.' Kelsie smiled, then opened the door and stepped inside.

[member="Razelle Breuner"]

 

[Ingrid L'lerim]

Location: Manda | Berejor city
Equipment: Bio link
Actual look: actual look
Tags: [member="Scherezade deWinter"] | [member="Damien Wynter"]

---

She followed the other two person, just smiled when Scherezade pulled out the bag. Ingrid watched [member="Damien Wynter"], he was weird to her. She had never met such a man before. She was sure he was deadly and a good agent. But it was strange something, she didn’t know yet.

Ingrid returned the smile, she didn’t know, but maybe she tells about herself too much to the other woman. [member="Scherezade deWinter"] just want to help her, but Ingrid didn’t sure this thing. She always was mistrustful, just like now. Especially because, the Force is the topic again, this was a very new thing to her, something is hard to understand.

This was not technology, it’s mystical. She never believed such things, of course she knew the Force exist, but it was witchcraft or something like that to her. Nothing evident, until the accident, what change everything to her. Thence she can’t kept herself away from the Force thing, or the force users. She knew it was dangerous, but she needed to accept this. This was different as if she born with it. She didn’t want it, just happened when she was an adult woman…

”Thank you for your kindness ma’am” she replied. ”But, Darth Tacitus will start my training soon.

Of course she didn’t know well her emperor either, but he was her emperor, she can’t tell no to him. She followed her partners when they start to go. Cheese? She was surprised, but not showing this. She looked at the mentioned cheese, and shakes her head.

”No thanks, about the hospital, maybe, but I can't guarantee the success… but, it worth the try, if we don’t have a better idea. If the system didn’t have strong firewall I can do it, or in the spaceport, on my ship I have an astrodroid, I can call it to the hospital and we let the droid do the hardest part. They are faster than us in slicing.

If it ok for the others, she will calling RQ.

 

[Scherezade deWinter]

Wearing: Armor| Pathfinder Boots | The Forgemaster's Ring | Ring of Stasis | Sofitor
Wielding: 10 Czerka knives | 2 Nastirci Combat Knives | Copero's Wail | Fire and Smoke (lightsabers) | Combat Gauntlets | Knight Obsidian Sword | 2 Dissuader K-30 Pistols with Glitter Bullets
Mission Partners: [member="Damien Wynter"] [member="Ingrid L'lerim"] | [member="Razelle Breuner"]
Other Birbs: [member="Kelsie Sylvan"] [member="Nika Satari"] [member="Veena Reshma"] [member="Shakti Sweet"] [member="Celessa"] [member="Ciri Jade"]

​

Space magic? Scherezade shook her head, though she let Damien continue speaking. The word abilities implied so much more than that; not everyone could use the Force as she could, but that did not make people expendable or useless. She'd seen on more than few occasions those without the Force outperform those with it, and she wasn't about to assume anything on that front.

Fake credentials were the easy part.

"Albatross," she said into her comdevice as she sent her godmother [member="Razelle Breuner"] the request, "need a sec of your time. Three fake datas for me and the two lovely people with me. I'll take Feyre Darling again, the other two can have whatever. Give us clearance to the hospital and we'll be gold."

If Raz couldn't do it… Scherezade had other means of getting them in, but they would take more time and by default, more potential danger. Getting someone else to get the fake ID's thing happening from a distance was a safer bet than trying to mess with NPC-minds only to discover that one of them somehow turned out to be a PC you could not control. Fun times. Then again, it was very possible that their red-head (yup, Ingrid was from now on and until the end of the mission their redhead) would be able to conjure something via slicing as well.

As to why they needed the body… "I need to ride the body's blood," she explained with a non-apologetic smile, "I am a Blood Hound. It comes with certain perks when it comes to things that include blood. If I have a sip of yours I'll be able to see your last few seconds through your eyes. I'm hoping we can gain more information about the whole who dun it and maybe the why dun it that way."

Another turn, another block, they were nearly there. Only then did something Ingrid mention echo through Scherezade's mind.

Scherezade stopped frozen, looking at her redhead with a shocked face as realization began to dawn on her. It was perhaps moments later that she shook her head and quickly closed the distance between them.

