Belsavis Blues (PM to join)

[Celiana]

I'd been all about finding out more of The Old Republic recently. Partially due to the fact that I'd revived Brianne who'd been frozen in carbonite since then, and partially due to the fact that I was in general curious about that time period. So here I was entering orbit around the planet Belsavis, Revan had been here as had many others, it'd been a prison planet for the Republic at the time and Force knew what was still down there....

Beginning an orbit around the planet I walked out of the cockpit and to my armory. I began getting suited up in my Beskar armor and started sliding weapons into place. My sabers alongside the magnetic strips on my ribs, my Phrik combat trident collapsed down and resting in it's spot just above my butt on the armored bodysuit. Silenced pistol and spare ammo on my left thigh, and my Ares suppressed battle rifle I clipped to a sling then magnetically locked it againt my backplates. Grabbing the last exotic weapons I'd be taking with me I got ammo secured in different points on my armor then I started walking back to the cockpit.

Just as I reached the cockpit to begin setting down on the planet below I felt a flicker of something through The Force... then warning sirens began going off as a ship entered my scanner ranges. Oh I had a bad feeling about this....

[member="Myles Vylumnar"] - [member="Brent Smith"]

 

[Myles Vylumnar]

Suddenly, a ship would jump out of hyperspace toward the rear of her ship. It was a medium freighter, shabby, and something seemed off about it. A broadcast would come through, displaying the hologram of a young man dressed in what looked to be a convincing officer's attire, though only his top half would display. The mysterious stranger cleared his throat, putting on a stern voice. Something was off...

"Attention: This is the MM-13 Stargazer. I am Lieutenant Rand of The Galactic Alliance. We have received word that your ship has been carrying stolen goods. Please prepare for docking." he said as the transmission abruptly ended. To the keen eye, something would seem very suspicious, though it would be quite convincing to most. Inside the freighter, Myles removed his fake uniform, albeit only being a coat. He slung his DLT-20A blaster rifle on his back, loaded his K-16 Bryar pistol, and sheathed his vibroknife. Cracking his neck, he prepared for a hostile takeover... Though, that was assuming his victim would fall for the trap.

The ship moved in to dock, unless something unexpected were to happen...

[member="Celiana"] | [member="Brent Smith"]

 

[Celiana]

Hearing the communication from the ship that'd come into range of my sensors I listened. "Attention this is the MM-13 Stargazer. I am Lieutenant Rand of the Glalactic Alliance. We have recieved word that your ship has been carrying stolen goods. Please prepare for docking." Looking at the ships codes and doing a quick ship wide diagnostic readout I checked to make sure all actual contraband had been removed. Isabelle had been setting up ways to sell the contraband items that I'd unloaded on Voss in my hangar and I knew I only had my personal gear. Speaking aloud I said, "Ares, begin running the ship approaching us against known databases. Check for the authenticity of the codes for the ship specifically if it has any Galactic Alliance affiliation. Also begin powering the defensive systems of the ships."

There was a lapse as I reached out through The Force feeling for intent. I could feel the Lieutenant's nervousness,no.... excited anticipation. He felt of ego? A sort of glee almost... In my experience though most military ships didn't travel alone there was usually an escort craft. Also I hadn't smuggled anything in a long while... I'd done a few jobs here and there but I never carried cargo with me unless I was making a trip to a buyer... Something wasn't adding up...

Ares winked into existence in the cockpit dressed in her usual provocative manner and said, "Excuse me mistress but there's several problems with the approaching ship. The codes are outdated and there's also no record of any Lieutenant in the Galactic Alliance by the name Rand. The ship the man is approaching in also isn't a military vessel, but rather a smugglers vessel whose model is known to have been used by multiple scoundrel, bounty, and hired gun organizations. It's also well armed, plus my scans reveal several chambers aboard housing weaponry."

Looking at my ship diagnostics I saw that the shields had come online as well as the surprises I had aboard my ship. Hopefully the shields and shield generator would hold if this did turn to a firefight which the odds seemed to be in favor of... Hailing the ship I said, "With due respect Lieutenant Rand, where is your escort? Also there seems to be no record of you in the Galactic Alliance database and you're trying to stop me in a vessel with outdated codes and used by everyone from pirates to bounty hunters, right down to slavers...so I'm afraid I'm going to have to deny your request to prepare for docking."

