Campaign Into Darkness II: The Depths

[Thal Mantis]

Coruscant
​

Thal felt it odd, that it was raining here. But he was glad he had a coat. He couldn't imagine what the water above him went through to get down to this level. It was odd to look up and not see the sky, but instead, more levels of steel and floating speeders. Ice-blue eyes scanned the street, on his way to a dropsite.

He learned a lot during his personal war- including the use of dead-drops, storage facilities. Coruscant was good, because it was just as much of an information hub as it was a transportation hub. It was easy to move through the Core, from Silver, to Alliance, to Confederate, and to the Outer Rim and Wild Space from here. The hyperlanes were too advantageous.

He began storing things here- a warehouse once used by the Silver Jedi's own, Setter Ryburn . The Shed was perfect for Thal. Off the books, forgotten by everyone involved- as far as he knew, Razor team was dissolved, it's original members missing or dead, and the location of the Shed being a secret. Only one other person knew that Thal was using it currently. Thal walked forward, pressing the keypad, glancing at a piece of paper in his hand. The key code had something to do with Romi Jade . Only Setter knew what it meant- the numbers weren't to any communicator. But he found it in the Razor team's effects with 'ROMI' written under the numbers.

He sat down on the couch, but stopped. He glanced behind him. Someone was here. Someone else. The force didn't tell him he was in danger. No, it was a familiar presence. He reached out behind him, and faced him.

Vilaz Munin sat in the corner of the room, shrouded by darkness. And guessing by the water on his armor, he was only here recently, just a few minutes ahead of Thal. By design.

"Are you here to stop me, or help me?"

Thal sounded like someone that Vilaz knew in that instance. Soft spoken, but an underlying sense of a threat, a constant lingering threat of violence from the brute. Thal didn't face him, just leaned forward on the couch, not wanting to face the T-visor stare just yet. He hadn't worn, or even considered, picking up his own armor. He hadn't sworn to The Way, to the Resol'nare. It wasn't right for him, not yet, or maybe not at all. But he was still his father's son, and that's why Vilaz was probably here. But nonetheless, Thal's hands tightened around the lightsaber hilt, ready to engage Vilaz, should he be here to collect a bounty.

 

[Tulan Kor]

DURO
​

In the small room that held the team- the entire team, crammed inside, Tulan took center stage, staring down at Seydou of Thyrsus . The kid had his own way now, pun intended. He blinked, crossing his arms. He went over in his mind what he knew about Duro in his head, from the orbiting cities. But Amon's intelligence on the table pointed to the actual surface of the planet. Made sense- most of the surface was abandoned. Must've made hiding and transportation easier.

Tulan didn't seem too terribly shaking at the idea of going after the Senator. Hitter and Stacks traded words, with Horse repeating them to Tulan. Tulan stopped, blinked, and nodded. Apparently, Hitter knew a Duros that owed them a favor. Hitter took his leave, citing transport acquisition briefly to Tulan. Tulan turned to the Jedi and Thirdas, before turning back to Amon.

He pointed at one of the maps on the table, bringing up a map of a self-contained facility on the surface of the planet. Fairly innocuous from an aerial view, but the amount of buildings bothered Tulan. He slid his hand across the table, bringing up the holographic map that Amon acquired. Tulan didn't ask where Amon got the information, because frankly he didn't particularly care. It was an irrelevant question due to the timetable at hand.

That and Tulan guessed that anyone who knew about this- and what he knew about Amon, was that they were dead, in a box somewhere.

"Appreciate it, Amon. Good to see you."

He started out, before setting his pistol on the table, wanting to free his waistband from it's cold steel. "We both know that this guy will walk in an Alliance court. All we've got here is circumstantial at best. I assume he's covered his tracks. So we have to-" Tulan shook his head. He'd bear that burden alone. "All of this, doesn't mention security. Who's he got with him?" Tulan said, not-so-subtly asking if he was going to have to go through Alliance soldiers to get to this guy. Not that it seemed to bother him. Tulan's rage was white-hot, and focused. His vendetta was personal.

But on the other hand, this man knew something about Thal- or Thal was going to meet him somewhere. Either way, they needed to get to the Senator first. Before the Senator got to Thal, or Thal got to him. He turned to Thirdas and Nida, as Hitter popped his head back in, closing the communicator, giving him a thumbs up.

"Who's our best pilot here?"

Tulan motioned Beltran forward, whispering to him a very specific set of instructions, only audible to him. He clapped him on the back of the neck, as a sign of ultimate trust, before waiting for the response from the group.

Loaded question, but, an important one.

Tulan kept looking between Nida and Okkeus, as if his plan involved them to a degree.

Beltran Rarr l Okkeus Dainlei l Nida Perl l Thirdas Heavenshield​

 

[Vilaz Munin]

Even from parsecs away from the boy, Vilaz was always vigilant on the last Mantis. Thal did not swear to the Resol’nare, thus being absent from the title “Mandalorian”, but Vilaz did not let that loose sight on him. He offered him a place in his Clan, to teach and show him a new life that was more bountiful than the life he was living. Thal was still living in the past, living in pain from the cruelty of others that crossed him. It would be his undoing.

