High Stakes and Who is He? (TSE Dominion of Troiken)

[Tabigarashu Madara]

Hirou tipped their head up and to the side. Their fur rippled slightly. Amusement, but it wasn't body language a non-Nezumi was likely to pick up on.

"Apology accepted!" They squeaked. They wouldn't say 'it was fine' or 'okay'. Because it wasn't really. But the apology was genuinely given and genuinely accepted. "It happens a lot," they added, nose quivering.

Honestly, as much as it wasn't fun, it was helpful to Hirou when it came to their job. No one suspected the tiny mouse as intelligent, let alone an agent of the Inquisition. It was not enjoyable, to be underestimated, in their experience. But it could be useful.

"Lord Mecetti!" Hirou exclaimed in recognition. "Yes, I am familiar with you and Didact's work for the Empire."

As well as the connection between a certain other company and the bridge that was Antigone. Their position in the Saaraishash was a nebulous one, without an official rank title (oh, plenty of them but none of them that really meant anything and Hirou was indeed aware of that. That did not remove the pride they had in their accomplishments, however), but there was little that the Nezumi was not aware of in the agency's intelligence. Much of it, after all, had been gathered by their kin.

"And no, I am not here on behalf of the Saaraishash today," the little creature tilted their head in the other direction. Of course, they didn't say that the Saaraishash was not handling an operation here. Just that they were not a part of it.

The tiny mouse beamed. "It's my day off!"

For all of the official and polite chatter, a little bit of Hirou themselves shined through there. It did not in truth take much to make Hirou happy, and they were clearly pleased with the day off. In part it was the break itself. But in part was also knowing that they worked hard, and it was well deserved.

"What brings you to Troiken?" they inquired politely.

[member="Itash Mecetti"]

 

[Darth Ophidia]

OBJECTIVE: A: President Who?

2. C9-KK7​

Oh dear, oh dear. It seemed to be all falling apart, didn't it?

"Lord Zava Zann, I am so glad to find you." "It is I, C9-KK7 Imperial Relations Droid in the service of Firipp Kang." "Have you seen my master?"

Lord Zann turned sharply and gave C9 a glare that set even his processors on edge, and forced him to take a step back. The red sith looked the droid over, then looked up towards the stairs.

"I haven't seen your master, droid. Go bother someone else."

Zann then turned back to his conversation with a lovely devoranian female. She leaned in and whispered something in his ear that C9's audio sensors could not quite detect, but his face emotion recognition program detected some kind of excitement coming from Lord Zann. A second individual, some variety of human whose sex was indeterminable, grabbed a hold of a portion of the red sith that was out of C9's visual range. Together the two scantily clad attendants moved the diplomat away from the droid.

Once more, C9 was quite perturbed, uncertain at what was happening..

"Why, how rude." "Something odd is going on here."

C9 looked around, exasperated with the unwillingness of his compatriots to help, and he cursed the blasted smoke and heavy air of this house. If only he could get a better overview of the situation. Wait - Overview indeed. "By my circuits."

Excitedly, the droid waggled his way to the stairs and slowly ascended. At the top he turned and looked out over the vast hall. "By the factory."

 

[Joycelyn Zambrano]

The two fighters momentarily broke away.

Joycelyn looked at the shistavanen's broken staff and raised two fingers to call for the attention of the crowd and the judges. She closed her fist and held it out in front of her opponent while lowering the tip of her sword.

"Fists." She spoke. The wolf-man smiled and lowered the jagged spike. "Fists!"

Attendants ran out to gather the weapons. They picked up both the jagged shaft and the dislodged spearhead. Joycelyn's red-clad, miraluka handmaiden respectfully gathered Zaudraka from her grasp. Joycelyn surveyed the ground with her feet, looking for shards left over, but she found none. She wanted this to be a fair fight. To win fair and square would give her the most benefit. Why, in fact, she was almost at a disadvantage compared to the shistavanen's natural weapons.

The two fighters dropped into their ready positions at the first sound of the trumpet, and they launched at each other for the second. The shistavanen reached out with a clawed hand, seeking to draw blood early and get the second point, but Joycelyn swayed out of the way. The giant of a woman was able to crouch lower than her opponent had anticipated. And when she rose again, she did so with an uppercut that sent him reeling for a second. Joycelyn followed up with a kick that sent the dog-man tumbling back, but while he hit the sand, he was able to roll right back up on his feet.

