Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos

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Abstruse Interference [Ivy]

General Vaas narrowed his eyes at [member="Ivy Lasranae"].

"Well then, color me confused, ma'am," He said calmly as he propped himself up again. The cuff on his hand with a broken arm was getting tiresome and irritating. "If the One Sith didn't send you to find me, then what were you doing there?"
 
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Fingers pulled into a light fist, holding its position in the air before the man with consideration before being recalled back to brace against armored thigh. There were rules a Merc abided by - it was what set them apart from common thieves or even, by and large, bounty hunters themselves. Those cretins operated in their own mystical realm where rules didn't apply to them, or so they liked to believe. She was about to break two rules and the fact made her left eye twitch.

Mercenary Rule #23: Don't talk about your job unless it's with your team.
Mercenary Rule #27: Never make intelligible contact with a target once apprehended unless it fulfills a requirement of the job.

"Collecting valuable technology."

She knew the moment the words hit her teeth she would regret them, she just wasn't sure why.
 
Ludolf studied [member="Ivy Lasranae"]. For a moment, they were simply two statues, each representing vastly different backgrounds and virtues, peering at each other in a dark, mucid cargo bay, with nothing hanging between them except silence. If what the bounty hunter just said was true, this trip was about to get a whole lot more interesting.

"I see..." Was Ludolf's only managed reply, his eyes squinting to see her through the darkness of the room, his dirt-caked and sweaty face barely visible. "And this technology you collected... is it on board this vessel now, as we speak?"

This poor woman might have just entangled herself in an ongoing faction feud, Ludolf thought. For a moment, his own luckless feeling almost dissipated - almost. If she had managed to take his brain device along with the rest of her loot, then there would be nothing stopping the One Sith from tracking them, right now.
 
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"No," she replied bluntly, "it's been shipped off to my employer."

The woman's lip twitched behind the visor of her helmet as her HUD honed in on her captive's broken arm through biometric scans. She disliked leaving him injured in such a way and wagered that it was probably pretty painful, but frankly she didn't trust the man enough to release the binds in order to administer First Aid. The Shadowport wasn't far either way and likely it would matter very little what injuries he arrived with.

Hazel tried not to think about what they might do with him.

[member="Ludolf Vaas"]
 
Ludolf's head tilted back and rested against the duraplate wall of the holding cell.

"I see," He breathed gruffly. He couldn't be sure how long he had been out for, but either it was a very long time or the merc was lying. Had she really stopped and shipped off the parts to her employer in the time he had been unconscious? A quick workthrough of the scenario led him to believe it was unlikely. The logical choice would be to deposit him first, as he constituted the greater immediate threat; the technology could always be delivered later.

Either way, he had to get the hell off this ship.

"You've an interesting moral code, hunter," Ludolf said quietly. "You seem to pride yourself in the humane treatment of your captives. Unfortunately, the One Sith does not share your views. And when you've turned me over to them and they torture me to death, will you imagine yourself absolved of any responsibility?" He managed a small smile on his face.

[member="Ivy Lasranae"]
 
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Hazel felt her jaw draw tight at the smirking look of smugness on the man's face. It took a small iota of willpower not to haul off and backhand him - that was what most Mercs would do and, as he could certainly and presently attest to: Hazel wasn't most Mercs.

"You'd like to think you've caught me in a moral dilemma," she said finally with an indignant sniff as she pushed herself to a stand, "but I already don't sleep at night. It's nothing personal, General, it's just business. Fuel isn't free."

Truth be told she wasn't keen on sending anyone off to the Sith, but the price on his head was a luxury she couldn't afford to pass up. Literally.
 
Ludolf could hear the frustration in Ivy's voice as she stared down at him with contempt. Knowing that he had touched a nerve, his small smile remained.

"Of course.... just business," He replied to her, exhaling a soft chuckle. "You'll have to teach me that mental cartwheel sometime."

Sighing, he rested his back against the wall, doing his best to move his broken arm out of the way.

"Well, I suppose that's it. You deliver me to the One Sith, collect your handsome sum, and rest easy. Or not, as it were. As for me, if these are to be my last hours of mortality, I'd prefer they be in solitude. See you on the other side, mercenary."

He turned away then, breaking eye contact with her and fixing his gaze on some unspecified point on the opposite wall.

[member="Ivy Lasranae"]
 
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"You'll get about as much solitude as the beast lets you have, General."

The sound of boots pinging off the metal floor was the only hint to the woman's departure back up the steps, through the cargo bay door and out of sight.