My fingers danced across the controls prepping several ion charges, as well as the ship to ship defenses. I had a feeling that this was going to turn into a firefight. Pulling my helmet on I prepped the engines to combat settings and waited to see if this would turn into a firefight...

[member="Myles Vylumnar"] - Brent Smith

 

[Brent Smith]

Alias: Logan Anderson

There were two things that were certain in this world. The first was that Brent would never give his real name without a good reason. He had a list of aliases that were a mile long, all with air-tight alibis and legit backstories strong enough to hold against even the strongest skeptics. And this time, Brent was an archeologist, Doctor Logan Anderson, looking for some bookish bricks and outdated data. In truth, he was looking for something more, a Jedi Artifact on this planet from the prisons that had long ago held the dark side sith lords of old. On the black market, this would fetch enough for him to pay his father's medical bills for ten lifetimes. Or in his own hands, it would be a tool strong enough to keep him alive in dark circumstances.

The agent quietly slipped into the ruins of the prison, flashlight in hand. Following the map in his other hand, Brent carefully threaded his way over rubble that had filled the narrow stone hallways, through half-crumbled doorways, and along stairways that were more destroyed than whole. It was a chore of acrobatic proportions, but he could manage. He pulled himself up through a very tight squeeze where the stone blocks were barely far enough apart for any human to craw. To find something special you had to go where others would not go.

[member="Myles Vylumnar"] [member="Celiana"]

 

[Myles Vylumnar]

The sound of a fist slamming against a wall resounded through the vessel.

"Kark... It's gonna be like that, then..." he said. He powered up his ship's shields, relaying all power to defenses rather than weaponry. Although it was slow, this ship could take a hell of a beating. Myles headed on toward the freighter's bay, entering his own E-wing starfighter. Rather than attack them head-on with his freighter, he had other plans in mind. That, and little did they know that he was the only one on the freighter, which meant no one was there to man the guns. So, he was playing it smart. With a smaller, faster vessel, he could use a combination of speed and skill to outmaneuver his target's attacks and hit their weak points, and once he'd incapacitated them, dock.After all, what use would the ship be if it were destroyed?

A speedy starfighter would dart out of the freighter's side, which was completely still. Zooming forward, the starfighter opened fire toward the other ship, sending a barrage of lasers at the ship's engines. He prepared for any oncoming attacks from his opponent, ready to evade any shots just as he would any dogfight. Only this time, they were bigger than he was. It'd take a decent effort coming out of him, even despite his own skills as a pilot.

"Deny preparations for docking, huh? We'll see about that." he retorted to himself. Following up his barrage of lasers, the lone pilot dispatched four proton torpedoes; Two aiming for the ship's engines, the other two aiming for the ship's shield generators. He then took evasive maneuvers, tunneling around to flank the ship.

This was going to be one hell of a fight.

[member="Celiana"] | [member="Brent Smith"]

 

[Celiana]

The starfighter popped out of the hangar bay on the freighter and began blasting to disable my ship. Firing off the ion charges into his freighter I waited several seconds then watched my scanners as I saw the explosions hit the hull damaging the sensors and one of the weapon mounts. My ship's shields held for the first round of blind blaster fire then diverting a bit of power towards critical systems I began initiating the power up sequences for The Morrigan. Firing at the fighter with my freighter would be useless but I could try and make this battle too costly for this di'kutla hutuun. Targeting all weapon emplacements on his freighter I launched two missiles with micro-thrusting explosives that were targeted at multiple points on his ship.

Just as I fired the missiles off another round of actual targeted blaster fire hit the shields around my engines. Dodging that I felt the impact at two of the torpedoes against my hull that had hit the armor plating and the primary shield generator. The readouts of my ship noted that the primary shield generator had actually been destroyed. Fierfeck'la osik! Yelling I said, "Stop blowing holes in my ship!" Loading several mines into the tubes I flipped my ship around and flew towards his freighter firing the mines in quick succession. They'd remain there and if nothing else they'd provide some destruction later. Just then I felt drawn to the planet below...Belsavis was calling to me. There was something, or someone on the planet below that I had a feeling I'd be running into very soon.