Joycelyn took the initiative now, making a series of jabs with her left at the shistavanen to keep him at a distance. Each time, she inched a little forward, pressing him back, but before she knew it, he had passed inside her guard. She tried to bring her right hand in for a swing, but he had already crossed the distance and a knee hit her square in the abdomen.

 

[Darth Imperia]

Imperia watched, with the tiniest hint of amusement, as her hostess examined the delicate figure of Akemi with sharp, sea-green eyes. The look she gave him was one that the Knight knew well, having given it at least once to each of the servants in her not-unimpressive retinue. It was cold, calculating, critical – the same look that a farmer gave to his livestock.

“He’s one of my favorites. Not the most useful of my servants, but loyal enough to make up for it ten times over.” Akemi blushed, although whether it was out of pride or embarrassment wasn’t clear. Not that his mistress particularly cared; it was cute either way.

Imperia smiled as the Admiral turned that rapacious look upon her, teeth bared to match her hostess, and although she lacked the fangs, the expression was every bit as predatory.

“Business, yes. As you probably know, the Empire has officially outlawed slavery.” Imperia’s face twisted into a disgusted scowl as she spoke. “The good news, however, is that this is likely a temporary state of affairs. Once the people of the Empire become acclimated to Sith rule, I’m sure we can return to something at least vaguely resembling the natural order of things. In the meantime, however, there are a few exceptions.” The knight’s scowl morphed into a wicked grin, and the blue of her eyes shifted to a sulfurous yellow.

“And this is where you come in. I’m willing to pay you a bounty – let’s say eight hundred credits – for each combat capable individual you deliver to me, with a twenty-five percent bonus if they’re Force Sensitive. In addition, once per Galactic Standard Month, if you desire, I will train a slave of your choosing in whatever skills you like. I can make anyone you want into anything you want.” Imperia’s voice took on a strange tone at the end, almost dreamlike, as she laced her speech with the Force. It was a subtle thing, meant to display her skill rather than actually affect any change to the Admiral’s mind – Imperia may have been a slaver, but she wasn’t rude. Then, suddenly, she was back to normal, her smile professional and her voice friendly.

“Now, would you like to negotiate?”

--

[member="Verse Taggart"]

 

[LT-137]

Objective C: The Swindler of Veterned.


A heavy sigh of relief slipped through Khonsu’s thinly pressed lips, as the Xexto foreman announced that the dock crew were finished loading the crates onto the ship’s extended platform. The tensile restraints of boredom had taken hold, since Lanius had taken it upon himself to handle the payment, and it was difficult for a man of action to oversee the tedium taking place before his eyes. However, with their task being completed, that meant it was now up to the Sun Guard and his men to take over, stowing the crates away within the Corvette for the journey ahead.

While it wasn’t as exciting as fighting atop the battlefield, it was something that would keep his mind from submitting to idleness.

As the last of the multi-limbed creatures had departed from the extended platform, the Twisuns Legate ordered the command crew to retract the deck and waited for them to comply. Mere moments later, the mechanical creaks of activation flooded his surroundings, accompanied by the ground beneath his feet shifting. It seems the command crew was becoming bored too, as it usually took them more than a few seconds to respond to his commands.

Chuckling to himself, as he activated his suit’s magnetic stabilization soles, Khonsu waited for the retraction process to finish. Once the dust and the interior mechanisms began to settle back into their respective places, the Sun Guard Officer began rounding up his subordinates for a period of manual labour. After they had been collected and set to the task, Khonsu decided to sneak a peek into one of the many crates that were brought aboard, to see if his superiors had previously inspected the product before paying for it.

When the lid of a nearby crate had been torn open, the Sun Guard’s face adopted the visage of revulsion. The crate was filled with spoiled goods. Slamming the lid back atop the container, the Sun Guard moved to another, and another, finding the same spoiled contents within each of the crates.

That wasn’t good.