But he wouldn’t let him fall in that pit.

He was the son of a great warrior he had the pleasure of knowing and fighting alongside, and out of respect for him, he’d save his son.

“It would be dishonorable for me to not help you,” he said firmly, stepping forward towards the man. “If I wanted your bounty, you’d have no chance. I’m not your typical, ambitious bounty hunter from the filth of Nar Shaddaa.” Fact, not a threat.

“You need help, not just with this situation you’ve gotten yourself in but other things too. Our kind looks out for each other and helps as well. Even if you are not a bloodied Mandalorian, I won’t stop from helping you.”

“You seek vengeance and I will help you achieve it. The Jedi are merciful onto all, even to the most vilest filth in the Galaxy. I’m sure the Jedi has taught you to bottle up your emotions and live without what makes us living beings, hmm? Once they find you, they’ll rehabilitate you and treat you nothing but a wild animal. Much like how they see to our kind.”

That was enough monologuing.

“What’s your next move?”

Thal Mantis ​

 

[Nida Perl]

When Thirdas had draped his arms over her shoulders and rested his head atop her own, Nida leaned into his touch. Despite what she’d witnessed in the cantina, the Padawan instinctively took comfort in him, leaning into his touch and breathing in his scent. Absently, her hand found his own and squeezed it.

Nida had remained quiet during the journey to Duro, using the lull to process what had happened. Though she abhorred violence, she was no stranger to it. What had happened in the cantina had shaken her, but she’d borne witness to, and had been on the receiving end of brutal circumstances. What frightened her the most was the heavy feeling in her chest and stomach, weighing her down with the anticipation of more cruelty. Her gut told her that soon, she’d have to do more than stand around awkwardly.

She spent the remainder of their flight curled up against Thirdas, trying and failing to sleep.

Now crammed into a small room with the rest of the team, Nida listened but spoke little. She tried her best to avoid Seydou of Thyrsus , having met eyes with the Mandalorian’s intense gaze only briefly before turning away. Whether it was in her head or not, she imagined he’d assessed her in an instant with that cold-as-beskar stare. Weak. Useless. Liability.

Tulan she was only slightly more comfortable with, being a familiar face. When he’d asked for the best pilot, she simply shook her head. Flying lessons had passed her by.

She wished he’d stop looking at her.

Thirdas Heavenshield | Tulan Kor | Beltran Rarr | Okkeus Dainlei

 

[Thirdas Heavenshield]

They were all huddled together around the table, partaking in the planning of the next step of the operation. During the flight over to Duro he'd had plenty of time to go over the events of that interrogation room. How he shot and maimed an unarmed, helpless person he had no knowledge of save for what little he'd been able to piece together from what Hitter or one of the others mentioned.

He felt ashamed, and felt it would leave a permanent stain on his record, but it would not keep him from continuing on with the mission. He knew what he'd signed up for, he thought.

Always keeping close to Nida, Thirdas sat on top of a crate casually sharpening a non-descript combat knife against his own cybernetic arm. He always seemed to find new improvised uses for his prosthesis while out on mission.

Seydou of Thyrsus had joined their group, surprisingly. A pleasant surprise at that for the young Ranger, to get to see his old LT again. Last he heard Amon had simply left, gone off to reclaim his Mandalorian heritage or somesuch. Judging by the man's distinct armour, it seems he's done just that.

"Hey, Bolt," he addressed Okkeus Dainlei using his chosen code name just in case. "I heard you're a pretty good pilot." Gods know Thirdas had only ever set foot on a shuttle by the time he met Nida a few years back on Midvinter. The thought of piloting one himself had never even crossed his mind, let alone take flying lessons.

He hoped to catch up some with Amon later. One rarely forgets their first-ever CO and the impact they made on your life.

Nida Perl | Tulan Kor | Beltran Rarr | Vilaz Munin ​

 

[Thal Mantis]

Thal had no doubt, after Vilaz spoke- that if he wanted him dead or captured, both would be the outcome. Thal was good at a lot of things, even getting better- but going against Vilaz at the moment would spell death, or capture for him. But Vilaz's explanation put him at ease, and Thal relaxed. Thal felt the pity, the animosity towards his actions resonating from Vilaz. He was getting better at a lot, but being so young and inexperienced- he had a long way to go. Vilaz was leagues ahead of him.

Vilaz was somewhat correct, but not exactly on the money. Thal stood, removing the coat, sighing.

"Not bottle up. Let go. Don't act on them. But they're all.." He stopped, thinking of the word while dumping his pockets. Credit chits, data sticks, knives. A garrote wire. He turned his back to Vilaz, while he took a databank from the caf table, sitting on the couch while going over the data sticks he collected. As the blue screen popped up and the images rolled over Thal's eyes, he half-turned his head to Vilaz.

"They lack the perspective that I have." For a man who could barely speak Basic not even a year ago, Thal's gift with languages seemed natural. His accent was heavy- but it was fading with time.

The images and data rolled across his eyes.

