Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos

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Abstruse Interference [Ivy]

Despite the fact that it was his personal diary, General Vaas began every entry the same way. Some habits would never die, especially ones that had been quite literally programmed into his brain.

DATA ENTRY
TIME: 22:32:30
CLASSIFICATION: Commentary

What would have been an otherwise normal day has brought ominous forebodings. I shake to even describe such things here, and as one can see, I am awake far past my usual appointed time for sleep. I should be asleep right now, preparing for tomorrow's dealings, but sleep as yet eludes me. The weight of the matter on my shoulders is keeping me up, and what's worse, I can't escape the feeling of the signals in my mind.

Today started out like any other, and perhaps if I describe the menial tasks of my day, I will become drowsy and sleep will mercifully find me. Kalast and I had a meeting in the morning to discuss the outfitting of Stormtrooper rifles for future campaigns. I discussed the issue of some of the newer Sonn-Blas models not having proper electronics for certain load clips, and the fact that the prototype F-11K rifle needs specially made energy clips could be doing our Troopers a great disservice on the battlefield, where ammunition can run short in prolonged engagements. In my own time in the field, I frequently had to rely upon salvaging energy clips from fallen enemy soldiers. I brought this point up to the Supreme Commander when we were discussing whether or not to commision the F-11K for service.

Yet the worst of it would soon follow. I had to excuse myself from the meeting prematurely, due to feeling it again. The feeling was unmistakable. Encoded signals were being sent to my brain once again via the containment membrane implanted in my head, though the codes were garbled and meaningless. Which can only mean one thing; someone has found my cerebral encoder. If my suspicions are indeed true, then it will be my worst fears come to life. For all these years I wandered the galaxy with this fear omnipresent in the back of my mind, knowing that my past history with the One Sith was never truly and properly erased, and that despite my best efforts, I was never given the time or the opportunity to track down and destroy my encoder. Yet these fears gradually recessed with the passing of time, until now.

I realize I am rambling, but there is little else I can do. Until I find the perpetrator, I am completely at the mercy of whoever possesses the device, and with such gnawing fear I cannot even function properly. I had to feign illness to excuse myself from the meeting with Kalast, and I rushed out of the room so quickly to prevent myself from spasming wildly in his sight that Kalast almost certainly has grown suspicious of me for undue reason. I have spent the rest of the day searching for answers to this horrific turn of events, but so far, nothing I can think of provides a solution. It's even worse knowing that whoever now holds the device could be literally anyone. A lunatic from the One Sith finally exacting his revenge upon me, or a mere child with a shiny new plaything? The situation is maddening.

I have decided to admit defeat. To prevent myself from further madness, I shall immediately take two narc injections.

Until tomorrow.

-END DATA ENTRY-
 
..N..O..N..L..E..T..H..A..L..
"I thought I made this perfectly clear."

There was a time and a place for these sorts of things. A time and a place. This was neither the right time nor was it anywhere close to being the right place and as Ivy glared through clenched jaw and narrowed eyes at the heathen that stood before her she became immediately aware that these were the sorts of events that brought back the human nature of the equation.

"I swear to god, Jet, if I catch you I will make you rue the day we met."

Wad of towels in hand, the Merc tossed them to the floor and stamped a booted foot down, helping them soak up what was one of the largest piles of piss she'd had to clean up after this damn blackstalker yet.

"Dubrillion! That was an hour ago! An hour..." the woman growled, iliciting a rumbling snarl from the creature as it hunkered down in the hallway watching her clean, "don't you fething snarl at me. Hat-ka!" With a yip at the command it bounded to clawed feet and slinked off to its room down the hall. "Go find one of your old bones because you're not getting a new one!"


"Feth this is vile..."


Beeeooooo.

A green light blinked from the bridge visible through the open doorway at her back. Already irritated, the woman tossed another towel on the mess before turning and making her way in, slamming a hand down on the communications console to answer the incoming call, "Hazel Scheler."

"Miss Scheler, this is Alrond Garrell. I've received your package..."

"You say that like there's a problem. I sent that man to you in one piece just as the job detailed."

"Rather more alive than I was hoping for."

"You knew from the start what sort of Merc I am. You didn't specify dead. I delivered, am I going to have to come collect my payment in person, Mr. Garrell?"

"That won't be necessary. Your payment has been wired, however I have another job for you."

"I'm listening."

"I need you to go back to his home and clean house of his protocol droid and any computers or datapads you can find. I need everything, Miss Scheler, down to the very last datachip."