"Be careful with that man," she said quietly, hoping that Damien would not hear it, but not caring too much if he did, "I was not too long ago a broken, wretched thing. Kainan offered to help me. To train me. To adopt me." Her voice was hoarse now, and she permitted some of the pain that had engulfed her during those dark months to come out. It was not pain that had finished healing. There were wounds within her that could never heal. "But that offer came with a price," she resumed, "And that price was to kill the only two people whom I'd ever loved. Do not fall for his tricks."

It took a few more moments before Scherezade collected herself, the glow of her eyes returning, the smile coming back with them as well.

"Almost at the hospital!" she said cheerfully.

 

[Zane DeZorroe]

​

Location: Da Streets
Equipment: 2 Shoto Lightsabers, Plastoid Breast Plate
Tags: [member="Celessa"] [member="Veena Reshma"] [member="Nika Satari"]

The Arkanian followed and listened to the small women. He wondered why she had no surname. From his time as a slave that was a common practice when renaming a slave, not giving them a last name. Since Oz was a little more prized he was given one. He wondered if Celessa had some sort of background with slavery like him. Like a kind of kinship.

As they got out and into the ally way, Oz seemed very unfazed by the rain. Not paying it any kind of mind. Oz simply nodded to her as she spoke about how to follow her. However, with his inferred vision he was able to see some of her left behind heat as she moved. But she was still pretty much invisible to him. With her being more like an apparition for him it was pretty easy for him to play into the roll of someone who was alone.

On the way to the site he would work on concealing his small lightsaber hilts. It being all the more easy since they were shotos. He looked more like a practitioner of scum and villainy in the galaxy, namely a the bounty hunter kind. But the dealers shouldn't worry so long they know they don't have bounties. As he got into position to wait for the dealers to arrive he would hang tight and listen to Celessa over the comm. "Copy that..." He replied, speaking rather softly into his own comm.

 

[Nika Satari]

Location: The depressing streets of Berejor
Equipment: All the spice
Tags: [member="Celessa"] [member="Oz Verde"]

Spice, Chuggers Chaw, Death sticks, you name it Borz had it. The scrupulous Bothan dealer liked to think he had a personal touch on what was popular in the narcotics trade, with the value of spice going up rampantly as the local competition and demand for it in CIS space grew with each passing week. He had carved a nice niche for himself since getting out of the Borghara prison complex on Bothan in the past year.

Things had long changed since the black sun once held prominence on Manda, he didn't have to worry all that much about the block-headed louts the Falleen criminals used to send his way to ask for tithe. And yet somewhere deep in the old Bothans long departed soul, he much preferred them to the new group in town. At least the black suns thugs were honest, brutal, but honest. The other group would happily make you disappear and leave your dismembered corpse for your relatives to find if you made any move perceived as going against them. The thought made Borz shudder.

He was going on his usual route this typically dreary day, no rain no matter how heavy or depressing would stop him from getting his profit. He sometimes wondered if Berejor could become anymore grey and depressing than it was, the city streets always cast in some despondent gloom that permuted the very air and atmosphere of the city and its people.


No wonder demand never ceased around here.

Borz scuttled to his usual meetup spot, stopping only momentarily to hug a nearby wall as a local law enforcement speeder flew past. After a few limpid seconds went by Borz continued his walk over to the spot.

Where the kark are they?

 

[Damien Wynter]

Equipment List​

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Location: Berejor City​

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Tags: [member="Scherezade deWinter"] [member="Ingrid L'lerim"]​

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Damien was happily munching on his cheese cube until the phrase "ride the body's blood" left Scherezade's lips. He paused mid-chew, gaping at the woman with a not-so-subtle look of horror on his face. He probably shouldn't be surprised, seeing as how most Sith seemed to have similar quirks that made them a few leagues shy of what he would call "normal". Still, drinking others' blood was a bit kinky, even for him. He'd have to keep on eye on her in the hospital.​

​

His hand subconsciously made its way to his neck in an unwitting attempt to protect his jugular from an unlikely attack. "I think I'll have to pass on that one, maybe some other time. Geez, at least buy me dinner first." His tone still carried the same feelings of confidence and looseness as before, but now with a barely-noticeable undertone of caution. He was dealing with dangerous people here, he'd need to keep that in the back of his mind.​