"Alliance Senators are involved in this. One's coming tomorrow, here. He's been buying girls- of all ages. Shipping them from here, and Duro, and then all over lawless space." Thal rolled his knuckles, going over what appeared to be flightlogs, data, and manifests. Things that would seem boring and innocuous to most. But Thal had developed an eye for irregularities in numbers and in codes. The Slave Network he was after used a particular set of phrases and codewords in manifests. Thal opened a leather-bound journal with the cipher in it, quietly going over the data he'd collected.

"I'm ambushing him and his party here. It'll be public. To everyone, it'll seem like a political assassination. Before that, there was a team dispatched here to protect him." Thal stopped, realizing that Vilaz might've not caught on to that exactly. Of course a Politician would have protection, especially on the Alliance capital. That much was obvious.

Thal leaned back on the couch, folding his arms.

"Protect him from me. Hutt Cartel goons. Top level guns for hire. This-"

He pointed at the screen.

"Is their flight log. They came in on cargo containers, hiding from customs and enforcement."

Vilaz Munin ​

 

[Lancer Damar]

CORUSCANT

Lancer Damar was a man of variables.​

He lived his life by planning, and planning diligently. The last time he was not part of the plan, he ended up suffering the wrath of a Sith spell and falling into the ocean. The cybernetics he had were a literal physical reminder to always have a contingency.

Lyran IV had been a disaster. The clean-up operation didn't even go well. The Smugglers Union caught their freelancers and summarily executed them for trespassing and their relation, rendering anything that they might've found- if anything, at all, useful. But what they could gather from their sources and spies was that:

Thal was operating autonomously, and there was a second, a more military-orientated team. Only a few low-quality images from live video feeds of the cameras at the markets. Lancer tried to scour the image for anything useful, but only found out that they were near-humans, or humans at best. That left a sea of possibilities of possible organizations, ranging from the Smugglers Union to the Sith Empire.

The latter of which seemed far fetched, given they were in the slavery business themselves.

The Senator from Duro was set to arrive, on an unmarked ship, in less than 24 hours. To that end, Lancer had elected to solicit roughly a platoon's worth of hired guns. And not just any run-of-the-mill Coruscant thugs. No- actual mercenaries who didn't ask questions, came prepared, and didn't complain about living conditions. Former military, from one place or another, or bounty hunters. The kind that would deter- or at best, stop, Thal, should he continue his rampage. And Lancer was operating on the contingency that he knew after Lyran IV, where they were going. The two entities, Thal and the Team, had to be connected, and thus, more than likely shared information to a degree.

The platoon arrived one by one, coming in off the rain-soaked street, some discreetly apologizing for bringing in mud. As they gathered, Lancer handed each of them a datastick, telling them precisely where and when to be at the landing pad. Some would be positioned almost a block or two away, as lookouts, and most would be at the landing pad to deter a direct attack on the Senator. The Senator was a powerful tool, deterring legislation and attention away from his particular area on Duro. The planet-side operating base was crucial to the operation as a whole, and losing him or it would mean disaster for the entire Network.

And thus, a stain on Lancer's record, and no one to pay him.

For now, Lancer silently prepared, awaiting the arrival of the Senator.

 

[Okkeus Dainlei]

He sat silently for most of the briefing. At least from Tulan's expression he knew the man was on the fence about having him here. Probably Nida too. All becuase they were 'too young.'Too young his ass. When you have been possessed by a ancient spirit, lost a limb, been through multiple battles, kept steady to the light side of the force all while being the ripe young age of sixteen, you shouldn't be considers 'too young' anymore.

Turning his attention back to Tulan he heard the man asking about pilots. Finally, he could show his usefulness in this mission. But before he could answer, Thirdas practically answered for him.

"Well you heard right Shieldwall, I'm probably one of the best pilots here."

And that wasn't him boasting. Flying and racing ships was in his blood. Put him in a ship and you are set for whatever mission you are on. He hoped that they didn't take it as a joke. Silently he waited for a laugh or snort to break the silence. Hopefully it didn't come.

Tulan Kor | Thirdas Heavenshield | Beltran Rarr | Nida Perl | Vilaz Munin

 

[Seydou of Thyrsus]

DURO
​

The Mandalorian gave each of the black ops team a long, analyzing glare without shifting his head one bit - benefits of the buy'ce. Tulan looked angrier than usual, Thirdas larger than usual; all in all, two events Amon did not consider as possible. The other three, a Zeltros girl, Human boy and a Human adult completed the squad. The former looked far from what one would expect as squadmates in a black ops operation, the latest fitting like a glove.

This was personal, Vizsla concluded. Didn't matter.

After the teenager flaunted his piloting skills, Amon took the stage and expanded the already lit up holoprojections of the facility.

"Duro's surface is deadly, yet it houses essential production for the planet - food processing plants and mining facilities. This one's from the former." he gestured at the projection. "Unauthorized flights to the surface immediately ping the whole system. Your target will know you're coming down the moment your ship takes a forbidden heading down." purely factual and monotonous voice as always. The son had hardly escaped his father's characteristics as much as he had wished. Amon's head turned to Tulan, clearly the commanding officer in this off-the-books shindig. "If he's aware someone's on his trail, he will be seeking flight the moment the system gets pinged. Punching through counter measures is barely a third of the mission, Sarg- Tulan." a Freudian slip? Amon paused for a moment before adding. "He will need to be trapped."