Jerking back to the moment I felt a moment of precognition just before I felt two more torpedoes rip into the secondary shield generator and the engines a second later. Well fierfeck! Well that was it with what power I had left in my ship I locked down The Morrigan and released a steady load of micromines and ion charges. As I targeted places on the planet below where I could escape and make repairs. "Ares! initiate signal jammers and let's get out of this while we can." I saw the signal jammers come online and began the descent towards Belsavis with my eyes closed letting The Force guide my descent. If I was meant to run into someone or find something then The Force would guide my steps. For now though I wouldn't allow my pride at my piloting or fighter skills to doom me. Hopefully the life on Belsavis wouldn't try to end me in a violent manner...

[member="Myles Vylumnar"] - [member="Brent Smith"]

 

[Brent Smith]

After walking a beam like a tight rope, scaling a wall, and climbing down a 20 foot tall pile of unstable rubble, Brent had made it to the long lost maximum security cells. Here he could imagine some of the oldest and most powerful Sith Lords had spent years rotting away. He wondered how many had stayed here, and how few beings knew these even existed. There were only twenty cells or so, each of them covered with redundant, thick duracrete, permacrete, durasteel, and Quadranium steel walls, checkpoints, chokepoints, and maze-like bastilons. Of course, none of that mattered now. The doors were bashed down and the cells were empty. Armories stood at regular intervals that had long ago been picked clean by raiders and scavengers. He nodded, that was not what he came for anyway.

He checked into one of the cells, his light looking over the walls, floor, and battered refuse that was scattered across the floor. He stooped low and pulled a pair of metal cuffs from the floor and pocket them into his satchel he had. He went to each of the twenty cells searching them and finding the manicals that were within. Except these were not ordinary manicals. These were created to hold in Sith Lords. Brent was sure some mystical, old Jedi arts had gone into crafting these with special powers to do that, but he didn't care about that. He was more intent on using them or selling them. You never knew in this spy business.

"Hey, you, stop!" shouted a voice from the end of the passage.

Brent looked up from his scavenging, adjusting his glasses. He could see a trio of men wielding heavy blaster rifles standing near the end of the pass. Judging by their scuffy armor and weaponry, he figured they were mercenaries, pirates, or the same lot. He raised his hands in feigned fear, "O-o--ooh! Don't shoot!"

"Who are you? What the hells are you doing here?" One of them barked.

"I-I-I am just Doctor Logan Anderson, I am an archeologist looking to find the lost crown of Darth Ameraudus the Terrible, please don't--"

"Oh this one is annoying," grunted another, "Let's just shoot him."

The leader shook his head, "We can sell him for a pretty price."

"But he knows where our base is, and how did he get in here? We need to kill him," the third objected.

Brent bit the inside of his cheek, he was hoping they wouldn't have asked that. The moment the leader shifted his weapon in his hand to bring it to bear on Brent, the agent's hand was moving faster. The hidden C-19 Charric pistol concealed in his leather coat came out, firing three suppressed shots. The three bodies fell without a second word. He sighed, "Nothing personal, just business."

He turned and found his way out, one that was much easier than his way in. Brent squeezed his way out of a side passage that lead him towards a long trail, one that was winding and barely able to hold one person. It lead him to a flat, wide opening. He sat back on one of the nearby boulders and caught his breath for a moment.

[member="Myles Vylumnar"] / [member="Celiana"]

 

[Myles Vylumnar]

Most of the damage to his freighter was caught by his deflector shields, though he would need repairs. That didn't matter to him now, he had his eyes on a new prize. He would have to fly around the mines which also blocked him off from his ship. Just then, he noticed the ship descending toward the planet below. Were they retreating? No, they couldn't be. Something was up, and so he set course to chase them down.

