Mission Aggressive Negotiations | THR . TIC

[Korda Veydran]

The shockwave hit first.
Korda braced instinctively, boots grinding against the floor as the Force roared down the corridor like a pressure front. He resisted the first surge, muscles tightening, stance widening


and then he felt it.
The second pull.

Behind him.
Too late.
The reinforced prison door tore free with a violent shriek of metal. Bolts ripped from stone. Hinges snapped like brittle bone.
Korda began to turn
The door slammed into his back like a crashing landspeeder.

The impact drove him forward and down in a thunderous crash of beskar against durasteel. The floor cracked beneath the combined weight of armored warrior and heavy door as they hit.

For a moment, there was only ringing.
Smoke.
Dust drifting in the flashing red light.
Then the door shifted.
Slowly.

Deliberately.
The heavy slab of metal rose an inch.
Then two.
Then was shoved violently aside as Korda forced it off of him with a guttural exhale. The door scraped across the floor before slamming into the far wall.

He remained on one knee for half a heartbeat.
Then he stood.
A thin line of red slipped from the corner of his mouth. He wiped it away with the back of his hand, glanced at the blood briefly—
and spat it onto the floor.

He rolled one shoulder. The impact had been solid. Good use of terrain.
When he looked back at her, the mocking edge in his eyes had dimmed.
"You fight well," he said evenly.
A slight tilt of his head followed.

"For a rookie."
Not an insult.
An assessment.
The riot continued around them, but neither advanced for a brief second. Even the chaos seemed to recoil from the space between them.

Korda inclined his head properly this time.
A warrior's bow.
Small. Controlled. Real.
"If you wish to set the laws of this duel," he said, voice steady now, less theatrical, "speak them."

He flexed his fingers once, shock gauntlets humming faintly.
"We are enemies."
His red eyes held hers without blinking.
"But this…"

A subtle gesture between them.
"…should remain honorable."
The jaig eyes on his chestplate caught the white glow of her blade.
"No interference. No outside kills in the exchange. Just you and me."

He squared his stance again.
"You pushed a door. I threw a shield."
A faint smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth.
"Call the terms."

Searal Nis Siv Kryze

 

[Kirae Orade]

Tags: Prisoner #36929

More blasterfire. It was getting harder and harder to hold her ground as she slammed the shield down into the ground, digging it in before crouching down onto her knee. This was nothing to her. She had faced down the flames of the the Vong Firebreathers on Ketaris. Some measly blaster bolts weren't anything for her to be worried about. It was more trying to protect someone who wasn't as suitably armoured as she was.

"They aren't my friends. They're my employers."

Kirae snapped back at the Prisoner. Sure, he might have meant the other Mandalorians, but right now, Kirae didn't care much for details. It was right about now that she was coming to the slow realisation that she should have a long time ago. Having a blaster or some other kind of ranged weapon to go with the shield would have been a smart idea. Of course, it was too late to act on that realisation right now, but perhaps for the next mission. If there was ever going to be one.
​

"All Mandalorian allies, this is Captain Rourke. Primary objective complete. Repeat, objective complete. Evacuate immediately."

"Anyway. They're going to be here soon...I don't know why you're complainin' anyway! They'll need to get through me before they can get through you."

Of course that was unless they threw some kind of explosive. What were the odds of something like that happenin-...What was that clattering noise? Kirae blinked to herself beneath her helm, before turning her head to look at the spherical device that seemed to roll next to her side, with a distinctly red flashing light.

"...Chit."​

 

[Prisoner #36929]

Tags: Kirae Orade​

He kept popping up over the shield and firing. Each time felt riskier than the last. Blaster bolts cracked past his head, close enough to feel the heat. He was aware of how exposed he was. One clean shot and he was finished.

Don't get in her way. Don't slow her down. Still, the thought crept in. I might already be.

"They aren't my friends. They're my employers."

"Uh… right," he answered quickly. Message received. Stop talking.