Ivy inhaled deeply, rubbing at her eyes, "This better be worth my while."

"If you collect the information I'm looking for it will be more than worth it. Will you take the job or do I need to find another Merc?"

"No, I'll take it."

"I'll need you to bring everything in person this time, I can't risk someone intercepting the information. Discretion, Miss Scheler."

"Right."

[member="Ludolf Vaas"]
 
[member="Ivy Lasranae"]

Ludolf had deduced that the signals were coming in at specified intervals. By his calculation, once every seven hours. Which meant that it was exactly three minutes and thirty seconds until the next one was due.

This time, he would be prepared.

Vaas surmised that this could be due to a number of reasons. Either there was someone on the other end of his cerebral controller deliberately trying to send him directives, or somehow either through mishandling or interference, the encoder was malfunctioning and sending him one message in chunks. This seemed to be the more likely scenario, as Ludolf had begun recording the messages on his datapad for posterity. Standard communications were always marked with a starting date and ended with the communicator's name and location, according to the transponder built into the device. The first message included the date but did not end with any location, leading Ludolf to believe that at any time now, he would receive the last communication in the batch, and if he could decipher the coordinates from the jumbled garbage, he could discover the encoder's location. It was as easy as that... in theory.

Two minutes and two seconds...

The General sat anxiously at the circular table with the other military leaders of the First Order, a large holoprojector in the middle of the table between them. He was not his usual self today, instead remaining silent. He had never before experienced this level of anxiety in public; his mental conditioning usually suppressed his amygdala to such a degree that these emotions were completely foreign to him. A black-gloved hand wiped a bead of sweat from his brow that he hoped no one else noticed.

Forty-five seconds...

"Excuse me, gentlemen," Ludolf said calmly, and pushed himself up from his seat and turned on his heels to stride out of the room. It was the first time he had ever excused himself before a briefing was finished. If the other Generals didn't know that something was the matter, they surely would now. Vaas cursed under his breath, and as soon as the door closed behind him, he broke out into a full sprint.

Twenty seconds...

Rushing to unfurl the datapad in his sleeve pocket, Vaas barreled and ducked into the nearest lavatory, practically prying the durasteel door open himself and not waiting for its automatic slide. Fortunately, he was the only one present. Breathing a momentary sigh of relief, he immediately cloistered himself in one of the latrines and clutched the datapad with white knuckles, waiting for it to happen.

Five seconds...

"Aaaaaaaaaagghhh!"

Veins bristled in his forehead as Ludolf's arms and legs splayed out in all directions, banging against the latrine walls, and he had to fight to bring his hands together again. Information began surging into his head, meaningless encoded numbers pumping into his brain, but beneath them was a message. Ludolf's thumbs began furiously typing away on the datapad, recording every number sent to his mind. The surge continued, until he was left with a singular code at the end of the transmission that he immediately determined to be location coordinates. his brain worked furiously to translate as darkness began to overtake his eyelids.

Coordinates.... M-12.... approximate planet... Byblos...

Ludolf sunk to the ground inside the latrine, passing out.
 
..N..O..N..L..E..T..H..A..L..
Byblos

An interesting planet if ever there was one. Ivy imagined this to be what Coruscant would look like if its people actually cared about the filth in the lower levels. The cityscape of Byblos gleamed in what was a lovely morning sunrise, all pink and peach and purples setting glasteel skyrises ablaze. Soft saffron light filtered in through the bridge viewport, burning at the eyes of a woman who was more well adjusted to the nightlife and dankly lit halls of backwater space stations.

"Isn't that pretty..." Ivy engaged the tinting of the viewport before cutting down across skylanes, fuzzy memories of her job a week ago filtering in through the fog of many sleepless nights. The bite and hiss of a stimshot felt better with each and every use.

R. B. Weitz was a meek man that put up very little fight in the end. He had the look in his eyes of expectation - somehow he knew that one day something or someone was going to catch up to him. Ivy had no idea why he'd been fated so cruelly, nor did she have any clue why Mr. Garrell had any need for the man, dead or alive ... or what he planned on doing with him now that he had him. What she did know was this: Weitz wasn't a rich man, evident enough by the blue collar apartment complex she'd found him in, and he seemed to be running from his past. Or hiding. Ivy could appreciate the need on a personal level, but this wasn't personal at all.

It was just business.