He stopped his ship for a brief moment to clear a path through the minefield laid out in front of him. This is as tedious as phrikin' ever... He thought to himself. He fired his lasers to any mines floating in his path and continued onward to follow the freighter. Using his superior speed, he attempted to catch up before the enemy ship could land. At this moment, he sent another transmission through, which would just end up garbly through the signal jammers.

"Where in the blazes are you running off to?" said a surprisingly young man. He didn't even seem old enough to drink, but that didn't matter at this point. He seemed sort of annoyed, though not completely angry. He was driven by passion, desire, and exhilaration. All of this would be apparent. The young pilot was relentless in his pursuit.

Just then, he noticed the fuel gauge on his fighter ticking down. Kark!

[member="Brent Smith"] | [member="Celiana"]

 

[Celiana]

Eyes closed I guided my ship down to the planet of Belsavis. Letting The Force guide my flight path I opened my eyes back up as I broke atmo and took a quick look around. There was what looked to be some ruins coming closer, terrain was a bit rough and the jungle looked to be able to hide my ship. Angling slightly towards the jungle I looked down and saw a small cove area by a waterfall, the jungle was fairly thick there as well and it happened to be fairly close to the ruins. Reaching out with The Force I felt there was something in the ruins and I set down to hide my ships as best I could.

After having touched down I powered down the engines and took a look at what I'd have to replace. Both shield generators were blasted to hell, my engines were leaking coolant and one was sparking wildly. Pulling my helmet off and clipping it to my belt I said, "Ares do a shipwide diagnostic and send a report to my helmet of what I'll need to re-supply on and pickup for repair parts. Also do me a favor and log points in the galaxymap of where some scrapyards and repair stations are near here." What a mess....

Dropping the hangar bay ramp I walked down to the solid ground of Belsavis. Hitting the anti-intruder protocols I grabbed a supply and survival pack then made my way into the jungle to begin fortifying and concealing my position. I still had a feeling that I'd be entering those ruins sooner rather than later and I had to admit I was curious about them and what they held too...

[member="Myles Vylumnar"] - [member="Brent Smith"]

 

[Myles Vylumnar]

Once she broke atmosphere, Myles lost her through the clouds. He could only follow her last known general direction and his own hunch. Shortly after his descent, he noticed some ruins down below. They probably went there, he thought. By some miracle, maybe he would have also found fuel. He flew downward, landing directly into the landing bay in the middle of the ancient prison complex. Little did he know, he was an unwelcome visitor.

He waited for a moment, regaining himself and his focus. He knew little of this place, but he knew what it was. It was an ancient prison built by the Republic, which was right on top of even more ancient Rakatan ruins. What could anyone possibly want here? After thousands of years, it was surely to be scraped clean of anything valuable. Nevertheless, this was where they went, so it was where they went.

He popped open the cockpit. Immediately after hopping out, he was greeted by the barrel of a gun.

I have a bad feeling about this...

[member="Celiana"] | [member="Brent Smith"]

 

[Brent Smith]

Brent could see both of the ships land from his position. He stood upright, one was trailing smoke and from this distance he could tell it was in bad shape. The other landed at the base of these ruins. He ran through the possible scenarios. There were not many answers to this that he liked, and in that case he decided to start working with the least lovable. That was what had kept him alive for a long time, expecting the worst.

He tapped on his wrist comm unit, opening it to all bandwitdths. Gates, his astromech droid would get it, and so would everyone else. But that didn't matter so much, the message was just three seconds of static. The droid would know what it meant, to anyone else it would sound just like some bad electronic interference from faulty equipment on the fringe. To the droid, it meant prepare the Celestial Bishop, a modified YT-2400 and stand by for extraction.

"Ok," Brent said exhaling, "let's go, Doctor Anderson."

Stuffing his hands in the pockets of his tan canvas trenchcoat, Brent began to weave his way through the ruins. If he was lucky the bandits would deal with the new arrivals, if not, then he would have to handle them himself. He heard the sounds of boots coming closer and Brent with a flurry hid himself behind a stone pillar. The bandits passed by him unaware, their attention was on the E-wing that had landed in their front yard. They were still close, just a few dozen yards away. He didn't dare move yet, or strike. He waited to see how everything would play out.

