Cavilion Zoo [CIS Dominion of Vandelheim]

[Madalena Antares]

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Wearing: Obsidian Strike Armor [color altered to deep red]
Wielding: Nothing
Tags: [member="Lyra Laurs"] [member="Cypher Rage"] [member="Holt"]

Watching the people who came out of the transport, Madalena said nothing. She was here for security; not to be an active part of the negotiations.

First came [member="Cypher Rage"]. Truth be told, the Knight Commander did not know too much about the man. Of those who had climbed the ranks high enough to become Vice Marshal, he was surprisingly private. She wasn't certain if that was cause for worry or for pride, and had made mention towards the Ministry of Secrets to make sure he checked out about it all. But he'd probably turn out to be fine. It was just a precaution.

Next came a man her files stated was named Holt, but for themission, he used the name Adhorin Saan. Madalena couldn't say that she understood it; if these Alites were so good that they could kidnap their people without a trace, surely a fake name would do little to fool them? She hoped his choice would not come back to bit them in the butt. Of course, she was not aware to the blades hidden beneath his sleeves.

Third was [member="Lyra Laurs"]. A newcomer to the Knights Obsidian, Madalena had a feeling that the girl had what it took to carve a future for herself with them. The tools and abilities were at the tips of her fingers – the rest would be up to her.

"I'm here to provide security to those who will do the negotiations," she answered, and opened her mouth to say something.

But there would be no time for further small talk. The doors to the hangar opened, and in walked one of the Alites, surrounded by what Madalena could only assume was his own body guards. The Alite was short, perhaps 5"2, with red skin and a shiny bald head. His face, very human-like, seemed to be etched I a sneer.

"You will follow me," he said, his voice giving away that he was unhappy with them being there. A disagreement among their peers' captors? "Mr. Holt," he emphasized the name, "You will leave your knives behind. Any of you caught with weapons, we will not be returning to the Confederacy. There will be no further warnings."

And with that he turned around, motioning for him to follow.

Madalena shot a death glare at Holt, wishing she could access the Force to let him know exactly what she thought of his little stunt. These Alites, they were far more advanced than anything else they'd ever faced. Mere tricks would not work on them. They had to come to a peaceful resolution by finding the way to work together. Anything less than that…

She was supposed to be detached from it. She was supposed to be objective. But if she was walking out of this place without her sister, heads would be rolling. Quite literally.

Once the blades – and any other weapons someone might have thought they could sneak in – were disposed of, the little Alite, who hadn't deigned to give them a name, led the group through long hallways, up and down floors, various twists and turns. It felt like a lifetime before they were finally led into an oval office, with a table that for some peculiar reason, was shaped like a coffin that most human cultures in the galaxy used.

Behind the table sat another Alite, but by the Force, Madalena could not tell the two red skinned creatures apart. He might as well have been the one that had greeted them with what he looked like. The only thing she could rely on to show her they were not the same person, was the difference I the uniform.

"You may speak," the Alite behind the desk said as he waved a hand. They were not offered chairs. Or refreshments.

 

[Daxton Bane]

Someone or something was making people disappear, now normally this would only peak a cursory interest to Daxton Bane save for the fact someone had took one of his researchers on Dxun. While the information in its head could be worth a fortune to the right people, it represented a set back in the plan of the Dark Lord and Daxton loathed delays.

It took some time but he was finally able to secure a clue to the researchers location Cavilion Zoo. Already his spies had reported that weapons seemed to be deactivated on the surface, even more disturbingly the Force was absent. But like they said back home there was always a way to skin a cat if one was prepared to get messy.

Daxton’s warship exited hyperspace at the edge of the system as he ordered the crew to begin targetting the asteroids with the vessels powerful tractor beams. Should word reach him that negotiations had failed, perhaps it would be time to let feel his displeasure in the way of a nice orbital bombardment from space. After all it would be a shame to waste what was already on hand anyway.