Tulan Kor Beltran Rarr Thirdas Heavenshield Nida Perl Okkeus Dainlei​

 

[Tulan Kor]

Tulan looked over at Amon, wondering why everyone was using their codenames when it was just them. Hitter, Stacks, and Horse all did the same, before shrugging it off. Tulan addressed Okkeus Dainlei first. Tulan pointed to the shipping and receiving area of the facility.

"We won't be coming in hot. She's our ticket in." He pointed at Nida Perl . "There's a substantial bounty for returning escaped slaves. The pilot bit comes afterwards. We'll take a transport from one of the floating cities. We'll be posing as Bounty Hunters."

Tulan said it so matter-of-factly. So simply. But he knew what it meant to Nida to pose as that. To return to that. But all he did, was give her a look. Of sympathy, of apologies, but silently telling her that it had to be done.

"Once we land, since we have the layout, Hitter and Stacks will be breaking off to 'unload cargo'. They'll move to intercept the communication relay before we can do anything. No good squeezing the Senator when we get shot out of the sky or captured in an Alliance prison." Tulan sighed, crossing his arms, thinking.

"Having a Mandalorian and a couple of soldiers will sell us as Bounty Hunters. Kid-" He pointed at the younger Jedi. "Once we get control of the comms in the facility, we'll secure a code. Horse will have the ship we have now in low-orbit. You'll have to do an airlock-to-airlock extraction. We'll crash the transport once we're done with it."

Tulan blinked, leaning forward.

"Our window will be limited. Once we make contact, they'll want to take her as quickly as possible. We'll use his eagerness and timetable to exploit the inevitable gap in his security. We'll have to hide our weapons on the ship- only concealable weapons. Don't use your lightsabers. No telling if they have cameras here- Hitter and Stacks will try to get ahold of any of that, but no guarantees. Rifles, pistols, knives. Not your giant blue, or whatever color it is, laser sword waving around. That'll just cause problems."

Tulan leaned forward, resting his knuckles on the table.

"We have roughly two hours before this goes down. Take a shower, get a fresh change of clothes. Steel yourself. We only have schematics of the building. I don't know what else is down there. Get ready."

With that, Tulan looked over at Amon, while everyone mingled about or stared off into space. He lowered his voice.

"Thanks for comin', mate. Sorry to intterupt your daddy issues."

Tulan was probably one of the few people in the galaxy, maybe the last, that could make that joke with Amon and not get a crushgaunt to the face. But Tulan genuinely loved the kid, and was happy to see him accepting his heritage, finding his way.

Ha-ha. The way.

"They're doing better than they look like, trust me."

Seydou of Thyrsus l Nida Perl l Thirdas Heavenshield l Okkeus Dainlei l Beltran Rarr​

 

[Nida Perl]

The moment Tulan Kor pointed at her, Nida felt herself freeze. The Padawan wasn’t very animated to begin with but she swore that her heart stopped, her breathing and muscles along with it. Even the butterflies of anxiety in her stomach seemed to pause. All of her energy went to her head, Nida’s mind kicking into overdrive as the words dropped from Tulan’s mouth like he was describing something as casual as the weather.

I’m their ticket in.

The realization of why she’d been asked on this mission hit her like a hyperspace ram. The Zeltron was not a warrior, nor was she a specialist in stealth or recovery. Her skill was in healing, but here she was to be used as bait. Everything unfroze in an instant, and she lurched forward as a wave of nausea slammed against her stomach. She reached out for Thirdas, grabbing onto him and keeping her head down until the sick feeling abated, if only for a little bit. Her fingernails dug into Thirdas with such force that you’d think they were experiencing turbulence on a bumpy flight.

She lifted her head to look at Tulan, suddenly disgusted by the sympathetic look he was giving her. Unbeknownst to Nida, she was giving him a withering stare of wide-eyed fear and repulsion. She’d been occasionally plagued by nightmares of being forced back into her former life, with fear being a recurring, familiar theme. The anger she felt now was not new but it had never been this strong.

At least, she thought, her one solace was that she’d play the part convincingly enough.

Straightening, her voice came out softly and controlled, devoid of the feelings churning inside her like a storm because she did not know how to express them in the moment. “I understand.”

She let go of Thirdas, hands folding neatly in front of her. “Shall I change clothes?”

Thirdas Heavenshield | Beltran Rarr | Okkeus Dainlei | Seydou of Thyrsus

 

[Thirdas Heavenshield]

When the next stage of their plan was revealed to them group, Thirdas' eyes went wide as he looked around for the others' reactions. Then he felt Nida's hand tighten around his, and his eyes fell on her at his side. Of course she reacted they way she did, having been a child slave before the Jedi found her. That shit sticks with you for the rest of your life.

But Nida proved to be stronger than even him when she then unexpectedly accepted to be the bait. And then, everyone just went with the idea and began to scatter as if the meeting was already adjourned.