They’ve been had.​

Rushing back towards his helmet and swiftly donning it in a single gesture, Khonsu rapidly signaled for his compatriot to activate his comms. He needed to stop the fellow mercenary from paying these vile wretches for the despoiled product. With his fingers tapping the exterior of his helmet, the Sun Guard dashed through the closing maw of the cargo bay and leapt onto the docking platform - before taking off towards the entrance...

 

[Darth Carnifex]

And boy, was it a good show.

One of the racer's engines decoupled on the sharp turn into the starting zone, causing him to spin wildly out of control and hurtle violently towards the stands. Fortunately, the podracer impacted against the protective shield barrier that separated the crowded stands from the track floor. There was a great explosion, fire washing over the shield as the pilot and his vehicle was blown apart by the explosive force. The crowd cheered in reaction to the violent death, spurring on the chants for the remaining racers to grant the audience a spectacle that they wouldn't forget anytime soon.

Doviculous was on the edge of his seat now, his eyes glued to the holo-screen as his racer sped past the racer initially in first place, twisting and turning around the final stretches before the grand finale... The anticipation was mounting, there was no way he could lose now, he had this whole race in the bag.

But alas.

A reptavian animal had somehow gotten onto the track on the last lap and was standing right in front of the finish line with a dumbfounded look on its beaked face. As Doviculous' racer approached, it didn't even deign to hop out of the way or fly up into the air, it just stood there with its bewildered expression as it was sucked into the engine intake and died a horrific death. The resulting blockage caused catastrophic engine failure, propelling the racer off of the track and into a stone wall where he exploded in a fiery eruption of metal.

Doviculous was speechless, but it didn't last. After roaring in Huttese and letting loose a string of expletives, he upturned the booth table and flung it out from the VIP balcony into the stands below. "I fething hate this place! GAH!!" He stormed out angrily, muttering more expletives as his floozies and decraniated servants followed after him.

 

[Joycelyn Zambrano]

Air was pushed out of Joycelyn's lungs as the knee hit her abdomen. A spark went through her head, a whisper of doubt saying give up, but the fire of Vahl that burned within her answered in her mental voice, a resounding no. it was painful and she felt like sick was going to project from her mouth, but determination held it down and pushed her further on.

The shistavanen could tell it had landed well and opted to land the next hit before she could recover. Placing one hand on her shoulder, he brought an elbow around in a circular swing, seeking to plant it right in her temple and knock her down for the win. However, the giant was not so easily vanquished, as he would feel when the inertia quickly shifted.

Her long arms wrapped around the shistavanen's clawed legs. She grabbed on to his calves, fingers digging in like vices, and pulled them out to the side. Her hips turned with the momentum, gathering force in the swing. The arena's champion stretched out in the swing and clawed at the sandy ground, trying to find purchase and turn this movement around, but she had him flying too high. After swinging him around once like a blanket, she brought him over her shoulder like she swung her sword.

The impact threw sand off in every direction. The sound was audible for all to hear as a THWACK of living flesh hitting compacted sand. She had thrown him to the ground like a wet towel. He stared up at her breathlessly, and she looked at him with a moment's decision. Her foot lifted up, hovering over the champion's throat.

Then it stamped down. He closed his eyes in anticipation, but opened them again, still alive. She had made a demonstration of it only, and stood right next to his head. The crowd roared, ribbons were thrown, and Joycelyn extended a hand to her defeated foe.

Rise in honour.

 

[Itash Mecetti]

[member="Tabigarashu Madara"]

Itash bowed his head in acknowledgement.

"The one and the same." A soft confirmation before his own eyes passed the various members of the crowd. Who of them could be an agent? An assassin in waiting? An informant? The secret of the Saaraishash laid in many things, but their intelligence apparatus was widely-known. Whilst the regular troops might wear gilded white masks and lightsaber pikes... those were just the face and hammer of the organization. There was so much more to it than that and Itash had a distinct pleasure trying to gain some of that intelligence himself.

A difficult affair, but the challenge was welcome.

"Indeed? That is amusing, because I am also here on a day-off." If the Saaraishash was here in force, then their situations had more than one similarity with the operations Didact was conducting for the Empire.