Jet the blackstalker returned to his perch at the top of the staircase, drooling and growling down at the man.

~~~~

Several hours later: Ghost Port

She'd lied, of course, about sending off the tech. It was here - all of it, and presently it was stowed away in a hidden cargo compartment installed beneath the bunks of the passenger sleeping quarters where no passengers had ever slept, ever. The room belonged to her blackstalker and was in no shape to entertain guests.

Locked in the bridge of the ship the woman lapsed into an accidental moment of sleep in the Captain's chair, awakening with a start at the sound of warning chimes as the ship fell out of hyperspace in a vacant sector of space where Ghost Port resided. The place wasn't high on her preferred stations to stop but it was the closest and on the way. It also happened to be a relatively good location to scout out leads on bounties and jobs. Hazel was hoping she'd find more info on the General and the price upon his head.

It was not her intention to be fulfilling the bounty today.

"This is Captain Scheler of the Egris, access code 3 25 15 21 23 1, requesting access to dock."

"Egris you are cleared for entry at dock C12."

Tsssss. Hazel shrugged off the shiver of pain delivered by the energy stim in her neck and reached to pilot the ship around to the assigned port. As the engines wound down and the gangway connected she felt the ship shudder into place with a violent jerk. Hazel grunted. Normally docking procedure was much smoother. She hoped they hadn't broken anything.

Helmet on, the Merc collected her weapons and made her way back down to the cargo bay.
 
Ludolf's eyes followed the mercenary as she exited the room, until he was left only in the company of the woman's blackstalker. Indeed. The hideous thing panted and snarled, drooled occasionally, and General Vaas had to hide his grimace at the thing's grotesque appearance.

The next several hours passed by in much the same fashion, though in fact, there was a silent game of chess being played between Ludolf and the beast. The game was to see who could doze off first. Ludolf had closed his eyes and lowered his heart rate, feigning sleep, hopefully enough to keep the beast disinterested in his presence. After a long time, the blackstalker was resigned to the fact that the prisoner would be going nowhere, and so its own eyes began to fold shut due to the monotonous boredom of the dank room. It was then that Ludolf knew he had a window of opportunity.

There was one last ace up his sleeve, though it wasn't much of one and truthfully, he was not exactly looking forward to it. Ivy had done a fair job in patting him down for weapons, and had in fact confiscated all of them - almost. No one could blame her for missing the most inconspicuously hidden weapon in his arsenal: a small blade that lay retracted in the tip of his boot. It was a weapon meant for surprise purposes only, to turn a kick to the face potentially fatal. It wasn't even a vibro-weapon, or else it would hamper his walking. Rather, it was a simple crude blade, a small remnant from his days as an Agent, where he had been taught to make any body extremity into a concealed weapon. In fact, he had never even used this idea before in a real-life combat situation. Now, however, it would find a use, though not the one he intended.

Slowly, Vaas brought his leg behind him, so that he could reach down with his unccuffed hand and feel for it. With a squeeze of his toe, the blade sprung out of the tip of his boot, the sound soft enough not to wake the sleeping blackstalker across the room. Wrapping his fingers around the blade, Ludolf tugged sideways, and then tugged again. The third time, it popped off in his hand.

Pressing both feet to the floor, Ludolf extended his legs and raised himself to a standing position. He closed his eyes again and began to focus on his pulse. He felt his heart rate slowly begin to drop while his hand went to work behind his back.

Drip, drip.

Squinting, Ludolf lost himself in meditation. The pain that began to surge through his broken arm eventually melted into the rest of his body, dissipating in a feeling of heat and eventual numbness as the small blade raked through his flesh incessantly.

The drips became more frequent.

One thing was fortunate; the arm had already been damaged anyway, and so Ludolf resigned himself to the fact that he wouldn't be losing his best arm. The blade cut through skin, and veins, and eventually bones, all the while Ludolf slipped himself into a near trance-like state as his heart rate slowed to a near stop. Every Agent in the Sith Empire was trained to perform field surgery without the use of an anesthetic. It simply involved the same methods that encompassed the rest of their training; finding a quarantine in the mind for the sensation of pain, and rhythmic breathing and meditation to slow the body to a near comatose state.

A dead hand fell to the floor into a puddle of blood, and Ludolf felt himself free from the cuffs, the other end still clasped onto the pipe that had kept him tethered to the wall.

His remaining energy was spent tourniqueting his arm the best he could with the sleeve of his shirt, pulling off the cover to one of the ship's air vents, and crawling inside. Ludolf would only be able to crawl a little before he would need to stop and rest, for fear of passing out. But the deed had been done, and he was free - for now.

As such, Ivy would return to the prisoner bay to find a sleeping blackstalker on one end of the room, a severed hand lying underneath a dangling set of handcuffs in the other, and a small trail of blood that led into an open air vent. She would only have a few seconds to process this information however, before a bang was heard on the cargo bay doors.

"Open this hatch immediately, by order of the One Sith!"
 
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The blackstalker wasn't asleep for long, not with the sound of the woman's steps as she entered the cargo bay. It opened a lazy eye and licked drool from its maw, snarling mildly as she stepped over it to descend the stairs.

Those same steps came to a sudden stop about halfway down as the Merc's gaze fell upon the empty space where a man aught to be sitting.

"The feth...Jet, suut," her eyes and HUD of her helmet honed in on an object resting a few feet from where [member="Ludolf Vaas"] had last been. Organic, still giving off a faint warmth, and suddenly overtaken by the lollipping amble of her beast as it snatched it up in its jowls. Hazel hurried after it, pulling out her blaster and setting it to stun, eyes tracking the various hidey-holes and likely escape routes a man could take with only one-

"...hand?" she said, incredulous and just a tad disbelieving as it was dropped at her feet covered in drool. She bent to retrieve the severed appendage, eyes tracking the trail of blood that lead up to the open air vent just as-

BANG BANG. "Open this hatch immediately, by order of the One Sith!"

Her stomach coiled, but not from the presence of the bloodied hand in her grasp. Expletive expletive. Too late to leave port now, she was already locked in to dock. Hazel stepped forward and smashed her elbow into the hatch console. The hatch shuddered open with a metallic whine of gears.

"Gentlemen," said the Merc as they came into view, gesturing with the bodiless appendage, "is there something I can give you a hand with?"
 

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