She returned to the landing pads of that same complex and departed from her ship, squinting up into the sunlight. It looked much richer in the daylight but that made little difference to her present needs. Jet in his working harness attached to an alchemized black leather leash the pair stepped in, all armored and official.

[member="Ludolf Vaas"]
 
How his cerebral controller ended up on Byblos, Ludolf couldn't venture seven hells of a guess.

In any case, his search had led him here. A rather modest-looking apartment complex here in the city, the pristine skyline going completely unnoticed by Ludolf as he was hellbent on his mission. He had triangulated the frequency to this exact location... or something close to it. Of course, being trained in the ways of a Sith Empire operative, he hadn't simply parked his ship in the landing pad outside and waltzed through the front door. No, that was strictly against protocol, and worse, tactless. He had repelled down the side of the building using a standard-issue Stormtrooper grappling hook, and lasered through one of the transparisteel windows using a fancy gadget that was standard-issue for First Order operatives. General Vaas had come on this mission prepared, and being a General of the First Order and having access to a full armory of weapons had its perks, of course.

The place was a mess. Ludolf scrunched his nose at the disorganization of it all, and when it was apparent that no one was home, gave an audible sigh. It would take him hours to find his cerebral controller in this mess. What was this person? Some kind of junk collector or pawn broker? Judging by the disheveled state of his living quarters, the fool probably had no idea what he had stumbled upon when he had somehow found Ludolf's cerebral controller.

Ludolf heard a door sliding open.

Grabbing his blaster pistol, Vaas moved toward the doorway and pressed himself against the wall, peeking around the corner to see the visage of the doorway. So... the junk collector was a woman? And with a rather strange pet, to boot. Well, she would certainly be surprised to find him here, Ludolf thought. But unexpected surprises happened to be one of his specialties. He pivoted into the hallway, instantly leveling his blaster pistol at [member="Ivy Lasranae"]'s head.

"You will tell me where it is. And if you don't know which it I'm referring to in this garbage heap you call a home, you're going to help me find it. Now." Ludolf commanded from across the hallway, while wincing and holding his ear with his free hand.

His head was killing him.
 
..N..O..N..L..E..T..H..A..L..
"Hey, woah!"

An exclamation required for both the beast now lunging at the end of its leash and the man making ready to paint the walls with shrapnel and brainmatter. Hazel had an inkling it would take a few shots at least to do that, given the nature of her protective armor, but she wasn't about to test the boundaries of something that might not hold up as well as she thought. She rather liked her brain where it was, the prettiness of her scarred face notwithstanding.

A heavy yank was given on the leash to the blackstalker but no command was given to temper the beast that made to lunge again, fangs snapping and saliva flying every which way.

"Calm down, alright? You don't need to be pointing that thing at me. I got exactly what you're looking for. It's right here," she pointed a gloved and gauntleted hand at her hip, "in this holder on my belt. I'm gonna reach for it now, alright? Don't mind my dog, he's fething nutzo. Just...stay calm..." the armored woman produced a small metallic item that fit in the palm of her hand. It looked like holocron.

"...it's inside this," she held it up between thumb and forefinger for him to see, "I'm going to set it on this table here, alright? Then I'll step back and you come take it. I don't want any trouble. I've had a long day...I just want to get a beer and get out of my armor."

Clink. The item settled on a small wooden table where a stack of holomail sat unopened. Rancorous dog still snarling and pulling at his leash, she wrapped the tether once more around her other hand to shorten her hold on it and took several steps back away from the doorway, booted feet sliding into a stance that suggested she didn't think he'd leave without some sort of trouble. Shoulders hunched she looked ready to run, needs be.

"It's all yours. Just...take it and go."

[member="Ludolf Vaas"]
 
Keeping the blaster pistol leveled at her head, Ludolf examined the object she held out towards him. A holocron? Why would his brain transponder be held inside a holocron? And worse, it was on her person when he found her. This told Ludolf that she clearly valued his brain mechanism, and perhaps had been the one willingly controlling his brain signals the entire time. Could he have been wrong?

"Don't move," He said as he saw the woman inching backward. Judging by her armor set, this woman clearly got around. She didn't seem like your average junk collector.

"Your name, now," Ludolf demanded. "And I want to know exactly how you came across my device. And why you are carrying it on your person. And... why you appear to be storing it in a holocron."

Ludolf looked down momentarily at the holocron next to him, sitting plainly on a stack of mail. The entire situation made no sense. Wheels began to turn in his head.

[member="Ivy Lasranae"]
 
..N..O..N..L..E..T..H..A..L..
"My name?"