​

After a couple minutes, however, his wariness turned to a sort of fascination not dissimilar to a child's attitude after their parents giving them the "talk". ​"So what if you accidentally bit your own lip? Would you just, like, have a stroke or something? Or what if you had a really rare steak? I bet that'd turn you vegan real quick."​

​

As he continued listing off abstract circumstances that would test Scherezade's ability in a dizzying number of ways, she broke off from him and began whispering something to the ginger chick they were with. It was obvious that he wasn't meant to hear what was being said, which of course compelled him to eavesdrop even more. He was a spy, after all. Information was his trade.​

​

As they finished speaking, Damien let out an audible sigh. He wasn't usually wasn't one of the most serious people in the Galaxy, but sometimes he'd hear or see something that warranted a bit of unsolicited wisdom on his part. This was one of those instances. "Look, if someone told me to kill one of the few loved ones I have left they'd get a bullet to the head. Maybe that's just me, but I really don't get space magician logic sometimes. If someone tells you to do something bad, it's probably bad. They're probably bad. So why associate yourself with that? It depends on your priorities I suppose, but take it from me. There's no power in the Galaxy that can fill the void left by a lost loved one." It was a no-brainer for him, of course. He'd do anything to get his father back, even lay down his own life if he had to. Maybe other people just didn't see it that way. "Either way, if you ever want this guy dead you've got my number." He skillfully twirled the powerblade between his fingers as if to make a point.​

​

His attention would return to the matter at hand as they approached the hospital. The coat he was wearing wasn't exactly hospital-grade stuff, but it'd have to do. It would probably hide that fact that he was a highly-trained assassin, but convincing the employees that he was supposed to be there would require a bit of charm.​

​

Luckily for them, he had lots of charm.​

​

 

[Ingrid L'lerim]

Location: Manda | Berejor city
Equipment: Bio link
Actual look: actual look
Tags: [member="Scherezade deWinter"] | [member="Damien Wynter"]

---

Bloodhound, never heard that phrase before, so she want to hear what is this. Fortunately, deWinter tells Damien what is the phrase mean. Of course Ingrid listened the explanation. When she heard that she didn’t know what she thinks about this. She supposed this thing comes from the Force again. And here it again, the topic about she didin’t know nothing, or less than nothing.

When she tell Darh Tacitus’s names Ingrid saw stopping her, and deWinter’s face, already know they have a past. And that “past” is not good. Now she know she was right. Ingrid always knew the Eternal Empire is more extremist, than CIS, and their ruler too. But what Scherezade tells… that was the way of the Dark side? Or just Tacitus’s methods? She didn’t know yet, but there was no doubts she will, soon!

”I see, sorry for your loss. In fact he “made” me force sensitive, it was an accident, some kind of experiment. But he is my emperor and my liege, I can’t said no to him. Thank you for the advice, I’ll keep in my mind.” she replied quietly.

It seems to her, they were very different. Maybe she not looked cold, but she was. She could kill her friends or love ones if the CIS, or the Eternal Empire require this. With no remorse, no regret. Her training, what Ingrid parents wanted, formed her into war machine. She smiled Damien’s words, he heard what the girls talking.

”You maybe, but I’m not, I’m a professional killer, who trained to kill. If my orders are to killing my love ones, I’m not said it would be easy, but I always finish my job. Even if I needed to kill my family. You can judge me, but that was not my choice.”

Once heard the people with red hair has no soul. Maybe they was right, especially about her. She turned her head from Damien and Scherezade.

”If you want to kill him, I need to stop you. It’s not a threat, just warning.” tells to him.

When they are close to the hospital, her full attention focus on the actual job, not the topics what they were talking before. Just the hospital, and the current mission. When they are really arrived, she going to assess the area. Ingrid hoped the enemy is not waiting them and this is not a trap.