 

[Dondagora]

[SIZE=11pt]Nobody notices the droid. Clanker had been one of the first Confederates to disappear, but given his unstable nature and relatively few organics which knew him, that first disappearance went largely unnoticed. Now here was a B1 droid, painted as he was, amidst a forest of tall trees so high their leaves seemed to blot out the sky, tree houses with wooden bridges stretched between them hundreds of meters high. There was no doubt, this was Endor. Or, at least a close approximation. Endor wasn’t truly Endor without Clanker’s ewok brethren, of course.[/SIZE]


[SIZE=11pt]The droid spent time absorbing his surroundings, quickly finding the hidden window with red people looking through, amused by the strange tribal robot prancing about. He backed away from the window, looking for an exit to this surreal chamber with his sensors, which were of course disabled properly. The droid began panicking, as fragile B1 minds are, and started obsessively climbing trees to the audiences delight.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]Clanker, however, was quite done watching this farce, moving from “his” exhibit to the organics’. The droid amidst the crowd of red alites wore gloves, boots, a red helmet, and a cloak, all together working to fully obscure Clanker’s appearance. What his fellow Confederates would see if they looked out their window was a stranger. Of course, even without his disguise, he doubted they would know him anyway, or be able to define him beyond being a B1. Still, caution never hurt.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]One might ask, from an omniscient point of view, why Clanker was out and about in the public places of the alites with a stunt-double inside one of their strange cages? Well, the answer should be relatively obvious: it was because Clanker sold the Confederacy out. Being as low-level as he was in the army, of course the Confederacy wouldn’t consider Clanker a dangerous leak of information, but nobody notices the droid. The droid that cleans the floors, the droid that patrols the halls, the droid that rolls about performing maintenance. But Clanker does, and he talks to them. Little bits of information they’re allowed to divulge pieced together in his advanced prototype tactic module, which was not typically expected to be in a droid so… disposable. But this information, he sold to the alites through a proxy, his own decoy model easily produced by copying some of his memories onto an empty droid brain. It did not give him pleasure to make a fellow droid go through such an ordeal, of course, but they would understand that it was in service to MS-0, their lord and savior.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]With this information, the alites more than easily slipped through the Confederate defenses, kidnapping a number of their members without a trace. Honestly, while Clanker’s data was good, it wasn’t that[/SIZE][SIZE=11pt] good, to which he had to applaud the alites unexpected talents. Clearly not their first kidnapping. Given Clanker’s part, with permission gained through his proxy, the B1 droid had gained more or less free reign of Vandelheim. And while some may question Clanker’s betrayal of his comrades, there are two things one should understand: Clanker has no real empathy for organics beyond that a human might find for a small animal, and Clanker didn’t really see this as a betrayal. The Confederacy would surely rescue their membership, to that Clanker was fairly confident about. They were also going to clash with the alites at one point or another. As far as Clanker was concerned, he simply sped the inevitable along.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]Now, while conflict would no doubt break out between the Confederacy and the alites (whom the Confederacy would now consider too much of a threat to leave be), Clanker would be getting along with his real objective on Vandelheim while the two grand powers duked it out. Afterall, while the defending against foreign domination, or rescuing comrades-in-arms from inhumane conditions, nobody will notice the droid.[/SIZE]

Spoiler: (Oh, what's this over here?)

 

[Holt]

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[member="Madalena Antares"] [member="Cypher Rage"] [member="Lyra Laurs"]
​

The. . . threat made by the tiny red man, if threat was the right word, did not get a reaction from Holt. If two vibroblades happened to be in his sleeve. . . well, that would be quite the predicament. Good thing that the were sitting back in the bowl, but still the fact that the Alites somehow knew his cover meant that they had access to the Rookery database; sensitive information like that was never put on other CIS servers. If he had a choice now, he'd rather leave the Alites in ashes and let heir secrets, which now included his, burn.But that would not be an option, and he would have to take a more diplomatic approach. Ironic, that he didn't even have his cover as a representative from the Ministry of Influence.

He noticed that, for all their hyper-advanced technology, the Alites were far from gracious hosts. The two tiny red men, barely over five feet tall reclined in their padded hover chairs while leaving the Confederacy delegation to stand in a pathetic huddled mass. It was an obvious slight, but Holt brushed pass it as the Alite's brusquely began the negotiations. "You may speak."

Holt cleared his throat before walking slightly to the middle, facing the two Alites directly. "We've come for the safe release of the Confederacy personnel and civilians that you've abducted, and to in turn make an offer for you to join our Confederacy." His cold, grey eyes stared without emotion directly into the black eyes of the Alites. Fancy technology or not, these aliens would not intimidate someone who had lived as long and seen as much as Holt.