Steady breathing. Ivy felt the twitch of her free fingers, itching to fill the space between them with a weapon. Light gleamed off the visor of her helmet as it gave a subtle cant to one side. He wouldn't see her brief glance towards the device on the stand.

"It's Hatsunamen."

FWOOM.

The room filled with a glaring flash of white light accompanied by the expulsion of energy equivalent to a point-blank Knight level radial Force Push. She'd been prepared for it, and even still braced against the wave staggered backwards several feet into a wall before catching herself. [member="Ludolf Vaas"] who had been standing only about a foot away would get the full brunt of it. The strength of it powerful enough to launch him across the room.

Hazel reached down and unclipped the blackstalker from its tether, "Suut."

It made a beeline forward, claws scraping over cheap linoleum tile, and pounced on the shadow of Ludolf's gun where he'd dropped it during the blast. Fanged jowls snatched it up like a fetch stick before it took off around the corner into another room with an excited snarl.

Blaster leveled at the man, wherever he ended up, the Merc slowly advanced forward, "Now if you would be so kind to return the favor, I'll ask you once, real sweet-like, who the feth are you?"
 
[member="Ivy Lasranae"]

Ludolf's black-clad body careened in the other direction, the force of the blast sending him clean through the cheap drywall in the other room. A deafening blast, and all that remained was a body-sized hole in the wall, and fluttering debris cascading slowly downwards to come to rest on Ludolf's motionless body, the contents of the room strewn completely in all directions and made even more disheveled, if that were possible, while some were destroyed outright. Ludolf laid unmoving on the ground, some dust from the destroyed drywall fluttering down to settle on his emotionless face. Then, he blinked.

Once he had determined that he was, in fact, still alive, Ludolf made a mental note to himself that some holocrons, indeed, were not actually holocrons.

He slowly took to his feet, groaning as he did, his normally well-coiffed hair in disarray. A less fit man would have likely been incapacitated by the blast, but though Ludolf did not have the force, he did have a superior level of fitness due to his genetic programming, as well as a heightened threshold of pain. That didn't change the fact that a quick assessment of his body revealed to him that his arm was likely fractured. A fight with this woman would be all the more difficult now. Not only that, being sent through a drywall hadn't exactly done wonders for his back.

Oh, and she had his gun now. Ludolf did nothing, merely met her helmeted gaze with his own, dirt and dust settling between the crevisces of his stone cold face. Since he wasn't thrilled with the prospect of being terminated with his own service weapon, Vaas raised his hands in the air, level with the blaster Ivy was now pointing at him, in a motion of feigned surrender. Fortunately, she had moved toward him. This would be step one in Ludolf's attempt to disarm her, if he had the chance.

"I am General Ludolf Vaas of the First Order," He said flatly, his hands still raised, recognizing that he was not in the best of positions right now. If he could get her talking too, then it would be better for him. "The man whose cerebral encoder you possess."
 
..N..O..N..L..E..T..H..A..L..
"Right, and I'm the Queen of Naboo."

The Merc stepped past the side table, one hand leaving its hold on her blaster to retrieve the spent Velokron on her way by.

"You've got some nerve breaking in here and making such a mess. You could have just knocked, you know."

That would have been the polite thing to do. It was what Hazel did. Amazing how many people will answer a polite knock at the door, invite you in for tea, tell you their sad life story, all unawares. She'd been served a light lunch and listened to a man confess his sins before pulling out her blaster and stunning him.

~~~
I don't know why I'm telling you these things. I don't even know who you are.

Me? I'm inconsequential to most. I'm sorry.

For what?

For this.
~~~

Curious thing to continue rediscovering: people were inherently trusting of one another despite ones own paranoia of the galaxy. It's a scary place out there without having to be afraid of every single new neighbor in the building. Guess the man didn't have many friends.

"Step through the hole, General, nice and slow. No sudden moves."

[member="Ludolf Vaas"]
 
[member="Ivy Lasranae"]

His hands still in the air, Ludolf stepped back slightly, but did not immediately move to the hole in the wall he created. Instead, he would allow Ivy to close the gap between them herself.

"I've told you who I am. If I'm to comply with you, then I should at least know who I'm dealing with, and what you want with me."

Slowly, with his palm facing her still, he reached toward his vest pocket.

"If you're skeptical of my identity, I can prove it. Here's my datapad. See?"