 

[Scherezade deWinter]

Wearing: Armor| Pathfinder Boots | The Forgemaster's Ring | Ring of Stasis | Sofitor
Wielding: 10 Czerka knives | 2 Nastirci Combat Knives | Copero's Wail | Fire and Smoke (lightsabers) | Combat Gauntlets | Knight Obsidian Sword | 2 Dissuader K-30 Pistols with Glitter Bullets
Mission Partners: [member="Damien Wynter"] [member="Ingrid L'lerim"] | [member="Razelle Breuner"]
Other Birbs: [member="Kelsie Sylvan"] [member="Nika Satari"] [member="Veena Reshma"] [member="Shakti Sweet"] [member="Celessa"] [member="Ciri Jade"]

​

Scherezade laughed as Damien moved to protect his neck. She did not detect that undertone, but she was usually really bad about getting jokes too, which only left her with the option of answering him with full seriousness. "Blood Hound, not a vampire," she explained briefly, "Blood Hound is a Force Affinity. Vampire… Race, I suppose? There's a bunch of different types of those running around. I don't need the blood to sustain me and I find the taste abhorrent. But I'm not going to deny a useful ability just because my taste buds don't like it."

A moment later, there was another question. This time though, Damien managed to draw a chuckle out of Scherezade. "My own blood has no effect on me," she said, "and I eat most of my meat borderline blue. Never had visions about the bantha's life because of it. I'd never turn vegan though, meat makes up most of my diet and I hate breads and veg."

Turning her attention back to Ingrid, her eyes widenig as she listened to what the woman had to say about Tacitus…. Making her into a Force Sensitive? No… That wasn't how the Force worked. You couldn't just do that unless he built her from scratch, like a Sithspawn.

"Your emperor and liege lied to you," she stated, matter-of-fact, "One cannot be made Force Sensitive. That's not how any of it works. Anyone who tells you differently is trying to sell you something."

But if he was her Emperor… That meant that Ingrid was part of the Eternal Empire. A close and cold 'Empire' that included exactly one planet, where life was entirely surrounded around military service. Scherezade loved the weather on that planet, but the rest of it could burn for eternity as far as she was concerned.

Listening to the two speak of killing loved ones, Scherezade said nothing at first. Damien and Ingrid offered opposing views, one having no qualms about it, the other one refusing to do so. And sooner than anticipated, the conversation took a flow into killing [member="Darth Tacitus"]. Scherezade let out a bitter laugh. No. She knew from reports that the man had died on Eshan, yet was not truly dead. There would be a time and a place for her to kill everyone who added to her misery like that, everyone who had done so while not enjoying the protection of her love.

"We're not killing him today," she finally said, bringing that conversation to an end, "focus on this mission. Killing the big people like Tacitus is not something you can do on a whim, anyway."

And if Damien ended up doing it, she hoped he would have the sense to keep Ingrid and her like away from where it was going to happen. Far away, like on the other side of the galaxy. A bunch of the Birds might have seemed meek, weak even. But none of them were. Each of them was a Swiss Army Knife of ways to kill people.

The three had reached the hospital in the meantime. There was still no word from [member="Razelle Breuner"], so they were going to have to improvise. Unlike her mission partners, Scherezade stood out. It was sort of her thing, as recently explained in another thread. But right now, that would not serve them.

Hospitals. Right. Morgues were usually in the back, with special connections to the parking lots to make sure bodies were brought and removed swiftly and with as little exposure to living people as possible. So… They had to walk all the way around to the back and then find an entrance through the parking lot. It might not have been the quickest way to go about it, but it sure was the way that would expose them to as few people as possible.

It didn't take long before they were actually there. "Just follow my lead," Scherezade said with a little smile before she reached forth with the Force, taking over the minds of the guards that were standing by the doors. It was an entrance for special personnel. These three… Were definitely not. Nothing seemed to happen at first, yet within minutes they began to nod off, losing balance, preferring to take seats instead of keep standing. A few more minutes after that and they were sound asleep.

Scherezade waved her hand again, and to all three of them, the vision changed a little, as though someone had placed darkened sunglasses on their faces. "We're essentially shadows to the naked eye right now," she explained in a hushed voice, "stick close to me, and walk close to the walls. It's an illusion, but it can easily be shattered by others without them even meaning to."

And now they would go inside.