 

[Taozi Fuyuan]

Objective: Zoo
Wearing: Gown
Tags: [member="Aya Clarke"] [member="Krystal Estain"]

Lace breathed a sigh of relief, and ever so slightly leaned into Aya's hand, smiling. "You know I would never let myself be killed. My duty is to protect you, and I can't do that if I die." A small smile graced her face, even as Aya stepped away. She then began clawing away at the hole, while listening to the other two women speak. A growl came from her throat, and a snarl stretched her lips downwards. These "hosts" of theirs were fools.

"Though I know not who you are exactly, the kidnapping of Aya and myself could be... political. Aya being a Viceroy, and I, though just her bodyguard, am our Vicelord's half-sister. Though, there would be much weaker targets for them to take, really. Clearly these fools don't know how much I loathe dresses either. Atrocious failures of fabric."

 

[Aya Clarke]

Objective: Zoo

Wearing: Gown
Weilding: Nothing
Tags: [member="Lace Vi'dreya"] & [member="Krystal Estain"]

"Zerker, don't hurt yourself clawing at the wall. That will only amuse them. I would instead take a leg of a table, that has more force behind it." Her voice towards Lace was noticeably more soft than when it returned to Krystal. "Then it would appear that the Confederacy is the common thread. Were there a personal vendetta, it would not be us three. Small time politics, I doubt Lace would be taken, considering her threat. The only common thread I feel between us and these... heretics' in us is the Confederacy. They have a problem with our government, and have chosen to test our grace."

She took a moment to breathe, and loosened the way her hands were clasped together. Her well maintained hands and nails were digging into her skin, she had to calm just a bit. She had to stay calm, before she made her own mistake. "The Goddess would not take us, where we cannot persevere. She knows our limits, she would not give us an impossible test. We must put our faith in that truth for now."

The holy rage that was filling her was beginning to make her visibly shake, even if her face was remaining stoic. She was supposed to be in control, finally. Finally she was supposed to be getting the time to heal. And now she was torn away and put up as though a beast to gawk at. She couldn't stand it. She wanted to hurt them. She knew it was wrong, but she felt that all the same. She wanted to beat them, completely, utterly, to smite them down into oblivion. How dare they...

She couldn't bear to look up, and locked her gaze on the floor. Her heart was filled with shame for her feelings, her eyes felt on the edge of bursting. She was.. she was... failing. "We just.. have to push onward. Focus on something... else... Krystal, where are you?" Perhaps focusing on their rooms would.. help...

 

[Krystal]