He held the datapad out towards her, waiting to see if she would take it. Inside she would find various files of his, confirming his identity as a General of the First Order. Nothing classified, of course. And besides, Ludolf didn't plan on her keeping it for long if he had his way.
 
..N..O..N..L..E..T..H..A..L..
"We'll talk when I can see your pretty mug."

The gap remained - a dozen or so feet between herself and the wall. Both hands back on her blaster, Hazel trained the dot directly on the man's chest. It wavered not at all.

A low whistle sounded from her speaker. A snarl from a nearby room replied. The ghastly figure of the blackstalker stepped out from a side doorway, saliva dripping from its maw.

"Toss the datapad on the floor by my feet."

[member="Ludolf Vaas"]
 
[member="Ivy Lasranae"]

Ludolf did as she instructed and tossed the datapad towards Ivy. It landed with a metal clang on the floor at her feet. She ordered him back through the hole in the wall he created, to which he also complied. Moving forward, he began to make his way through it.

>>11:45 AM: Grenades will be useless in this environment. I may inadvertently damage my own cerebral encoder, wherever it is. That is, if the woman's trick didn't already do that itself. Also, a medical note: my right forearm will need medical attention. Will address upon removing myself from the hostile situation. I calculate approximately a 60% chance for survival. Good enough to take a risk.

He moved through the hole in the wall, until he was standing closer to her now, hands still in the air. His chest was now only about four away from the barrel of her blaster. Whatever she did next would determine his next move.

"There's the datapad. See for yourself."
 
..N..O..N..L..E..T..H..A..L..
Crunch. One armored booted foot met datapad, shattering the screen before pushing it off with her toe all while maintaining a firm gaze on the suspect.

"Suut."

Rrrrooouf. Blackstalker returned, bounding after the device with a melody of snarls before scooping it up and running back to whence it came, likely to reunite the man's items with one another in a bath of stringy saliva.

"Hands behind your head, General, and step over to the side wall."

[member="Ludolf Vaas"]
 
Ludolf put his hands behind his head and moved over to the side, as instructed. Plain-faced, he released no hint of emotion - not that he was one to do so under normal circumstances, anyway.

>>11:46 AM: Assailant is clearly not interested in cooperating. Yet if she wished to eliminate me, she would have done so already. Conclusions?

With his hands behind his head, he looked over his shoulder at [member="Ivy Lasranae"].

"That datapad was very expensive."
 
..N..O..N..L..E..T..H..A..L..
"Ohh, tut," came the pittying response as she moved forward, pulling something from her side holster.

Zzzzt.