[member="Celiana"] / [member="Myles Vylumnar"]

 

[Myles Vylumnar]

Taken aback, he stood frozen for a moment. Normally, he'd have Kaz bring the ship around and mow these guys down, but Kaz was off doing god-knows-what on Zeltros and his ship was surrounded by a minefield.

"Put your hands up- NOW!" they threatened. There were three of them total; The one holding a gun to his face, and the other two backing him up. He was in a tedious spot, but he'd been in worse before. He was limited on options, and he had to think fast... Myles really only had two options. One was to turn himself in, which was not happening. The other was to take them on. It was a risky move, but Myles was ballsy enough to take the chance. He would swiftly grab his assailant's hand, effectively disarming him as he twirled him around and-

*WHACK*

Myles blacked out, collapsing to the ground after taking a brutal pistol-whip to the face. It turned out he had been stuck in his imagination and forgot to act it out.

Perhaps the third option he had was to get knocked out.



[member="Brent Smith"] | [member="Celiana"] ((Brent, you should have gone with Thomas Anderson. That would've been hilarious.))

 

[Celiana]

I'd landed and had hidden my ship in the ruins but it was high time I either commissioned or built my own set of security and repair droids...As it was in the time I'd been here I'd cut through several small trees and stacked them in a semi-defensive perimeter along wiht moving some of the rubble in behind the trees to support the perimeter. I'd also rigged up some quick booby traps to further secure the landing zone before I'd headed into the ruins. Odds were that the "Lieutenant" had landed here as well if not having outright tracked me... Yet there was another sense of someone down here.

Having moved into the ruins I'd pulled on my helmet, the hellish maroon T-visor barely visible in the low lighting. From what I was picking up on the sensors there'd been recent weapons fire and I'd caught the tail end of a conversation where an apparently hapless person had been knocked out. Odds were that it was bandits in here and that they'd keep the poop sap alive for awhile at least. I felt as though there was someone else here though either trying to escape or avoid detection. They also seemed quite determined... Moving through the corridors I drew my silenced pistol and swapped out the hollowpoint ammo for a mag of knockout darts. Listen to The Force they said, it'll never lead you astray they said... Coming around a corner I ran smack into a guard. Before he had a chance to fully react I grabbed his weapon hand and pushed it out to the side then shot him in the leg.

The dart took effect very quickly and I dragged his body back into the dark corridor. Grabbing his comlink I patched myself into the channel these bandits were using, if nothing else it'd give me an idea of what I was dealing with but odds were I'd learn something about who else was here and why it was so important to the bandits. In any case I had the sense that I'd be running into someone I wasn't expecting and that the bandits were after... This is where the fun begins I though darkly...

[member="Myles Vylumnar"] - [member="Brent Smith"]

 

[Brent Smith]

Brent watched as the new arrival was carted away. He felt a pang of regret. For all his training and the missions he had run, Brent was still a man, not a heartless murderer. He could see a few more of the the guards coming and moving through. An idea,a very terrible idea came into his head. He gripped one of the stragglers by the back of its neck, a swift tug made the body limp and sent its owner into the next life. Brent dragged it into one of the half crashed rooms.......

After an obligatory cut scene, Brent emerged from the room wearing the armor and gripping the rifle. It was a bit peicemeal for his tastes, with bits clearly thrown together from various stolen bits and bobs and it had been far too long since the underlay had gotten a good cleaning. His face was thankfully hidden behind a blue visor faceplate that was one half covered in rust, the other half in mud. Brent looked at the nameplate on the chest, it read "Thomas Anderson" ((Your welcome ))

With a confident gate, he strode through, mingling with some of the other banditos.

"Hey, you!" shouted someone, giving him a smack on the shoulder, "you must be new. The rifles go back over here, stupid."

"Oh, right I am. Sorry," Brent said tossing it at the guy, "you do it."

He moved away down the side hall, the confident swagger of a bandit going through his body. He was looking for--the detention center where they would be keeping this new prisoner. Who he ran into was an armored woman putting a dart in a guy and dragging him into some low-lit pass.

"You know," I said putting my hands in my pockets as I stood behind her casually, "there are more subtle ways of saying no to date."