"Wait, no-" Thirdas leapt to his feet and marched over to Tulan and Amon, looking none too pleased.

"Tulan, we can't make her do this," he protested through his teeth. "She grew up a slave and it left her scarred for life, we can't make her go through it again even if it's just for show. There has to be another way!"

His eyes fixed themselves onto those of his brother-in-arms, pleading with him. "Take me, use my name. Tell them you captured the son of Thurion Heavenshield, lock me up in chains, anything! I'll hide a knife in my boot or something and fight my way out when the time comes." He was just throwing out hastily put together plans at this point and he knew it.

He knew they wouldn't go with him instead of Nida. He got angry, enraged. He paced around for a bit before throwing a punch at the wall, causing said wall to bend and twist with a loud groan to the shape of his metal fist. After which his anger dissipated and he was left leaning his forehead against the wall.

How could he ever live with himself if something went wrong?

Tulan Kor | Seydou of Thyrsus | Nida Perl | Okkeus Dainlei | Beltran Rarr | Vilaz Munin ​

 

[Tulan Kor]

Tulan walked over, crossing the room in a frighteningly short amount of time. There was time for a soft hand. There was time for orders, and then- there was time to grab your soldier by the collar, to remind him of what he was there for.

"You think I like this, hm?" He shook Thirdas. "You think that I want to send her in there?" Another shake of the big man. "She got out. Look at her. Look at Nida. Look where she is now. Look who's she's with. She got her life back." With an equally frightening shove, Tulan seemed to be able to move Thirdas, metal bits and all.

(Not far, I mean, have you seen Thirdas?)

"There are dozens of people down there, and more out there, that this scumbag has sold away. We get one shot at taking him down, and there's a slim chance that the PEOPLE-" Tulan prodded the chest of Thirdas. "Can get freed." Tulan relaxed his posture, shaking his head.

"There's a kid out there, a Jedi, waging his personal war on these people. And he we have to save him. He's one of ours. We do what is awful and terrible so someone else never has to know what it's like to suffer, Thirdas. We win by bending the rules. There isn't an Order, a government, anything else down here. Not this far where we are. I need you to get ready, son. I know we can all do it."

He looked around the room.

"All of you can do it. I know that for a fact."

Thirdas Heavenshield l Nida Perl l Okkeus Dainlei l Seydou of Thyrsus l Beltran Rarr​

 

[Seydou of Thyrsus]

Tulan's stupid joke went ignored, especially when he unraveled their plan and the spotlight fell on the Zeltron girl. The T-visor's gaze shifted over her, its abyss as if glimpsing the darkest depths of her soul. In reality? Amon wasn't the best reader of people, especially aruetii. She seemed content with the idea but a slight shift of her body language told him otherwise. The Mandalorian was not sure how much he'd been sold on the plan but remained silent. His actions always spoke more than his words.

Then Thirdas exploded. The goliath protested Tulan's decision. Grief, anger, fury. If only he could channel them on the mission ahead. Amon said nothing. He assumed there was some form of bond between the Zeltron and the Heavenshield. Mandalorians, contrary to popular belief, understood the power of relationships. Probably far more than any other culture in the galaxy. He would've died, if he had the choice, to protect his sister on that cursed day of the Red Coronation.

If the Zeltros girl, Nida, he grasped her name from Tulan, weighted her options and felt ready to take this role then Thirdas had to respect that. Bravery was the least he expected from the pink-skinned girl at a first glance. He was proven otherwise.

The short, but tough sergeant was having none of it. Expected. The mission came first. The Mandalorian would've probably dealt with the situation differently, but aruetii had their own ways. Fair enough. It mattered little. Whatever this mission was it was definitely personal from what Amon understood from Tulan.

It mattered little.

Amon was only here doing a favor...or perhaps an abstract sense of duty to a cause he had left behind. Who knows.

It mattered little.

Amon unclipped the darksaber hilt and slid it into a hidden compartment of the armor, all he had was his sonic blaster, vambraces and shockgaunts - plenty of firepower for a Mandalorian. Then, he reached for the knife holster and produced a well-forged kal, a beskar dagger; on its hilt - the daunting symbol of clan Vizsla carved so many years ago.

He offered it, more like shoved it, to Nida, then with a neutral voice, "Bring it back to me when we're done."

Thirdas Heavenshield Tulan Kor Okkeus Dainlei Beltran Rarr Nida Perl​

 

[Beltran Rarr]

Beltran Rarr

Location: Tiny Room, Duro
Objective: Win
Allies: Tulan Kor , Seydou of Thyrsus , Thirdas Heavenshield , Nida Perl , Okkeus Dainlei , Paxton Reece ( writing as an NPC)
Enemies: Anyone involved in the slave trade, anyone trying to kill Thal Mantis
Loadout:

• Armor: Armorweave undervest
• Clothing: Leather Jacket, non-descript fatigue pants and black t-shirt
• Primary Weapons: Death-Dealer Handcannon (drop holster, right hip - loaded with Sith-Killer Ammunition)
• Secondary Weapons: Beskar Sword (back scabbard), Wrist Mounted Blaster (right wrist), Tactical Vibroblade (right boot)

Beltran and Reece had posted themselves up against the walls closest to the door of the tinry room, allowing the others to crowd in around the table as Tulan Kor began to speak. He casually glanced at the newcomer, Seydou of Thyrsus , but paid the man little mind after that. From Sergeant Kor and Lieutenant Heavenshield's body language, this man was known and trusted by both which was good enough for Beltran.