Objective: Zoo
Wearing: Ballgown
Wielding: Set of lock picks, slim small knife
Tags: [member="Aya Clarke"] [member="Lace Vi'dreya"]

~~~~

Dresses weren't that bad. Krystal had spent days searching for the perfect one to wear to that prom, and had fallen in love with this blue one as soon as she had tried it on... but it held such memories of that disaster of a night that she couldn't bring herself to feel badly each time she tore layers off for various other purposes. She could always change into her teenage clothing -- after all, Krystal had always had an impeccable sense of style -- but it might be a little.... scandalous. And since these two women were clearly already taken, she didn't even have anyone to impress.

She'd stick with the dress for now.

Pulling off yet another length of fabric, she began to tie her hair back as she considered what the other women had said. It made sense, crystal clear, to her -- for what better way to prove superiority than a display of captured prisoners? It dated back millenia, from parades of captured soldiers through the streets of the core worlds to every other arrogant display of power. But captured prisoners they would not be much longer. "I'm..." Krystal bit her lip. "The bastards put me in my family home from when I was a kid. But I can't open any of the doors or the windows, I've tried -- it gives you a nasty electric shock. Everything is exactly the way I left it -- even the emergency supplies in a false drawer bottom are still present." As she spoke, she passed another metal pick, this one with a strong flat edge, through to Aya. "You could give this one to Lace -- it might be more effective than the table leg."

Krystal's breath caught. She had been so caught up in the excitement of no longer being alone that she had forgotten... they were being watched. She quickly swung the tapestry that she had moved aside back over the hole, and faced in the other direction. The tapestry was so thin and cheap that it would not impact the sound at all, but Krystal worried that they would alert their captors too soon.

"They have been bringing you food, yes? If we can somehow get all into the same room--" she corrected herself: "cage, I'm certain we could jump the guard. We would have surprise on our side... as well as the fact that they have all clearly underestimated us."

 

[Alkor Centaris]

Why had they come to this world, again?

He remembered the initial thought, at least. Bring the world into the fold by meeting with the local population and discussing terms. Things had gone well sideways from that, however- they had fought with Confederate elements, and he had watched multiple CDF and KO elements taken into custody, along with God's only knew how many others. Alkor himself had come under fire...

...but now, all he could remember was tea, and the cats. They had offered the cats, and they had ushered him quickly away from the location where they had squared off. Comms had gone dead since he came to this place, and he had been unable to check in, but he felt confident that he was free to leave whenever he wanted.

The same had to be true for the others, did it not?

He sipped at his tea- an odd drink, more bitter than what he was used to for formal events, and no sweeteners on hand to offset it- and watched the small creature he had been paired with as it rolled onto its back. There was something remarkably soothing about the beast's company. He did not overly attend it- it seemed to come to him when it wanted to be fooled with- but it purred and released a sound that inspired calm within the Knight Commander.

"What's your name, little guy?" he asked quietly.

 

[Cypher Rage]

This threat did not sit well with him. "You would be wise to avoid using duologue like that in the near future or you will not be returned to your supervisors. Now let's get on with this." he said l
Gesturing to the hanger doors. Perhaps they would percive his threat as a virtual threat or a warning. It's too soon to tell

 

[Lyra Laurs]

Objective: NEGOTIATIONS.
Wearing: SUIT.
Wielding: NOTHING.
Tags: [member="Madalena Antares"] || [member="Cypher Rage"] || @Holt ||

Lyra said nothing to the Alite who demanded their weapons, for she had none to give, and instead watched him. The short red man walked at a steady pace, and nothing in his face conveyed any sort of welcome or willingness to speak. She followed him, walking slowly but trailed by Madalena, who seemed to be bringing up the rear. Despite her statement that she was only here to protect, Lyra was comforted by the Knight's presence here, for judging by her comrades, they would need a strict moderating influence. To have the audacity to sneak in knives, and endanger the lives of not only your team but of all of the kidnapped confederates was so incredibly stupid. And then the Admiral threatened the Alites. Unarmed, without the force, and on a hostile planet, he threatened the hostile creatures that held so many lives in their hands. She was already nervous at how the negotiations would go, and neither man set her fears aside. "With all due respect, sir," she said, spinning to face [member="Cypher Rage"], "the man is simply asking that we abide by the original agreement. Please, exchanges of threats will do nothing." Lyra shot him a death glare, that was oddly reminiscent of Madelena's earlier look at Holt -- a promise of what would have occurred without the force ban. Of course, Lyra's was coming from a seventeen year old girl. That would moderate the effects quite a bit.

And thus, they arrived in the office of the Alites. If Lyra hadn't already been scared, the coffin of a table would have completely set her heart racing. Though she tried to stop it, her racing mind began to imagine various missing Confederates lying dead in the box. She dug her nails into her palm and tried to control her breath. "Though this meeting is of course on unusual terms," she spoke, furthering Holt's statements, "we would still like to extend the usual offer to join us; a kindness we hope can be repaid with the return of our families."

 