[member="Myles Vylumnar"] / [member="Celiana"]

 

[Celiana]

As I was dragging the guard back down the corridor I heard a voice say "There are more subtle ways to say no to a date." Looking up at him I saw he was dressed in the bandit gear but he was different...he carried himself differently. Turning to face him I said, "Aye there are but someone who draws on me isn't usually the type I go for anyways. I take it you're not actually one of these bandits based on the fact that you didn't raise an alarm or try to shoot or otherwise harm me. So my question is who are you and why the bandit disguise?"

I began flicking through the maps of these ruins that I'd gathered from my helmets' sonar and other sensors looking at possible escape routes just in case this stranger decided to make things difficult. I still hadn't holstered my pistol which if this stranger was looking he'd notice. I really hoped that he wouldn't try to raise an alarm or otherwise make my life more difficult...

[member="Brent Smith"] - [member="Myles Vylumnar"]

 

[Myles Vylumnar]

Meanwhile...

Myles awoke in an old low-security prison cell; One of the last still remaining functional. His vision blurred as his eyes blinked open. The guard in front didn't seem to notice him. Carefully, he sat up and peered through the bars to gather his surroundings. Across the room, he saw all of his weapons and equipment sitting on a table. Standing guard was another bandit in front with his back turned, and other than that there was little else other than patrols walking back and forth from time to time.

"'Ey boss, he's awake!"

Seconds later, a man who appeared to be the leader or of at least a high rank in the bunch waltzed over. He donned a leather coat which went down to his legs, some sort of chestplate armor and tan pants. He was older with a bit of scruff on his face. He seemed like the type of man who'd been through a lot, and seen a lot of things.

"How was your nap?" He asked in a soft, dark, and reptilian-like voice.

"L-look, I'm just a scavenger... I didn't mean to intrude... I can just take my ship and leave!"

"I'm afraid not..." He pulled up a hologram of a bounty poster, showcasing the image of Myles himself on it.

"It appears you have a bounty on yourself, Myles. Does 'Kubbo the Hutt' ring a bell? Oh yes, he's very angry about your recent shenanigans on Nal Hutta."

"...You're not making this any easier for anyone, you know that? Just let me go..."

Myles fell silent. He held back his rage, beaming with intensity on the inside. Everything he had worked, struggled, and bled for was now at the fingertips of some low-life thug on an abandoned planet. He deserved a better ending than this, at least he thought so. No, he knew so. He swore to not let his life thrown away by some worthless schutta.

"So, Myles, here's what's going to happen. We're going to take everything you own and hold you for ransom. The Toydarian you seem to have befriended will be returned to its rightful owner, and your ship is going to be scrapped and recycled into crotchplates." he cackled, turning to leave.

"Oh, and don't worry! We saw the ship you shot down... They will be dealt with shortly."

Yet another reminder that what goes around in the criminal underground, comes around, and nothing goes unnoticed by anyone.

A sudden darkness filled the area. It was not the kind of darkness meaning the absence of light, but another kind. It was weak, not powerful by any means. It was quite faint, yet noticeable. It was a new darkness, unlike the howls and screams of former inmates. It was simply raw, pure rage.

"I'M GONNA KILL YOU SONS OF SCHUTTA! EVERY SINGLE ONE OF YOU!" he screamed. It was loud, but would probably just sound like faint, angry gibberish to anyone further than a few meters. He was determined to not let any of them get away with their insolence. The rage within him may have seemed typical for anyone who had known him as a child, but this was different. This was different on a whole new level.

[member="Brent Smith"] | [member="Celiana"] ((Sorry if this seems kinda forced, but I wanted to show that Myles has been leaning toward the dark side for quite some time now. Hope it doesn't seem dumb when you guys read this out... Also, you guys mind giving me some honest feedback on my bio? I updated it, and I really wanna know what people think.))

 

[Brent Smith]

Brent didn't even remove his hands from his pockets. He wasn't exactly trying to blend in. Chances were, they were either both interlopers or she was a bandito who had a really bad run with another. If that was the case, he doubted that there would be tranquilizers used and more blaster bolts to the face. But that was just his guess. What he was doing here was his business and no one was going to drag that from him, not even from his cold, dead body.