"It is not my usual avenue, but there is a certain... allure to it, no?" Instead of searching for hidden informants Mecetti refocused, watching the stalls and the bustle of the crowd. "I wouldn't want to keep you though, Knight Hirou. Enjoy your vacation and perhaps we will meet again." In truth part of him felt a touch uncomfortable when it came to this little mouse.

They reminded him keenly of First.

That... had been a complicated affair.

 

[Darth Ophidia]

OBJECTIVE: A: President Who?

1. Firipp Kang​

So how do you find my festivities?

Sometimes in one's life, one wishes one could shut one's damn mouth before speaking. These moments most often occur in the most dire moments, when your oration may make or break your future, or the futures of others. At this moment, Firipp Kang felt himself walking straight into such a moment. First impressions were everything, and what he said here and now could make or break the ascension of Troiken into the fold of the Empire. He tried to steer himself, avoid embarrassment.

"I found it most distracting, really."

His blood froze in the wake of his words. It was not a polite thing to say. Why, he had been slapped for less just this very day. A split second of tension hung between them, ticking away.

"Hah!" The xexto made a burst of laughter. "Why that is exactly the point. This is how we defended our political interests form the Silverika, the Resurgika, and the Dominika when they came knocking on our doors." "We quite simply-" A second glass was poured by the President's assistant as the xexto himself climbed into the high chair behind the massive desk. The cool drink was handed to Kang and he took his place in a seat opposite the desk. "Smoked them out."

"A most industrious strategy, but" Firipp took a sip of his drink for dramatic effect "But here you are, Imperika" "Here I am"

There was a moment of silence between the two as Firipp allowed the President to inspect him. "Your terms?" Firipp produced a chip from one of his pockets and presented it. The assistant placed it in a datapad for the President to read. The xexto looked at it carefully, muttering under his breath, occasionally nodding, sometimes frowning. "These are steep." "But profitable, no doubt." The President raised his eye-ridges and nodded.

"I will endorse it, amassador?" "Kang, Firipp Kang."

Hands were shook and Lord Kang was personally escorted out of the office alongside President Bulmbuli Xob. At the balcony, looking out, Firipp found his droid looking out into the smoke-filled hall. "C9, how nice of you to join us." "Master Kang! How wonderful to see you." "This must be the President, I am most honoured." "C9, dispatch message A6." "At once, my Lord."

 

[Arage Bao]

[member="Darth Imperia"]

A smirk developed as Imperia spoke and they measured one another.

Sadly it was only a temporary development that made way for a more muted response once the outlawing of slavery was mentioned. It was beyond Taggart why the Empire would install such a short-sighted law. Did it not make perfect sense with their own creed? The powerful and strong ruled, while the weak either perished or made themselves useful to avoid annihilation.

The strong persevered.

The weak were enslaved.

"I am aware of our current predicament, yes. It is the reason of my presence here today." Verse informed her politely as she watched with interest how passion seemed to take hold of Imperia. Eyes shifting towards a different color, sulfuric. If that bothered the Zygerrian she didn't show it. "Mm, I do so enjoy exceptions to the written rule, Lady Imperia."

Verse listened and the longer she listened the broader her smile became.

The touch of the Sith's mind against hers was noted, in response Verse touched her back like a cat would. A deep purr that would resonate through her body as a polite reply.

"Mm, well, the combat ready ones I have are of exceptional stock. This requires an exceptional price, you understand." A light shrug followed soon. "I would be willing to part with them for one point six." Which was double what she offered, but Imperia's offer had been on the low-end. This was simply the way the game was played.

"I would love to see your skill." Verse added after a moment of thought.

 

[Tabigarashu Madara]

"I like it," came the cheerful reply. "It's very colourful and lively. Like a Nezumi nest ship, but bigger."

In a way, Hirou preferred things a little messy. Nezumi were not, as a whole, a particularly neat and organized group of people. They slept in piles, and kept collections of special things they had found throughout their lives. Their families were large and loud and messy, but also so, so very important. While most people looked at a place like Troiken and saw a hodgepodge and struggle, Hirou saw the familiar.

"It was nice to meet you, Lord Mecetti!" It was simply put but genuine, the Nezumi's head tilting to the side and eyes crinkling in what was clearly a smile. "Perhaps we will!"