 

[Damien Wynter]

Equipment List​

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Location: Berejor City, Hospital​

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Tags: [member="Scherezade deWinter"] [member="Ingrid L'lerim"]​

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The young assassin raised a skeptical eyebrow at the red-haired Sith's response. He knew many professional killers. Hell, he himself was one. Just because someone was a killer-for-hire didn't mean they would have to go so far as killing a family member. He knew plenty of assassins who would never do so much as lay a finger on a loved one, and he also knew a few who had murdered family members and weren't contract killers at all. No, that sort of thing was a hallmark of someone with a special sort of apathy, someone who only truly cared about power above all else.​

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A Sith.​

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Damien shrugged. He had offered his services, best he could do was try. If this Sith lady was content with living that kind of life then who was he to intervene?​

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He then turned his attention to Scherezade. "Right. Focus. Sorry, I get a bit chatty on missions like this. Say, there was this one time on Ord Mantell when I accidently ate a raw..." His voice trailed off as Vlad Dracula Jr. announced their plan. Force invisibility, nice. It was a strange sensation for him as a non Force user, he simply wasn't used to doing such things without the assistance of technology. He had to admit, it was a pretty neat feeling.​

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Damien watched as the security guard slowly fell at the whim of Scherezade's space magic. It was times like these that he really appreciated being an Epicanthix, as the thought of someone manipulating his mind as he stood powerless to resist was something that deeply disturbed him. He drew his knife from its sheath, sliding it up his sleeve for quick access. If they encountered a situation where they faced hostility it'd be best to deal with it quickly and silently. Blaster fire would cause too much commotion, and if the Sith drew their lightsabers he didn't even want to think about the publicity that would cause for the Ministry.​

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He silently followed Scherezade's lead, sticking close to the wall as they moved into the building.​

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[Ingrid L'lerim]

Location: Manda | Berejor city
Equipment: Bio link
Actual look: actual look
Tags: [member="Scherezade deWinter"] | [member="Damien Wynter"]

---

Little more information about the “Blood Hound” this, if she ever had more time with Scherezade, maybe she’ll ask her for more detail. But not now, now the job is the most important. Top prior. But the topic of her force sensitive was take an interesting direction. She raised her eyebrow.

He lied? Of course Ingrid didn’t well known her Emperor, [member="Darth Tacitus"], but he looked polite and… It doesn’t matter, he was a sith, Ingrid know that well, and one thing she learned; maybe she didn’t know well the Force, well, didn’t knowing, but she did, she never trust in a sith. So that was the problem, Scherezade was a sith too. She was? Maybe. Ingrid nods Scherezade’s words.

”I was examined when I was born I was not Force Sensitve, and no one in my family are neither. But I am now… she replied.”So I don’t know what I believe. After this mission if you have a time, we can speak about this? I would be pleased if I can hear someone else opinion.

She was lot of questions, and maybe [member="Scherezade deWinter"] tells to her something other than her Emperor. The logomachy was ended when Scherezade “split between them”. She was nod again shortly.

”You’re right, I’m sorry too she tells that both the woman, and Damien too.

She wants to go forward to secure the area, but Scherezade’s voice stopped her. She was the senior now, and the force user, she might have few tricks. And she was, Ingrid allowed herself a smile and followed silently the other woman’s lead. She sneaked close to the wall and Scherezade as well.

 

[Scherezade deWinter]

Wearing: Armor| Pathfinder Boots | The Forgemaster's Ring | Ring of Stasis | Sofitor
Wielding: 10 Czerka knives | 2 Nastirci Combat Knives | Copero's Wail | Fire and Smoke (lightsabers) | Combat Gauntlets | Knight Obsidian Sword | 2 Dissuader K-30 Pistols with Glitter Bullets
Mission Partners: [member="Damien Wynter"] [member="Ingrid L'lerim"] | [member="Razelle Breuner"]
Other Birbs: [member="Kelsie Sylvan"] [member="Nika Satari"] [member="Veena Reshma"] [member="Shakti Sweet"] [member="Celessa"] [member="Ciri Jade"]

Yes. After the mission, the two women would be able to speak.

Scherezade carefully moved forward, her mission partners with her. The shadows she'd provided them through the Force proved effective enough; a few people walked by them, causing her to halt both herself and the others, but no one came close enough for the glamour to drop. Their advance was slower than she would've preferred, needing to stop every so often to avoid bumping into other people in that level of the hospital, and there were a few wrong twists and turns taken. After all, she did not know this hospital, and neither did her partners. It would've been easier and smoother if a certain someone had been answering the comms and given a guiding help, but they would have to do without.

After what seemed like a life time though, they'd arrived. The Morgue.

And of course, the door was very locked. Scherezade wished she had a holographic disguise on her. The shadows wouldn't do much if they were going to open a door where people could see it opening or closing. The Crow looked over the security. They were going to need a hand… Or someone who knew how to bypass such systems.