From what they'd learned from the interrogated, now dead, slaver, apparently whatever conspiracy that had enveloped their would-be rescuee had ties to a high level member of the Galactic Alliance government. That didn't surprise him, politicians were notoriously slimy creatures regardless of whose government they worked for.

Power often led to corruption.

Neither Beltran or Reece reacted much as Tulan spoke, essentially explaining that the Senator in question needed to be eliminated. For the two of them, this wasn't exactly new. Prior to his promotion to Lieutenant, Beltran had undertaken several off-the-books missions on behalf of the Rangers' brass. Missions that had involved the removal of problem parties from the equation, often before they even landed on the Silver Jedi's radar.

Commander Calderon, his CO and friend, had recognized long ago that the Jedi penchant for hand wringing and indecision was costing the people of the Silver Sphere dearly. That had been, in part, why he had recruited Beltran in the first place. Because Beltran wasn't a man who was afraid to get his hands dirty.

When Tulan motioned for him to approach, Beltran slid passed Thirdas Heavenshield and Nida Perl . He listened without comment as the Sergeant whispered a series of instructions in his ear and when the man was finished, Beltran simply nodded.

"Got it."

He would then return to his spot on the wall, raising his hand subtly at Reece to forestall any of the questions he could see brewing on the man's face. There would be time enough to talk about their part of the mission once this briefing was over and if Sergeant Kor had wanted their part advertised to the rest of the team, he would have spoken of it to them.

From there, it was pretty much a waiting game as Kor outlined his plan. As soon as a pilot was asked for, Beltran knew that Okkeus Dainlei would fit the bill perfectly. After that, the need to use Nida Perl as bait came up and with it, predictably, came problems. Thirdas Heavenshield , exactly the white knight that Beltran had pegged him for, immediately began to argue.

Perl, for her part, seemed to accept her role as the necessary and even crucial part it was. She was obviously afraid, but the set in her jaw told Beltran all he needed to know of her quality. She would do her job, if the boy-wonder would get out of the way and let her.

Beltran stepped gracefully into the space that had been created when Sergeant Kor had shoved Thirdas and spoke quietly. Despite the softness of his tone, his voice carried quite easily. "You," He said to Thirdas. "Need to calm down. You knew this wasn't going to be a pleasure cruise going in, and so did Ms. Perl. You don't volunteer for this kind of mission and expect that things aren't going to get dicey. She's on board, and you need to get your head on straight or you'll just end up putting her in more danger."

He turned and looked to the Sergeant, not bothering to say what he was thinking and trusted the older NCO to get it from his expression. And you need to get your head on straight too, and not let He-Man over there get you so hot and bothered.

As Kor began to expound on his reasoning, Beltran stayed where he was-eyeing both men to see if one of them was going to make a move on the other. Beltran wasn't nearly as large as Thirdas or as experienced as the Gunny but he was a dangerous man and more than happy to prove that to the next person who went after someone.

 

[Vilaz Munin]

“The Jedi lack vision in all, Thal. They aren’t realists unlike us, all they care about is being on a plane more noble than all others,” he said to the young warrior, listening to his words and complementing them with his own. He then listened carefully to his plan and the history behind all of this. He was not surprised to hear an Alliance Senator involved in the slave trade as he had seen before the corruption and greed that was bred in these kinds of societies.

Did he care about if this Senator did notorious things? Not really, he wasn’t here to police anyone. His clan was his main priority, making sure it thrives and prosper. He was only interested in this mission, so Thal wouldn’t die.

“I am sure he’ll have more protection than just that, Thal. Alliance guards and the Jedi. The Jedi preach of not involving themselves with politics, yet they represent themselves in the Senate and have a merry time with the politicians,” the thought of killing Jedi and collecting their lightsabers brought a quick smirk to his lips.

“It will be heavily secured, but that doesn’t stop a Mandalorian.”

He paused.

“I have a gift for you, you won’t last two minutes in those haves and whatever mediocre armor you have available. Come.”

Thal Mantis | Nida Perl | Thirdas Heavenshield | Seydou of Thyrsus | Tulan Kor | Okkeus Dainlei | Beltran Rarr ​

 

[Nida Perl]

In an instant, Thirdas’ protective instincts flared to life and he confronted Tulan. His Valkyri temper had never been directed at her personally, but she’d seen it at work when she was threatened or insulted. And Tulan’s assignment had posed a very big threat to her. Nida’s ears burned with embarrassment when Thirdas revealed to their unit that she’d struggled with her past of slavery, but the shame quickly passed as her focus was on the two men confronting the enraged Lieutenant.