With a nod of their head, the Nezumi was off again. A soft, cheerful whistle was caught, drifting through the crowd but only for a moment before it was swallowed up, along with its progenitor, but the throng.

Hirou had already decided that they would be having an excellent day today. And that interaction had simply confirmed it.

It was going to be a lovely day.

[member="Itash Mecetti"]

 

[Darth Ophidia]

The Pale Assassin opened her eyes to the chatter of her droid next to her. The world resettled around her after her use of farsight. It first, the world spun around her, but with force of will she made it seize. It was a side-effect of detaching oneself from one's body and seeing what was elsewhere. Still, the skill was useful, especially when observing matters critical to the Empire.

"Yes, Darling?"

The droid handed the Sith Lord a datapad and stood by like a dog awaiting treats.

Ophidia inspected the contents of the datapad, and it contained a few messages that should have been delivered to her sooner: Reports of engagements between the Sith-Imperial Armada and the rumoured pirates plaguing the hyperlanes; a distress call from one of the diplomats, quickly followed by a cancellation, and then a confirmation of the President's endorsement of the treaty that would bind them to the Sith Empire.

After looking at the signature, she read through the reports on the actions against the pirates. The Sith-Imperial Armada, spearheaded by such Sith as [member="Darth Venefica"] , [member="Vanessa Vantai"] , [member="Darth Prazutis"] and [member="Jantar Keltainen"] had approached different cells of pirate activity. With various degrees of difficulty, they seemingly dispatched of or severely routed the pirate holds.

The simultaneous attacks had left the pirates with nowhere to run, and those that did not surrender to Imperial Law fled towards the Core or further out into the Outer Rim. A message had been sent once and for all: There would be no unsanctioned piracy in the Sith Empire, and all who challenge that law will be dealt with with extreme prejudice.

A smile curled over her lips as she closed the pad and looked at her droid where he stood waiting for her response.

"Dispatch a message to the Emperor, we have Troiken."

 

[Onrai]

Five minutes passed, and just as Vanessa was about to give the order to open fire, a response came in from one of the Invictus Star Destroyers. Upon answering the holocall, an image of a man wearing a very worn out uniform of the old Sith Empire, complete with scraggly beard and bags under his eyes, responded. "This is Captain Vendrick Mortesyan of the Star Destroyer Invidious​. We have no quarrel with you, Darth Pandeima. We will head for the location you have sent us. Thank you for showing us mercy after such wayward behavior." The holocall ended as the former Sith ships began to jump out.

Vanessa looked over whoever else was on the bridge. More assets were now at her disposal - how fortunate. She could now redirect them through the setting of the Greater Maldrood. How fortunate that these former Imperial naval forces would be given an opportunity to engage in less barbaric techniques, for the service of the Empire.

 

[Sebastian Thel]

Location: Veterned
Objective: Bust open somebody's house
Allies: [member="Lisanne Escher"]

"Oh I don't mind." Sebastian said with a wave of his hand over his back. He continued to write with the notebook laid out on top of the dumpster. "Just as long as the place is tidy." He almost stopped himself from saying, but was unable to hold his tongue. While he did not mind grime or rust, he disliked mess at the best of times. As Lisanne warned him about keeping any features of the design to himself, he gulped with concern, wondering if he could avoid blurting out any details in the open.

"I'm always prepared." He affirmed as he looked through his glasses at the width of the window above the dumpster. While Sebastian could never bring himself to break into somebody's house if they had done nothing wrong, those who stole from others were fair game. He gripped his notebook and stood upright, surveying the distance between the dumpster and the window, while deciding whether Lisanne and himself were better off breaking through the front or the back.

"Calculations aren't always necessary, but they help me stay calm." Sebastian explained as he closed the notebook and slid his pen back into his pocket. "If I don't have time to write any, I sometimes get mad." With a chuckle, he determined that the front door would be their best option. There was no way either of them could fit through the bathroom window. However, the window was not entirely useless.

Sebastian grabbed the edge of the dumpster and hauled himself on top, then stood upright and procured a spanner. He rattled the bolt holding the window shut, until the sill came loose and the pane opened. When he peered inside, he could see a fierce looking receptionist with a rifle below her desk, adjoining a bar filled with criminals and other armed rabble. The woman, who appeared to be Zabrack, although Sebastian could not tell for the scarf around her head, must have heard him open the window and turned around.