"Anyone got anything?" she asked, looking at the other to.

 

[Damien Wynter]

Equipment List​

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Location: Berejor City, Hospital​

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Tags: [member="Scherezade deWinter"] [member="Ingrid L'lerim"]​

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So, it seemed they had run into a problem not even the Force could solve. Luckily for them, Damien had learned a few things growing up on the streets that could be applied in situations like these. He glanced down the hallway, waiting a few moments to ensure nobody was looking their way before stepping out into the open and out of Scherezade's stealth magic thingy. The assassin had been observing the camera placement ever since they had entered the building, meaning he knew approximately where the cameras' blind spots were so as not to be seen seemingly appearing out of nowhere. Hands in his pockets, Damien set off down the corridor with his eyes on the floor so as to completely blend in with everyone else there. Nobody would think much of him, probably just some lad visiting a sick family member. In his pocket was a bit of clear film he always kept with him for situations like these. It was hardly noticeable and very good at picking up fingerprints if used correctly, something he had grabbed on the Corellian black market some time ago. It hadn't failed him before, hopefully it would still do him justice here.​

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He approached one of the white-coated doctors standing idly in the hallway typing away on his expensive-looking datapad. Bingo. He applied the thin film to his right hand, simultaneously evaluating his mark. Watch on his right wrist, must be left-handed. Keycard's in the left pocket then, if I had to bet. It was time to make his move. It was an exercise he had performed hundreds of times, yet it still got his heart pumping each time he did it. Damien 'accidentally' bumped right in to the man, all the while quickly snatching the keycard from his pocket. Score. However, the keycard wasn't all he'd need.​

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"Oh sorry about that bud," he said to the confused-looking doctor. Damien used his best local accent, speaking very quickly to give off the impression of someone who was maybe a bit too friendly and didn't have a good sense of personal boundaries. "Hey, you know where the men's room is by any chance? Had one bottle too many of Moof Juice, if you know what I mean. Name's Joel, by the way." He grabbed the man's hand in a sort of forced handshake, hopefully enough to lift a print.​

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Recovering from his confusing, the doctor pulled his hand away in a gesture of obvious discomfort. "Ah, yes, the restrooms should be right around the corner to your left." He eyed Damien with a look of subtle contempt, subconsciously wiping his hand off on the side of his jacket.​

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"Sweet, thanks man. Have a good one!" He gave the man a lazy salute before strolling off towards the restroom, hands in pockets once again. He didn't like acting anywhat out of the ordinary, and certainly wasn't fond of leaving an impression that was likely to be somewhat memorable. However, he knew he'd need the man's fingerprints and they were pressed for time. He walked past the bathrooms and looped his way back to where his compatriots were waiting. The only issue in their way now was the security camera watching the door. Key cards or not, someone would notice if they entered the morgue. That is, of course, if he didn't cause a distraction first.​

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He walked up to where his teammates were standing (or at least where they were standing when he left them), leaning up against the wall inconspicuously. Keeping his voice at barely a whisper, he spoke to whichever of the women was standing next to him. "Reach into my right pocket. There's a keycard in there. Then peel the film off of my right hand, it has a set of fingerprints on it that should allow access along with the card. I'll give a distraction, wait until then to open the door. Move quickly, I'll meet you outside afterwards. Good luck."​

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He would wait for someone to retrieve the card and the fingerprints, then reached into his left pocket to retrieve a rubber ball. Sometimes, in their line of work, the simplest tools were the best ones to work with. He began by casually bouncing it off the opposing wall, reminiscent of a bored little kid waiting for his mom to finish cooking dinner. Then, with an especially powerful throw, he ricocheted it off the wall to bounce back and hit the camera fixed to the wall behind him. It was a perfect distraction, really. It would give the camera a few moments of fuzzy feedback, more than enough time for them to slide through the door unseen. Plus, nobody in their right mind would think Damien hit the camera on purpose. It took a tremendous amount of skill and coordination, not something many people possessed.​

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"Now."​

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As they made their way into the room, Damien continued playing the part. He grabbed his ball like an ashamed teenager and shuffled off down the hallway keen to avoid any more attention.​

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Retrieving the body was in their hands now.​

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