He ducked again, waited for a gap in the incoming fire, then leaned up and fired two more shots down the hall. A trooper staggered and fell.

Then something clattered across the floor. His eyes flicked down. A small metal sphere rolled past the edge of the shield and stopped beside her knee. Red light blinked steadily.

Grenade.

His heart jumped into his throat. He didn't think. His hand shot forward and the air snapped tight. A violent pressure pushed out from him. The grenade jerked off the floor, slammed into the wall, and ricocheted back down the corridor toward the cluster of troopers.

He barely had time to register what he'd done. "Down!" The Nagai hit the floor.

The explosion ripped through the hallway. Heat and pressure slammed into the shield with a thunderous crack. Debris blasted across the corridor. Pieces of wall and armor clattered everywhere.

For a moment there was nothing but smoke and ringing silence. He slowly lifted his head. The corridor ahead was shredded. He stared at his hand, then at her, confusion written across his face.

Did I do that?

Alarms howled overhead. He pushed himself up quickly, glancing toward the wrecked hallway.

"Maybe we go the other way," he said, breathing hard.

 

[Cynan Obaith]

Tag: Dominique Vexx

Cynan remained silent, letting his body recover from the stress and torture from his time in the imperial space. He also knew that his silence was needed to allow Chancellor Dominique in handling this mysterious being. She was head of the Senate for a reason and it was clear from the conversation, that she controlled the direction on the conversation. Cynan was impressed and he hoped that his silence was the correct move on his part. Breathing in deeply, he watched as this dealmaker disappeared through a portal. Cynan moved and rested against the desk. Demonstrating how much his body and health had deteriorated.

"I can give the best report on what I was attempting to do and the outcome. I do need to make some demands. Things were revealed to me in my imprisonment that I need to prioritise above my report and even on my health." Cynan stated, the threats that had been made to his family were things that Cynan was not going to allow to go without new precautions taken in place. "Threats were made to my family, here on Naboo. A warrant is required not just on Marlon Sularen but also Rackham. The man tortured me while I was imprisoned and made direct threats towards my own family in order to reveal High Republic secrets."

Cynan looked over to Dominique, "I gave them nothing. That is the truth of it. I need increased security around my family and these imperial spies that were taking pictures of them located and arrested." There was a large sigh as he felt that the biggest concern from his time in prison was released from his chest. Cynan was forever going to be concerned about his family, so he needed to ensure that they were going to be given heightened protection now that direct threats were made to them on Naboo.

"Marlon Sularen came to Corellia intent on killing every former leader, any supporter of those leaders and anyone who attempted to stand in his way to prevent those murders. I politely asked him to reconsider that potential genocide and that he was welcomed to find a home, live a peaceful life on Corellia but he was not going to be rampaging around my new home. Especially since he believed that he could storm Corellia and claim to be its ruler." Cynan stated honestly. He was not going to hold anything back and he knew that there were always going to be those who judged his actions and questioned what he was doing. "I went without my personal security and without a High Republic team because I did not wish to escalate things to a violent outcome, I am a man of words not violence. I also wished to avoid dragging the High Republic into a war with the Imperial Confederacy, given Mr. Sularen's title within that faction."

Standing a little straight as the pain dulled a little more, or perhaps his body merely adjusted to the pain tolerance. "I was polite, I did not wish for this outcome nor did I wish to endanger Corellia. Mr. Sularen shot me, falsely arrested me and informed me that I would imprisoned for the rest of my life so that I did not prevent his plans for Corellia. My words were threatening enough to him and all I spoke of was ensuring that Corellia remained free of imperialism and able to prosper into a new golden era."

"My idealism prevented his plans on that day. He retreated away of Corellia and for that, I welcomed my imprisonment. I will not have my home threatened by men like him." Cynan stated firmly, proudly as he knew that while others might have seen his sacrifice as idiotic or unnecessary. Cynan believed that the actions done to him prevent the untold horrors that Marlon could have done to Corellia if he remained silent.