Jumping downward, Sebastian just about fell clean off the dumpster as he avoided her gaze. He leaped onto the ground and brushed down the front of his clothes. "Alright, the landlady has a weapon and the bar is filled with criminals." Sebastian affirmed while cupping his chin in thought.

"We need to distract her first, then I'll pick the lock on the front door." If they could somehow get the landlady to run outside while leaving the door unlocked, that would be ideal. The distraction needed to be urgent in nature and cause her to flee. "How do you feel about lighting this dumpster on fire?" Sebastian offered to Lisanne as he listened to the cantina music play from inside. "If we can get her to run outside while leaving the door unlocked, that would be even more ideal." He mused aloud.

"Once she runs outside, you need to get back around to the front and cover me from the criminals in the bar." Sebastian explained as he allowed Lisanne to consider the plan. "She may have a master pass key which opens every apartment." He thought, suddenly realized he had left his glasses on his ears, which he hooked back onto one of his bracers.

 

[LT-137]

Objective C: The Swindler of Veterned.

The chase through Troiken’s port had been swift, as Khonsu barreled through anything and anyone that stood in his way. His hard-earned coin had seemingly gone to waste with a cargo hold of spoiled goods, be damned if anyone or anything sought to deny him his wrath. The man that swindled them would get his comeuppance, and it was likely that he’d had a stern conversation with his superior - detailing the very intricacies of doing business and how the man should always inspect the cargo before making a deal.

After several minutes of rushing through crowded streets, the Sun Guard had honed in on his fellow Officer and found him in the company of the man that sold them the despoiled goods. For some reason, Lanius had decided to haggle with the creature for a better price, essentially trying to break the already agreed upon amount - citing something that mattered little in the end. The Thyrsian believed that it was a fortuitous turn of events that the deal wasn’t complete and that his fellow Legate still clutched onto the credit chit.

Rounding the corner and spying both of the men, Khonsu had slowed his mechanically enhanced sprint to a leisurely pace - one that didn’t reek of the seething anger that burned beneath his burnished armour. It wouldn’t do to spook the miscreant before he had gotten in range. As he made his approach, the Sun Guard began wordlessly ordering his armour’s system to activate the darts mounted on either side of his knee-plates. He’d hamstring the creature with a paralytic toxin first, before coming in close for unleashing his judgment upon the man.

Whatever name this man went by was of little concern to him. He didn’t even need to call out his name to garner his attention, but by the time the man had noticed a second Sun Guard - it was already too late.

A single dart rocketed forward and burrowed into the creature’s exposed hip, injecting its venomous payload into the man’s supple flesh. Lanius wore a look of confusion on his face, before leaping forward and gathering the man in his arms. “What the-” He had begun before Khonsu ripped the falling creature from his arms and threw him into the nearby alleyway. “Lanius, take those credits and return to the ship. Inform the Praetor that the goods were spoiled and that the deal’s off.”

“What about this cretin?” Lanius asked, pocketing the Credit Chit and searching for nearby witnesses. “Are we going to let him off easy?”

Withdrawing his sidearm, and ejecting the magazine, Khonsu smiled - darkly.

“Oh no. We’re not letting him off easy at all.”

Sliding out one of the slugs from the cartridge, the Sun Guard dropped the empty pistol back into the opened holster. The creature didn’t know what was inside the jacketed shell, but his eyes were glazed with fear. Khonsu didn’t care. He slipped the silvered slug between the creatures paralyzed lips and carefully placed it between his stiffened teeth. Sliding a slime-covered thumb out of the alien’s mouth, he placed both of his burnished hands on top of and beneath the creature’s mouth. Without a single word or grunt of effort, the mercenary pushed - only cracking a smile after the slug had been broken.

In seconds after the casing had been breached; the alien’s face began to dissolve and cave inwards like rotten fruit.

“Let this be a lesson to those that follow in your footsteps,” Khonsu said, as his helmet recorded the dispensed justice. “Don’t kark with the Sun Guard.”