He gave a shrug, "You could say I am just here to take in the scenery and get a few things that belong to me."

That was about as real of an answer as she would get from him for now. Anything more would be potentially compromising, and even torture wouldn't pry that from him. He was a trained agent, not some yokel with a laptop and a holdout blaster. He noticed that she was still armed, and he wasn't took worried about that. In his line of work, he learned not to take it too personally when someone put the draw on him.

He jerked his thumb behind him, "Exit is this way, two lefts and a right. Other exit," he pointed behind her, "that way, best one is two rights, middle out of three, and four armed guards or so." the rifle shifted in his hands, "ok, your turn: what are you doing here?"

[member="Myles Vylumnar"] / [member="Celiana"]

 

[Celiana]

Smiling inside my helmet I flicked the voice filter off and said, "Well short version is I was planning on coming down here to investigate the ruins. Instead I had a young man pretending to be a Lieutenant with the Galactic Alliance try to board my ship. Then I took a few shots and made a landing to try and repair my ship. Although The Force was very clear on my visiting these particular ruins...perhaps we're looking for the same thing?"

Suddenly I felt a stab of anger and rage through The Force. Looking towards the person in front of me I asked, "By chance did you see anyone being dragged off recently by these bandits?" I had the feeling that whoever it was that'd actually shot me down was down here as well on account of my having mined the area around their ship, the lack of fuel would've likely forced them down here as well and I had the distinct feeling that we'd be running into each other sooner rather than later. That surge of emotion though...someone was angry, and they had at least some measure of Force potential if I could feel that anger and rage...

[member="Myles Vylumnar"] - [member="Brent Smith"]

 

[Brent Smith]

He gave a tight smile from behind his helmet, "Sounds like quite an adventure for a day."

In truth, it sounded like a normal day. It seemed there was hardly a day anymore when he wasn't cutting through cannibals, fighting off monsters, crashing somewhere and pulling a trigger at something. Well, that was life as an agent, he supposed. When he had signed off from the Storm Trooper units he had no idea what he was signing up for, all he wanted to do was help people. That had been his motivation since he had signed up. Never mind what people said, the First Order weren't monsters, they were protectors.

To be honest--Brent had already gotten what he came for under his guise as an archeologist, but that was neither here nor there, here was someone who could use his help and he had to come up with a reason to stick around without compromising himself.

"I doubt it," he said without missing a beat, "I'm missing a family heir loom, it was taken by these monsters. Its not much, we aren't rich, but its all we have as a family. Its a necklace," the agent stopped, "We could help each other, what I am looking for is going to be in their treasury." he tilted his head as he heard the echoes of the shout, "But if you ask me, it sounds like we need to be plus one. Every enemy of our enemy is a friend, as they say."

[member="Celiana"] / [member="Myles Vylumnar"]

 

[Celiana]

Smiling as he mentioned a treasury vault I said, "So if we'll be needing three people then I'd suggest we rescue the person they dragged off. I'd suggest we try to keep things non-lethal possible just based on the fact that we won't want to attract more attention than we need to." I shrugged my shoulder and let my rifle drop to a hang on the harness points on my armor. Magnetizing a point on my armor I pushed the rifle against it securing it in place. Looking towards my new ally I gestured for him to take point and asked, "You wouldn't happen to have any idea of what was in the treasury vault would you?"

I had a feeling that this little rescue operation could either go very well for the both of us or very badly. If my senses were right then we'd be rescuing someone who had Force potential, if they were Force-sensitive and had training all the better. The problem was if they had no training and were angry we'd be karked. With the luck I'd had today it was just as likely that the person we were going to rescue was the person that'd shot me down. If so then he'd pursued me and been captured which was just as likely to tick him off as showing up in full Beskar'gam to rescue him with someone dressed as one of these bandits. Sighing into my helmet I realized that either way the odds were we'd scare, irritate, or otherwise tick off the person we were on our way to rescue...

This is where the fun began....

[member="Brent Smith"] - [member="Myles Vylumnar"]