[Madalena Antares]

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Wearing: Obsidian Strike Armor
Wielding: Nothing
Tags: [member="Lyra Laurs"] [member="Cypher Rage"] [member="Holt"]

Madalena was not entirely certain what to make of it. She'd done her duty as security and bodyguard on more than one occasion, but she could swear that not a single time in the past had it looked anything like this. With the lives of so many Confederates hanging in how these talks would go, why were these two sent? One saw it fit to try to smuggle weapons in, the second lacked the ability to comprehend that they were facing an enemy that could kill them before anyone knew they'd even landed safely on the planet, and not a trace of their deaths would remain.

Where was the Exarch? Where were the Viceroys? Where were the actual adults?! Archivist Laurs, only seventeen, and a fresh recruit at that, was so far showing maturity than both of them put together.

"You are not impressing anyone, Mr. Rage," Madalena said under her breath, "we are all impotent here when it comes to brute power and the Force and there is no reason to dance around the matter placing useless threats in front of the person who represents those who hold our peers, loved ones, and leaders, in their hands. If your behavior brings us a sliver of hair closer to losing our people, I will send you back to the transfer ship, and afterwards file an official complaint with your superiors."

Once in the conference room, Madalena said nothing at first. Holt, absent of his knives and other weapons he might have brought in with him, spoke up first to the Alite who sat behind his desk. The little man behind the desk seemed to smile. A smiling Alite, Madalena thought, was more terrifying than an Alite with RBF. He was still smiling when Archivist Laurs spoke as well. If anything, his smile seemed to widen after she spoke, his teeth almost a terrifying shade of yellow.

"By your standards, we have 'spied' on your government for months, taken your people without you being able to withstand us or object, or even find a fight while it was happening. If we had not extended this invitation, you would still be running around your own metaphorical tails, wondering where your people have vanished to," he said, his tone giving his amusement away with ease, "What could we possibly gain by joining you?"

Behind the red man, dozens of screens popped up, showing the Confederates gathered in the room footage of their coworkers, their loved ones, and others, in their cells. Little red creatures were looking at them from a safe distance, pointing and laughing, smiling, some trying to encourage certain behaviors. One child even tried to throw what looked like snacks, but the cells resisted it and the food was shot right back at him.

"Look how happy your people are making our children," the sitting Alite said with a smug face, "What is there you could possible offer us that would be worth taking their smiles and happiness away?"

 

[Taozi Fuyuan]

Objective: Zoo
Wearing: Gown
Wielding: Nothing
Tags: [member="Aya Clarke"] [member="Krystal Estain"]

Lace looked up from her clawing at Aya's words, and huffed in response. "With how fragile these pieces of furniture are, I'd be surprised if it lasted longer than 5 seconds." She did walk off to grab a stool leg, however. Placing it through the hole, Lace began moving it back and forth with force, slowly making the hole bigger. However, one movement too forceful later, and the leg broke in half. Growling in frustration, Lace threw the flimsy pieces of obviously fake wood to the ground.

"Stupid pieces of garbage!" Lace screeched in anger, before kicking the wall. This act, unfortunately, was too far from the hole to break the wall more, and only succeeded in the heel of Lace's boot getting stuck in the wall. Her face went red in anger, before another scream of rage ripped through her throat.

 

[Kurayami Bloodborn]

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Location:Cantina near the zoo
Equipment:Armored flightsuit, Corellian ale, datapad

Well, today was certainly an interesting day, he was now on his...second, or was it third, drink? No that seemed wrong, maybe it was more than that. Either way not a major deal, he finally figured that if he went more the style of the N-1 interceptor and either eliminated or sparsely used chromium on the hull, it would push costs down quite a bit. Maybe just utilize the chromium in the master suite, and small amounts in the other quarters. Still looks good, but it dropped the cost into the high fifty thousand range for a fully customized variant with the most basic version coming in at the high thirty thousand range. A ship far more people could afford. Okay so that was one down.

Fio had a history with Sith and Imperial factions, so maybe drawing from one of the older designs and updating that, like he had with his S-13 would be a good idea. Now it was just finding one of the old fighters he liked enough and felt he could easily modify for today's battlefield. It would take time to sort through the sheer number of old blueprints in archives, but he knew he would find something eventually. Taking another sip of whatever number drink he was on, he set about his task of finding a good candidate.

 

[Cypher Rage]

"Fine, No more threats. As long as they agree." he said. " Of course, we agree" the short red man replied. " Now, please escort us to where the negotiations will be taking place. But, before we begin I would like to ask something. Is there any way you will give us any information to let us know whether or not our people are safe" he asked. " Yes, of course. They are safe. For now. Any more threats and theres a possibility they wont be" the little red man replied. Great Defiance isn't going to work this time.

