Dominion Justice Prevails | GA Dominion of Plexis

[Saga of Valour]

“Peace is not merely the absence of War. It’s the presence of Justice.”​

- Paraphrased by a Senatorial Scribe; Attributed to Chancellor Emmen Tagge.​

Plexis was remarkably insignificant. With little in the way of natural resources, the small continental world had little to offer the Galaxy at large. A fact which the local populace proclaimed to be the reason why the surrounding Great Powers in the Galaxy abandoned them to their own devices. However, through their insignificance came the insidious tendrils of corruption, seeking to prey on the destitute and downtrodden. Gangs formed in the shadows and began warring with one another for territory. At first, the encounters resulted in minimal losses of life. But, over time, they grew exponentially.

The Provisional Government sought to clamp down on this rising epidemic before it got out of hand, but their Enforcers merely exacerbated the issue. They weren't trained to cope with violence on this scale and resorted to using brutal peacemaking measures in return. It was a mess and made even more so when the Gangs started fighting back. While they still quarrelled with one another over territory and power, what became most troublesome was that they began to spread their influence to the stars. The Governor, who knew that he had to keep these Crime Families in check - lest their filth spreads to the stars, had failed in his duties.

So, upon bended knee, the Governor came before the Alliance Senate and asked for whatever aid they could spare to combat this rising epidemic. After much deliberation, several Agents of the Judicial Forces were dispatched to assist. The preliminary reports sent back to the Ministry of Justice were promising. Still, there was something darker brewing beneath the surface. With the Local Enforcement Agency proving themselves to be powerless, before the Alliance's intervention, the Gangs - or Crime Families of Plexis - operated relatively unhindered by the Law.

In the absence of the Light of the Law, their insidious ranks flourished in the Shadows.​

The Crime Families had become the definitive body of Law and Order on Plexis. And as of the Judicial Forces' last transmission, they easily outnumbered the Local Enforcers by a factor of three to one. It wouldn't be long until the Gangs decided that they needed to swat the gnats that swarmed their world. With the Provisional Government helpless and the Agents sent to dispatch the rising threat - it now falls to the Galactic Alliance to pick up the pieces and restore order to the benighted world of Plexis.

In response, the Senate has dispatched a Detachment of the Defence Force on a peacemaking mission. Seeking to use a portion of the Military to extract their beleaguered people from the surface and hopefully quash the Criminal Uprising's insurrectionist fires before they spread to surrounding systems. As the Military was called to intervene, the Senate gathered once more to discuss the expansion of their Judicial Forces and the creation of an Alliance Peace-Keeping Certificate. An act that would see the installation of a regulated and legalized presence of the Bounty Hunter's Guild within Alliance territory.

OBJECTIVE ONE
VITA EST IUDICIUM
As the Criminal Underworld was on the rise, the Alliance Senate convened to find a solution to combat this growing threat. There were dozens of suggestions that were brought to the Senate Floor, but each was found wanting. Some Senators wished to see that the Jedi were integrated into the Judicial Forces, seeking to combine their mandates and pressure those Force-wielders into serving the Government. Others sought to empower and militarize the Planetary Enforcement Agencies, giving them the equipment and weapons they’d need to fight back against the corruption. However, both proposals were tabled favouring a motion proposed by the Senators from Odik and Khomm. This motion would see the creation of an Alliance Peace-Keeping Certificate, which would imbue Third Parties with limited Legal Authority within the Federation’s space. Do you stand in opposition to this motion as members of this august body, or do you stand with it?

OBJECTIVE TWO
PUGNANTES NOMINIS UMBRA
House Neuvalis was once a reputable Chapter of the Bounty Hunter's Guild during the First Galactic Empire's reign. However, time had not been kind to this fragment of Underworld Nobility. They were the first to recover their assets after the darkness brought about by the plague, and the first to establish dominance over the Plexian Gangland. But, after their Golden Age expired, their power began to wane. Others rose to fill the vacuum, but none managed to overpower their competition. There were rivers of blood that ran through the streets, which gave the Provisional Government cause for concern. Local Enforcers were deployed to fight this rising tide of corruption - but they weren't enough. Thus, the Local Government beseeched the neighbouring Alliance in the hopes of levelling the playing field against the evils that plagued their world. However, not long after the Judicial Forces made planetfall, they became besieged by a partially united Criminal Underground. Our people are in danger, and their lives are measured in minutes. As a Member of the Alliance - no matter your vocation - we do not leave our people behind. Will you save them?

