Chevu Visz
Question everything

Location: ZygerriaIt was a mission that was probably doomed from the start, but at least it could be said that their intentions were good. It began like any other Alliance mission; master and student were eliminating a Zygerrian slave ring. They’d done this sort of thing before, like on Gos Hutta, when Chevu Visz had disguised herself as a slave girl in order to gain access to the slaving operation’s command center. A few mind tricks on a few guards later, and she let [member="Coren Starchaser"] in.
To her dismay, Chevu once again found herself in a ridiculous outfit that left little to the imagination.
How it got botched Force only knew, but at the end of it, there were over three dozen dead, some of them, not innocent, but less guilty than the slavers themselves. The slaves had been freed, but there was no one left to question or arrest. Just...bodies.
Chevu was pissed. It wasn’t supposed to turn into a total massacre, and the intel they would have gotten from the captured slavers would have allowed them to infiltrate other rings or put other buyers of human and near-human stock behind bars. It was an utter waste. What was she supposed to tell Master Omai when she did a post-mortem with him on Sullust? She could hear the Grand Marshal now: "Thank you for the report Knight Visz, we'll see about re-instating your Marshal rank next year, perhaps."
Chevu’s barefeet slapped hard on the stone floor as she ran up to Coren, eyes narrowed with rage and upper lip curled in a snarl. Stumbling, she almost tripped over the body of a purple Rodian with his head opened up like a ripe melon. The Force was a raging storm around her, a swelling sea, brimming with her angry emotions. The Mirialan was dangerously close to using the dark side like she’d done on Alaris Prime, but her energy teetered right on the edge. She wasn’t there yet.
“What the frell, Coren!?”
Had he been drinking again?