[member="Holt"]
[member="Madalena Antares"]
[member="Lyra Laurs"]

 

[Holt]

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[member="Madalena Antares"] [member="Cypher Rage"] [member="Lyra Laurs"]​

​

Holt gave a quick sideways glance towards Marshal Rage, a silent plea for him to remain silent. Sure, Holt had tried to bring knives to the meeting, but knives had a variety of uses. Threats, however, got them nowhere closer to their goal of releasing their Confederate brothers and sisters. Defiance would definitely not work today. "Sir, while it is true that your technology is far superior than ours, there are threats in this galaxy that even your people would not be well-equipped to face. Vast empires such as the Sith and the Mandalorians would not hesitate at the chance to seize your technology, and they will not ask kindly. Their military would sooner enslave your people and let your world burn than treat with you," Holt said pragmatically. It was not a threat; Holt was merely stating what others in the galaxy would do to the Alites, given the chance.

"However, the Confederacy is well equipped with a vast armada capable of defending our borders, and yours. On top of that, your world would be opened to the economic might of the Confederacy, as well, where your technology could make you kings of a corporate empire. The lives that could be improved, the worlds that could be improved. . . the Alites would go down in the archives as the people who ended poverty, who ended hunger, who ended even war. Is it such a terrible thing to sacrifice your children's smiles to give them the life of being powerful, being renown, being famous throughout the entire galaxy?" Holt's small speech even impressed himself. He ruefully remarked to himself that he was playing the role of diplomat incredibly well, even if it was a farce that had been exposed by the technologically-advanced race of red-skineed men. He might've even impressed the judgemental Obsidian Knight, who knew.

The tiny Alite considered Holt's words, spindly red fingers pressing together as he thought. He turned to the Archivist, wordlessly asking if she could back up Holt's promises. Holt's mouth slightly opened, but he held back his tongue as his eyes turned to the Archivist. Perhaps they were closer than Holt thought they were to retrieving their stolen Confederates.

 

[Alexander]

Tag: [member="Scherezade deWinter"]​

This was not ideal.

In one instant, the mercenary was sitting slack jawed after a boxing match with his favorite redhead in the Galaxy. The next, he awoke to the sensation of grass underneath his head. Upon creaking his eyes open, what he found was so familiar that it made his stomach turned on end. He was on Endelaan. Ephraim somehow, someway, he returned home. The only problem with this was the fact...that he did everything in his power to avoid the place of his birth like the plague. That alone caused him to think that this was a dream.

In the next few moments, this delusion sank further into his mind - for when he raised his hand, the Force was no longer his ally. It boggled his mind. Surely [member="Shakti Sweet"] had hit him one too many times and he was now having a coma-induced nightmare.

At least, that was the original delusion. Over time, he wandered about the enclosure in an attempt to get his bearings; only to find a conclusion to his surroundings in the form of the pen handlers. Food was offered - a small opening literally appeared out of thin air and a small tray appeared with a cooked rabbit upon it. Ephraim gaped - and it was in that moment that he knew he was captive. From that point on, a scowl formed upon his face - for there was nothing that he could imagine that could make the scenario even worse.

So as he wandered about, leg of rabbit in hand, the mercenary soon realized it could get much...much worse. For he was not alone within the pen. No no. The furthest thing from it. He'd know those eyes anywhere. They used to belong to an infant face that would giggle and cling to his leg as they played so long ago. They used to belong to a face that pouted when he wouldn't share the sweets he stole from the kitchens. They belonged to [member="Scherezade deWinter"].

"Well. Either you're one hell of a hologram or they picked the wrong woman to kriff with." came his casual greeting. After all, what the heck else was he supposed to say? Upon descending to the ground, he then tore off a leg of the cooked beast and offered it to her. "Hungry?"

 

[Lyra Laurs]

Objective: NEGOTIATIONS.
Wearing: SUIT.
Wielding: NOTHING.
Tags: Madalena Antareshttp://starwarsrp.net/user/20107-madalena-antares/ || Cypher Rage || @Holt ||

--------------------------------------------------------------------

Lyra's breath caught as the Alite pulled up the various screens, and she nearly drew blood from her palms as she clenched her fists. It took all she had in her to not vault the desk and punch the alien right in his smug face -- but she would not. For it would accomplish little more than momentary satisfaction, and there were much more important things at play here.

So she stayed silent as the other men spoke, wondering just how Admiral Rage had managed to climb the ranks to where he now was with a temper like that. As Holt spoke, she seemed to find, underneath all of his flowery language, a true belief in his Confederacy and the freedom and independence that they stood for. "Sir," she said in response to the Alite, "we seek the same ends you do. Protecting your homeworld and allowing your children the freedom to laugh and play, we wish to unify and protect. While yours are laughing, our families languish in cages -- we are certain there is a world in which we can all coexist, and their smiles will not need to be sacrificed. For anything."