To her, some of their words were harsher than necessary—but Nida was not accustomed to military dealings. She placed a hand at Thirdas’ back, feeling the anger burn within him at the thought of dangling her as bait over the abyssal maw that was the galactic slave trade. He’d already beaten himself up for not being there when she lost her eye on Yurb, and now she could only imagine the fury he felt at not being able to protect her.

Nobody in the room wanted this, least of all her.

When Tulan Kor and Beltran Rarr had finished their reprimanding, Nida leaned in close so that only she and Thirdas can hear. “I don’t want to do this.” She murmured. “But I have to. This is the best shot that we have.” Tulan didn’t do things carelessly, this much she knew. “Please, trust in me.” Her last words to him were spoken with such conviction that Nida nearly moved herself, her eyes glassing over.

The silent man, the Mandalorian who’d intimidated her simply by turning his visor her way, wordlessly offered her a blade. Initially confused, Nida took the dagger gingerly and felt the weight of the Mandalorian steel in her small hand. It was a strange design, unlike any other knife she had seen, but well forged. In her hands, it seemed like a relic, something to be handled academically rather than used as a combat weapon. Her fingers traced over each point of the symbol engraved onto the hilt before stowing it away in her boot with a nod of thanks to Amon. His simple words were of comfort, if only for the implication that they would be meeting again, alive, when this operation was complete. “I will.”

Nida spent the remainder of their travels as close as she could to Thirdas, slipping in and out of a haze of meditation in preparation for the task ahead. She focused on Thal, on the anger that had spiraled around him like an electric vapor on their first meeting, and on how much anguish he must be in.

Thirdas Heavenshield | Seydou of Thyrsus | Okkeus Dainlei | Vilaz Munin

 

[Okkeus Dainlei]

It felt like an explosion went off in the room. About Thirdas got protective of Nida, many of the men jumped in to calm him down...and talk him back into his senses. We all knew what we signed up for. We knew that this mission wasn't going to be pretty. After a few minutes of calming people back down he walked up to Thirdas. When he got close the man towered over the young Jedi. Looking up at him he patted the man's shoulder two times.

"Good talk."

Walking past the man he thought over his role. This time he wouldn't be on the ground too much, but in the air. Besides, he felt more in his element this way. He had done his fare share of smuggling jobs before. Quick pickups, quick dropouts, tight deadlines, none of it was new.

He contiued over to the shelves where fresh clothes layed. Grabbing a new shirt, jacket, and pant she put them on. No need to shower, it somewhat helped sell the bounty hunter vibe. No new weapons were needed for this run. The pistol will serve him well, along with his new butterfly knife. Gun at his side and knife in his pocket he went over to Tulan. He needed to know more about this ship.

"Hey, do you happen to have the schematics of the ship I'm flying? I need to know everything: gun location, access points, speed, maneuverability, weight limit, viewport size. Anything that can help me out."

Tulan Kor | Thirdas Heavenshield | Nida Perl | Beltran Rarr | Seydou of Thyrsus | Vilaz Munin | Thal Mantis

 

[Thirdas Heavenshield]

As he should have guessed, Tulan was the first to reprimand him for his outburst. It was unprofessional behaviour to give in to emotions so easily duing any Op. A Black Op especially. Thirdas knew better, however when it came to Nida and this particular subject matter, he'd given his word to defend her freedom. He also liked to think he'd helped her overcome some of her insecurities related to her life as a slave, and he worried this experience would throw their work out the window.

One after another the others within the group tried to break up the argument, while also trying not to piss off the giant with super-human strength any further. The only one who didn't show any restraint was, of course, Tulan. The man had built him up since the day he arrived on Kashyyyk and joined the Ranger program, and was likely the only man in the room who could berate Thirdas without running the risk of losing a limb in the attempt.

But then Nida herself came forth, whispering her words of reason which seemed to do far more to calm the Valkyri than any other could. His every muscle seemed to relax as he turned the Zeltron girl with a look of defeat. "I know," he whispered back, "I trust in you." He raised a hand to her chin, offering a soft caress of his thumb.

He looked around the room to all the others in the room, then settled his gaze on Tulan. He bowed his head. "Forgive me, brothers. I shame myself."

Once Nida would wander off to prepare, Thirdas would follow and watch over her as she meditated. Having lived together in his tiny apartment for a couple years now, he always found it fascinating just to watch her slip into that spiritual state of existence. To his people, such a spiritual state was often reserved for when they wade into the enemy, spilling their blood for the glory of the Gods. It was a side of the Valkyri many did not speak of; their ever-present lust for battle. Even his father, serene as he was, shared the same tendencies buried deep beneath those lifelong Jedi teachings of his.

Thirdas would wait until Nida finished meditating, and only then surprise her by stealing a kiss from her pink lips when the others weren't looking.

Nida Perl | Tulan Kor | Seydou of Thyrsus | Okkeus Dainlei | Beltran Rarr | Vilaz Munin ​

 

[Tulan Kor]

Horse took Okkeus Dainlei , going on, and on, and on, about their new ship. And then how to cheat at cards. And then how to woo Twi'lek girls. And then back to the ship. He managed to give Okkeus the details he needed, but also divulging into past ops with the Rangers, the best kind of knife to use to slice someone's throat, the difficulties of slicing a Trandoshan's throat, his ex-wife, his other ex-wife, and how he wasn't a really big fan of Jedi (but the kid was cool for now).