BRING YOUR OWN OBJECTIVE
UT IN PLATEAS
Although Plexis is a Small World, situated on the Fringes of the Core Worlds, there are plenty of stories to tell. What’s yours?

 

[Zaavik Perl]

BIG SHELL
Shadow
Objective II
Disrupt The Siege
Maynard Treicolt | OPEN

Somehow, maybe luck, or perhaps a product of his training, the young Zeltron had managed to slip out of the hot zone. Spaceports were wide open areas by design, thus there weren't many avenues of obscurity for the layperson. Though, with a little misdirection, quick feet, and the force, sneaking to safety was almost a breeze. Almost. The streak of cauterized flesh along his shoulder stung like a million Zeltronian Boatwasps all at once. It wasn't an unfamiliar sensation, but no matter how many times if happened, it never got easier to deal with.

Doing his best to ignore the searing in his arm, he peeked over the miscellaneous stack of crates he was hidden behind. Azure irises scanned over the small group of Neuvalis assailants that protected the flank. A better place than any to start, he figured. His gaze strayed over to a complex of pipes that jutted from a wall, the spot Knight Treicolt had crept to as they made an escape. Zaavik pulled a small device from his inner jacket, shiting a reflective light that direction for the 'signal.'

His knees straightened from his squat to send him into the air. Acting as the distraction, he landed with a loud metallic clank atop against a stray crate from the stack. "Sup?" The first and closest of the assailants immediately turned his blaster in surprise. With a screech, verdant plasma escaped from between Zaaviks grip just in time to sunder the weapon in half. A swift kick planted his heel into the helmet of the same enemy. With a crunch, the helmet gave beneath the force-assisted strength of the kick, sending the individual to the ground in a daze. With wide flourishes, Zaavik swatted away one bolt of condense tibanna after the other.

Every moment and flourish screamed 'look at me!' A vexing display fitting of a distraction.

 

[Faith Organa]

Objective One: VITA EST IUDICIUM

Wrinkles caressed the Alderaan Queen's brow, her brown eyes had read and re-read the document currently identified as Alliance Peace Keeping Certificate. Bounty hunter permission slip was more like it.

So first it was a way to gather revenue in the form of a fee. Depending on how bad a hunter wanted its intended targets, would they pay the fee, or cross the borders ...like they do now. She could picture it in her head like some old holo.

Certificates! We don't need no stinking certificates!​

She loved the sentence, "lax judicial oversight" it was not quite free reign but this wording most certainly could be used for all kinds of behavior as they point to this certificate their license to perform...however they saw fit.

and oh look she pointed to another sentence, if they misbehave we report them and they get a fine! how nice...why not just slap them and send them on their way.

She had to put it down it...she just was not in the frame of mind to absorb this right now. She was being more cynical then usual.

A great sigh escaped her as she stared out the window. Coruscant with all it's technology was not home. She missed the lush green valley, the blue skies, and the peace she got from looking at the mountains. She was going home after this she would attend sessions from there for a bit. It was time to find a junior senator.

After calming her mind she had to ask how would Alderaan be affected by the APKC.

She would like to know when a hunter was on Alderaan with one of these APKC. She would also want this 'lax judicial oversight' to be not quite so vague.

Once again Faith sat down and began making notes to take with her regarding this proposal.

 

[Maijan Paisea]

OBJECTIVE II // PLEXIS // PATIO SEATING
OPPOSITION: OPEN // Maynard Treicolt // Zaavik Perl // Rynn Vizsla
STRANGE IS BETTER​

---

Weak-minded simpletons fell victim to her illusions all the time. She really needed to start charging more. And watching more horror films. An invisible tally was added to an equally invisible to-do list, and the Firrerro hybrid kicked back in her lounge. Elegant, slender, marbled fingers gently twitched up and down, as if tapping gently against a horizontal harp.