Perhaps, for once, her youth would work for her -- for she embodied the very freedom the Confederacy represented.

 

[Scherezade deWinter]

Cut from the Force, Scherezade did not sense the movement around her. Her own senses were dulled. It was as though she'd become nearly blind and deaf to the world around her, even if the world around her consisted of nothing but a faux meadow with grass she could not pull out of the ground. Even her Blood Hound senses were off; though she was not entirely certain if this was because there was no one around, or because the red visitors were so far away.

It was unnerving.

It was only when he got close enough that she actually heard him. Scherezade twisted around, one knee to the ground while the other was ready to launch at whoever it might have been, but her eyes befell not an enemy, but… @Ephraim. The man she had seen at precious few instances before this, the man she knew was her brother because she had been able to scent it on him, smell his blood.

But there was no smell now. There was nothing. Only a man who talked to her as though he knew her as more than a mere passing face. But she had no damned clue who he was beyond the sweet scent that ran through his blood, beyond the smell of Endelaan that stuck to his pores.

He sat next to her, and Scherezade very carefully returned to her seating position as well. He didn't look like the red skinned men, so he was either a hologram himself or… They were sharing this space. The red men knew about Endelaan. It was not a comforting thought. If home was in danger, she was going to have to pack herself up, pack her sister up, pack anyone she could grab of the family, and head there to protect it. But did the mere knowledge the red men possess about it put it in danger? She had no answers. She had nothing.

Carefully, she took the rabbit's leg from… She didn't even have a name for him. The last time she had looked him up she did not have the clearances; she had not thought to check again after joining the Ministry.

"Always," she answered, her voice quiet. Her body might not have been in a fighting position, but she was still ready for an incoming attack. Sometimes letting loose was a better alternative. How much strength did she even have in this strange place, without the Force to enhance her?

Scherezade wished Madalena was there. Madalena was the one who knew how to make small talk, knew how to break ice and turn awkward situations into warm and flowing ones. Scherezade was more like a battering ram against puddles of water.

"You are a son of Nessarose and Diomedes and you smell of Endelaan," she said after taking a single bite from the meat, "that makes you my brother. But who are you? What are you? Why do I not know anything about you? And why have you been avoiding me all this time?"

 

[Madalena Antares]

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Wearing: Obsidian Strike Armor
Wielding: Nothing
Tags: [member="Lyra Laurs"] [member="Cypher Rage"] [member="Holt"]

The negotiations had started. Madalena remained silent, looking over at the other three as they spoke. She yearned to have the Force back, to be able to speak with all of them and adjust verbal strategies via telepathy, but it was not to be. For better or worse, they were working together yet apart at the same time.

The little red man behind the desk listened as Holt went first. The threats of the Sith Empire had no visible effect on him beyond the what now seemed like an eternally amused expression on his face.

"The Sith and the Mandalorians are of no concern," he waved those concerns away, "And your Armadas are paper airplanes compared to what we have. What you suggest would improve matters on your end, not ours. We are not philanthropists, little Rook, and we have no interest in bettering your pathetic existence at the expense of ours."

Madalena sighed Holt had given a good speech. Under any under circumstances, it was probably much more likely it work. But they weren't dealing with normal circumstances. They were dealing with little red men who liked zoos.

Looking at Laurs, the red man continued. "And what of all of your zoos, human?" he asked, "You have so many of them, spread on many worlds. Your Confederacy claims to be against slavery yet you enslave all those you see as beneath you on the sentience ladder. We, do the same. You are no better to us than a bantha or a llama is to you," he leaned back in his chair, "But we're vegetarians."

Rising from behind his desk, the red man stood to his full height. Without the chair to raise him up, he was even shorter than the first man they'd seen, reaching just barely 4"9.

"Now unless you have anything of essence to offer," he nodded, "Go back to your homes. Tell your people to cease coming to this planet, to try to get close to us, and there will be no more disappearances. For every instant that we catch you in your little attempts, we will take a thousand of your people."

 

[Duckie Talon]

​

A pair of beady black eyes peered out from the shrubbery, a yellow head tilting from side to side, ensuring the coast was clear. He was victorious! The evil menace of the feline monster had been defeated, the creature never stood a chance against his superior intellect, although the claws had gotten rather to close for comfort. The duckling waddled out of the bushes, glancing around before he made started preening, trembling slightly as he remembered the feeling of the claws almost brushing his back. A rustle left him startled, head flying up like a meerkat as a hiss could be heard, sylibant and terrifying sending him scrabbling for safety, rushing towards the nearest building. The evil creature wouldn't follow him there...would it? A loud cry split the yard as he waddled, where was hte slobbery one when he needed him.