Lights out for [member="Ludolf Vaas"] the First Order General brought to you by Vor'cha Stun Stick.

~~~~

Hyperspace. The Egris slipped along some uncharted backwater route, skipping off from Byblos in a hurry. Ludolf would not wake to stars streaking past him but to the dimly lit chamber of the freighter cargo bay, hands cuffed at his back around the railing at the base of the stairs. At the top of the stairs two beady black eyes watched him, a continuous growl that rumbled from the large Rottweiler sized beast with every breath.

How long he'd been there on the cold metal floor was anyone's guess. Judging by the puddle of slobber pooled beneath the creature and drizzling down the open stairs it had been at least an hour.

"Did you get it? Everything?"

"I took whatever I could find, even the droid. It put up a decent argument."

"You didn't damage it did you?"

"No, it tried to beat me away with a slurry of choice vocabulary. I disengaged its power core."

"You can't do that without forcing open the chasis, Scheler-"

"How I disengaged its power core is none of your concern. It's not damaged."

"Good. You'll be delivering everything in person then. What's your ETA?"

"About a week."

"That's not soon enough."

"Well that's the best I can do. I have to stop for a refuel somewhere and I don't have a lot of choices as to the locale."

"Stay away from Military stations. I'll forward you half your payment. Best if you don't talk to anyone on your way back."

"Right."

"If that's all, then..."

"Speaking of Military. You mind telling me why the feth I got jumped by a General of the First Order at Weitz' apartment?"

"A what? What do you mean?"

"A goddamn General," bang, "of the fething First Order had a blaster pointed right at my goddamn head as soon as I walked in the goddamn door. Explain, Garrell."

"I don't...you got away. With everything. What...happened exactly?"

"I managed to get the upper hand before he painted the walls with my brain matter is what happened."

"Is he dead?"

"What kind of Merc am I, Garrell."

"He's not dead?"

"Of course not. He's indisposed in my cargo bay. The feth am I supposed to do with him?"

"Kill him!"

"Feth off! What kind of Merc am I, Garrell."

"That man will ruin everything, Scheler. I don't know how he knew about Weitz but I'm going to make myself perfectly clear: you kill that man or the deal is off."

"Good luck getting what you were after then."

"Do you think I wouldn't hire someone else to find you, Scheler? I'll get what I'm after and that man will be dead, by your hands or someone else's. Do yourself a favor and make it your own."
 
After waking to the dank confines of [member="Ivy Lasranae"]'s cargo bay and tugging on his hands, only to find them bound to the railing behind him, it hadn't taken Ludolf long to figure out what had happened. There was now nothing but the detestable stench of the woman's beast to accompany his solace in the room, which was apparently a freighter of some sort, judging by the low din of the hyperdrive engines being heard faintly below the beast's petulant snarl. Escape would be unlikely, due to the fact that he was cuffed to a bar. Not only that, but the First Order would be looking for him soon - except they would have no clue as to where to act. He had told no one about his trip to Byblos, for the obvious reason that the nature of his visit was rather compromising to his character.

Ludolf had found himself in worse conditions as an Agent - but not by much.

He had at least worked out that this woman was not who he was looking for. Why she was in the apartment at the same time as he, however, was anybody's guess. Yet she did not attempt to kill him, only capture him. Was she some kind of bounty hunter?

>>Date Unknown: Either way, I have determined that at the first chance presented to me, I will kill this woman. Working through all possible scenarios now...

This would take some time. Ludolf propped himself against the wall and sighed, closing his eyes.
 
..N..O..N..L..E..T..H..A..L..
Footsteps. Armored boots across mesh durasteel panels. Hazel stepped over the lounging blackstalker to descend the stairs, taking a moment to assess the mess of drool on the steps as she went. Jet...geez.

She found the man right where she left him and conscious to boot. Measured strides carried her into the open space of the cargo hold, crossing the threshold where supply crates and a small transport sat in storage. Though her helmet was still firmly in place and actively scanning the surroundings of the ship there seemed to be a bit more of an edge to her movement as she approached, pulled a crate and took a seat before the man, several feet away from the reach of his legs.

"So, General, welcome aboard my ship. Shame it had to be on such unfortunate terms but," the beast stalked behind her, claws clacking across the metal floor, "that's what happens when you interfere with a job. The good news is I'm not into wanton torture or maiming of captives, so you can rest easy knowing you'll at least be treated decently, humanely, while you're in my possession. The bad news is there's a bounty price on your head and I'm in need of income, so I can't speak to the treatment you'll receive once I've turned you over."

The helmet tilted to one side, leaning forward ever so slightly, his reflection staring back at him in the visor, "So what were you doing on Byblos in that dirty little apartment all by your onesie, General?"

[member="Ludolf Vaas"]
 
[member="Ivy Lasranae"]

Ludolf propped himself up on his feet as she entered, and leaned his head back against the wall. Squinting, he had grown accustomed to the dark atmosphere of the cargo bay before the door had slid open, flooding light into the room. So she wasn't going to torture or maim him... she probably imagined that was supposed to make him feel better. Of course she would simply be turning him over to those who would do just that. The price for desertion from the One Sith was simple: execution.

"I was looking for a piece of technology that is quite valuable to me," Ludolf answered, his voice little more than a low hum. That was all the information he was inclined to give her. He saw no purpose whatsoever in divulging the details of his mission with her; she planned to turn him over to the One Sith, and that was that. She didn't need to be privy to any further weakness of his, especially not a handy electronic device that could effectively program his mind.

"So what, you're under contract with the One Sith, then? Sent to Byblos to head me off? I'm somewhat insulted they didn't cough up a Sith Lord for the job."

If she was really with the One Sith, then they too had recieved his device's transmissions and had acted faster than he had expected - frighteningly so.
 
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"Wat?" the incredulous grimace could be heard despite being hidden behind the helmet facade. Hazel physically leaned back as if he'd spat swear words at her.

"No. This had nothing to do with you or the One Sith for that matter. At least, it didn't until you showed up." She wasn't about to admit that the original contractor had now required his death in order for her to get paid, which put her in a bit of an impasse with the situation. Hazel hadn't listed herself under Non-Lethal Mercenaries for Hire for nothing. Apprehension she could do, but the taking of lives? Even guilty parties?

Frankly she had more than enough blood on her hands.

The Merc lifted a hand to point at him, "You made it about you."

[member="Ludolf Vaas"]
 

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