Tulan was mostly quiet and reserved during his prep time, removing the stock from his rifle and placing the rifles in the space above the ship's ramp, easily accessible (even for a short guy like Tulan). Part of him wanted to speak to Thirdas, but the more stern part of him knew that it wasn't the right time. Each person there had their own problems, their own issues to go through, work through, and overcome.

The time came, and each member of the team collected themselves, and seated on the transport. Thirdas used a pair of magnetic cuffs, hot-wiring them to make them appear locked. Normally, the cuffs would have a green light to indicate they were locked. A little bit of a screwdriver, a little soldering, and the cuffs could be taken off by simply shaking her wrists.

Not that the bad guys knew that.

Hitter and Stacks would be holding her, while Tulan would speak, Thirdas in the back behind Nidas. In reality, he wanted the biggest guy in the back to make his team look scary. Not that the Mandalorian with them didn't help, either. But Mandalorians around here were like seeing dark at night, not so much of a fear factor for the bad guys. More goons than goblins.

The ship touched down, Horse giving a five second count down. As Tulan predicted, the landing pad they were directed to land at was surrounded by soldiers. None of them appeared to be uniformed in the usual Alliance outfit, but he couldn't count on them not being at least honest soldiers. That was the only reason the entire operation wasn't an assault. Tulan didn't want to live with the guilt of that, even in his relentless mission. Hitter and Stacks pulled Nida forward, Stacks quietly tucking the weird-looking knife into the back of Nida's waistband, pulling her shirt over it.

The Duros Senator, the senator of Duro, came sauntering out, posture politically erect and hands clasped behind his back. He had rough-looking goons closer to him, different than the other men at the port. Tulan narrowed his eyes, but tried not to make too much of a scene. Tulan recognized the type, and more importantly, the Disruptor rifles they carried. Tulan shifted his leg, the handle of his own Disruptor pistol primed in the back of his waistband. Tulan approached the Senator, executing a polite nod.

They spoke in Bocce.

Tulan complimented his shirt, noting that it was very fashionable. The Duros smiled, returning the compliment to Tulan's hat and beard. They talked for a while about where they saw each of the items, Tulan smiling and laughing (and resisting the urge to gouge his eyes out). The Senator finally turned his head to Nida.

He pointed at her, and Tulan nudged his head. Hitter and Stacks pulled her forward, the Senator shifting in his standing. Tulan remarked they found her trying to escape, while the Senator silently stared along, and Tulan waited for a response, the silence in the air for nearly a minute, before the Senator motioned for them to follow. Tulan relaxed his posture as soon as he turned around, breathing a sigh of relief.

The Senator walked along, leading the group through the facility. Tulan had to steel himself, passing by door after door. Cell doors. Dozens of them. The Senator remarked that the facility was large, but was recently emptied. He used the term 'party' to describe what happened to most of the slaves. Coruscant was the destination. Tulan gave a motion to keep the group calm behind him, as they were lead through the facility. Passing by a glass door- Tulan saw girls, chained to the wall, sitting idly. They tensed up when the Senator walked by.

Again, Tulan motioned for his team to calm. Hitter and Stacks relaxed on Nida, Hitter giving her a reassuring squeeze of her shoulder. The Rangers were cold-blooded killers... to everyone else. Here, they were compassionate and men of conviction. The Senator remarked how he hadn't enjoyed a slave for a long time, finding them particularly a nuisance, and that he'd look forward to making an example of Nida.

Tulan spoke in basic after they exchanged words.

"I understand there's a reward involved."

He said bluntly, playing the part of a gruff, hard-boiled Bounty Hunter. The Senator nodded, as they came into what appeared to be an office of sorts.

"Yes, yes. Substantial. Have to keep my word, hm?" He said with a throaty chuckle. As soon as the door closed, Tulan looked at the room. The Senator had dropped off security as they went along. Five guards in the room. Non-human. Not Alliance marked. Disruptor rifles. Definitely not Alliance. Tattoo on one of their necks. Imperial of some kind.

Targets. Free game.

Tulan clasped his hands behind his back, and then swept his hand, side to side. Left to right. The Ranger signal for free engagement on all targets. Tulan, with a flourish of his left hand, reached under the Senator's arm, pulling him down by the back of his stylish shirt, and withdrew his Disruptor pistol with his right. He threw the Senator behind him to be detained, while he engaged the Imperial-tattooed goon in the corner of the room.

The Disruptor pistol made not a lot of noise, but a distinct noise. But more importantly- it had the distinct effect of vaporizing the target. The other Rangers, Mandalorians, and Jedi in the room would have the same effect. Tulan threw the Senator behind him, towards Thirdas and Nida.

They'd handle him, and hopefully, not kill him. For now, they needed him alive.

All the other bastards in the room?

Kill 'em all.

Okkeus Dainlei l Thirdas Heavenshield l Nida Perl l Nida Perl l Beltran Rarr l Seydou of Thyrsus​