Private Bump in the Road

[Dayna Rhyss]

Location: Central City, Uyter
Objective: Secure a commerce hub
Attire: Supervisor Armor
Tag: Kael Varnok

Uyter was never going to be a galacticly significant system. Its placement and the current state of galactic politics merged in a way that made Uyter as important as ever. Especially if plans for cooperation between the Galactic Alliance and Imperial Confederation were to come to fruition.

An agriworld with infrastructure for an academy was of great interest to Prefect Tron. Dayna thought that it could be a significant hub for commerce and perhaps even use the old academy as a joint operations base for future plans to counter the Galactic Empire.

The first step was to meet with the Uyter leadership informally. Dayna had asked for a tour of the former Imperial Academy, that had come yesterday and she was pleasantly surprised at its current status of readiness. Today she was discussing a possible trade deal. The good thing with agriworlds was the Confederation could always use more sources of food. Always a purpose in being there that wasn't about absorbing them.

Formally taking control of Uyter was going to take a bit of time. But the ground work could be laid now. The interesting thing was that since her arrival, Dayna had learned of an insurgent local group that supported the Galactic Empire. That was something Dayna would need to dive into once she had taken the temperature of the official leadership. They were in an interesting position after all with Mandalorians, criminal cartels and the Alliance all on their doorstep. A deal with the Confederation might require a rich compensation package. Something Dayna hadn't yet received authorization to offer. But the meeting had started well at least.​

 

[Kael Varnok]

The conversation was moving smoothly—too smoothly.

Dayna spoke with the poise of someone trained to play the long game. The Uyter delegates nodded in rhythm, all tight smiles and carefully measured responses. But beneath the surface, Kael felt it: the prickle at the base of his neck, the shift in the air, the way one guard's hand hovered just a little too close to his blaster's grip. Tension, coiled and waiting.

He had been watching from above—half-hidden in the crumbling rafters of the old academy's assembly hall, cloaked in dust and silence. They hadn't noticed him. Or maybe they had, and assumed he wasn't the kind of man they'd have to worry about.

They were wrong.

The snap-hiss of twin sabers cut through the hushed diplomacy like thunder in a funeral. In one breath, Kael dropped from the ceiling in a blur of cloth and scarred flesh, landing hard between Dayna and the nearest would-be assassin, his orange blade catching the incoming blaster bolt mid-air with a violent hiss.

Another bolt flew.

Kael's yellow saber flared to life in his left hand, carving a sharp arc through the air as he stepped forward—not away—toward the shooters.

"Really?" he growled, eyes locked on the stunned delegates. "During negotiations?"
Another shot. Kael moved like a storm—precise, brutal, and fast. Three bodies hit the floor before the rest even processed what had happened. He didn't kill. Not yet. But none of them would walk without pain again.

When the room stilled, smoke rising from the scorched floor, Kael turned—half-glance over his shoulder toward Dayna.

"You might want to renegotiate your guest list."
Then to the remaining officials, he stepped forward, both sabers still ignited, the growl in his voice unmistakable:

"Now—someone explain to me why I just had to save your lives at your own damn table."
His eyes gleamed beneath his brow, the forked tip of his tongue barely visible as he spoke.

"And don't lie. I've heard enough of those for one war."

 

[Dayna Rhyss]

Location: Central City, Uyter
Objective: Secure a commerce hub
Attire: Supervisor Armor
Tag: Kael Varnok

The meeting descended quickly into chaos. Dayna dropped to a knee and pulled her sidearm from its holster. Despite the sound of blaster fire, the Supervisor first raised the weapon in the direction of the Force-user who had dropped out of the ceiling. Her enemies were Sith after all. An attempt to sabotage this meeting by them was not out of question.

The armor that Dayna had worn as a sign of strength, had held against the lone bolt that had gotten close to its target. Actions and words demonstrated that the lightsaber wielding meeting crasher was not the aggressor, but a protector. Dayna shifted her aim to the "guards" who had sprung the sneak attack. But mostly she just watch the Jedi.

With the threat quickly dealt with, the room settled into a murmured silence. The Jedi spoke accusingly to Dayna's hosts. She grumbled to herself. "Your house needs to be put in order before we can continue talks Minister. The Imperial Confederation can help with that, you need only to ask."

Returning her weapon to her side Dayna moved to the Jedi's side, "Not sure who sent you, but thanks for the save. If you do your little mind tricks on these ones you will see they didn't organize this."

The Supervisor looked around the room and sighed. "This will not be the last attempt to end my visit here in a tragic failure. I was not expecting opposition from within the meeting. My guards were left at the spaceport. I don't suppose you would be willing to lend your talents to getting me safely off this planet? Supervisor Dayna Rhyss is the name by the way."​

 

[Kael Varnok]

Kael's sabers hummed low, casting molten light across the chamber as he turned his gaze on Dayna. Her weapon lowered, her words steady, but Kael still felt that itch in his chest—the part of him that never trusted too easily.

"You've got steel, Supervisor," he muttered, the faintest edge of amusement in his tone as he stepped closer. The sabers deactivated with twin snaps, but his presence didn't soften. If anything, the silence grew heavier around him.

One gloved hand lifted, not roughly, but firm enough to tilt her chin upward. His piercing eyes bored into hers from behind the faint reflection of his mask. "Words lie," he said, voice low. "Faces… less so."

He let her go, straightening to loom over the delegates. His right hand spread slightly, fingers twitching in the air like a puppeteer tugging invisible strings. The Force spilled out—subtle, not the brute shove of a warrior, but a coaxing ripple. "Speak," he commanded, voice carrying weight beyond sound. "Who planned this? Who armed you? Who let you into a negotiation with blasters primed?"

The murmured protests cracked. Eyes darted, sweat beaded. A nervous delegate stammered, words spilling against his will. Another shifted uncomfortably, trying to resist before his own guilt broke him.

Kael tilted his head, eyes narrowing. "Supervisor Rhyss," he said at last, tone sharp, skeptical. "You say they didn't organize this, yet the plot thickens under their tongues. So tell me…" He flicked his gaze back to her, the forked tip of his tongue briefly flashing between his words. "Are you as surprised as you claim? Or am I meant to believe the galaxy gifted me one more convenient lie?"

He leaned just close enough for only her to hear the last part, his voice dropping to a near-growl.
"Because I don't like being someone's weapon on a string."