 

[Dominique Vexx]

Cynan certainly looked to have born quite the burden in his relatively short time in Sularen's care. Fortunately, it seemed they hadn't near enough time to permanently disfigure the man in a last, desperate attempt at coercion. A fact Dominique would flout to any questioning the haste with which the Republic forces had moved. It was because of their haste and lack of broadcasting their intention that he'd been returned in such relative health. As for it being by the hand of this Dealmaker, she would have a response for that as well if necessary. The important thing was Cynan's return.

Or, rather, Cynan's family? Dominique regarded the Ambassador as he spoke of the threats leveled at his kin. Republic Security (and Intelligence) would give him a formal debriefing later, but she wasn't about to silence him as he gave her unfiltered thoughts and information. The Professionals would evaluate psychological and physiological indicators to determine if he were in any way conditioned to give such responses; and the veracity of anything he shared given other intelligence reports and known modus operandi. It was here, in this moment, where haste was not the appropriate course of action.

One could trust a person and still be aware there were insidious techniques known to denizens of the galaxy.

"I will have Local and Republic Security arrange for their immediate safety." Pictures? So these spies or collaborators were local then. Rationally, one expected as much, but that did not make hearing it any more comforting.

The Chancellor listened attentively as Cynan launched into describing the circumstances of how he came to be in Sularen's possession. Dominique managed to keep from snorting or giving him meaningful stares as he described approaching the Supreme Commander of the Imperial Confederation. He went alone in the hope of avoiding a war. Truly the words of one 'of words not violence' to think words alone against someone of violence might be enough. Perhaps she would instruct Cynan in being prepared for the worst even as he expected the best.

That being true, Dominique had to begrudgingly admit Cynan... did not appear to be wrong. Somehow -- yes, somehow -- his words had managed to focus Sularen's anger onto one man and away from Corellia as a whole to the point Sularen's forces left with Cynan in tow. Whether it was his idealism that did it perhaps Aurelian's psychometric fellow could answer as to what exactly was said.

"One cannot foretell the future, Ambassador; and yet your bold actions had their desired effect. We can discuss ways to avoid imprisonment later. For now, I simply thank Shiraya for your return. Though it would seem a medical ward for treatment would not be amiss." The Chancellor nodded slightly for a nearby palace attendant to offer support for Cynan. They would check to make sure the man seemed inclined to walk, or call for a stretcher if he were in too much pain. "You can rest easy knowing our people will protect those nearest to you." Just because there had been an understanding did not mean Dominique trusted all involved to abide it. Especially when they could claim not having gotten the news 'yet.'

Cynan Obaith​

 

[Cynan Obaith]

Tag: Dominique Vexx

Cynan nodded his head in appreciation when Dominique took his concerns for his family seriously. While he doubted that any imperial would last long enough to endanger or harm his family now that he was rescued and Marlon should have lost a level of influence and power within the Imperial Confederacy over this debacle. If the Imperial Confederacy were competent in what they were doing, at least.

"I thank you and the High Republic's rapid response." Mythology was not something that Cynan was a deep believer in personally. While there might be some credit to such beliefs, he viewed things needing a far more practical and personal touch. Change happened in part due to luck but also decisions in what people made. Praying for change never really worked in his mind. "Their torturous methods were not exactly something I would consider recommending for people."

Breathing out slowly, "that is definitely an ease on the soul, Chancellor. Rest is something that I believe that I am in dire need of." Wrapping his non-injured arm around the shoulders of the person who would be guiding him to the medical facilities. "I will not forget the work you did today to save me, Chancellor. While I held out hope for the High Republic to save me, I also feared that it would have been too complicated." Cynan was fully aware that this was not an ideal situation for the High Republic since they were wanting to focus on reducing the number of enemies around them, not increasing that number.

"I aim to be back in office as soon as I am cleared from the doctors."