Her perch was withdrawn from the actual scene, the area that was causing the most ruckus. The guild members were troublesome sorts, and handy with blasters, but they weren't convicted on anything beyond money. As soon as they heard The Alliance was coming in, Big boss shouldered Maijan into action, suggesting with a heavy hand that she pull out some of the tricks he'd been financing. A little motivation for the corral of henchmen. He might have been heavy-handed about it, but she'd made his wallet so light that part of her felt the necessity to acquiesce.

Each of the brutes that contested the Alliance were united now in two ways.
One: They wanted control for their own faction.
Two: They were not seeing the soldiers of The Alliance.

There was nothing more motivating than fear.

Each of the muscles from the underground crimelords, all equipped with their own fancy gadges, saw that same thing in anybody appearing as part of the recent deployment. Some demonic, twisted, barely-humanoid mutation that slathered and drooled. Bolts of plasma became spitting acid, vibroswords became claws. Their minds were marionettes to the influence of the golden-skinned Fallanassi.

Maybe she didn't need to watch more horror films.

"Ooh, a Jedi." Maijan murmured, interested. The way jedi curled off her tongue sounded exotic to a fault, and even melodic on her ears. Jovially, she stretched and took a sip from the straw of her umbrella-decorated beverage before leaning forward in her seat. Her golden gaze narrowed at the scene below, taking extra care to manufacture the Zeltron boy as a particularly blood-drenched horror in the eyes of the ones who sought to attack him.

Somewhere, hostages of the Alliance waited valiantly to be rescued.

 

[Maynard Treicolt]

O U T R I D E R
THE GALACTIC ALLIANCE
JEDI KNIGHT GENERAL
PUGNANTES NOMINIS UMBRA
Zaavik Perl | Maijan Paisea

It was time to get his bearings again. Another battle away from the Core on the front of the Third Imperial Civil War had left him returning...jostled, and now with a physical scar to compound unto more mental wounds. It had seemed he'd never left that war without clutching someone he'd loved in his arms as they grasped for life...though when of course the Alliance, their allies, his friends needed him most he was struck down within an inch of his life and was helpless to save his kin at the moment of the death of Waylon Treicolt.

There'd be no making peace with himself for that, for not being there for him when he was so, so close. There was no doubt in his mind that in full strength he would've ripped him from the Cataphract and willed him to safety, whatever it took.

The Alliance seemed to think whatever the hell it was happened on Bastion wasn't enough to grant him an extended leave of absence from any of his duties, Jedi, military or otherwise. Not that he would've taken it anyway. He needed his legs under him. Needed that renewed purpose again. Bastion might've looked bright, but it was a grueling battle wrought with death and deceit in Ravelin. Yet now it'd gone from marching in the shadows of the Palace of Carnifex to dealing with the next slot in the line of the Galaxy's finest scum and villainy.

A particular coalition of filth unlucky enough to find themselves between Treicolt and Loske Treicolt . They'd reap the whirlwind of that.

Zaavik was the first to the scene, the Padawan serving his role of 'lively distraction' particularly well, especially for a Jedi Shadow.

"Karkin' Jedi..." Said one of the gangers in an ever lovely low and guttural tone befit of his station. However that brazen confidence faded when he felt the cold brush of the barrel of DL-44 Outlaw kiss the back of his neck.

"Alright, champ. So here's how its gonna work is you're gonna wheel me right up to whatever soup-for-brains dumb fuck runs this operation or I'll let the Outlaw here take me all the way there myself." Maynard says, a faint gesture to the pistol in his hand as he digs the cold metal more into the back of the Devaronian's neck.

"More Marshals, huh? Not sure what you Alliance glad hands think you can do about any of this, city is ours. Planet is ours." With that, Maynard let off a low sigh before he stepped back only to plant his booted foot into the back of the man's knee, instantly buckling his stance until he fell down unto his knees before him in a bout of grinding teeth and searing pain.

"Fuck! You know what- no! I'll get worse from my boss I tell you shit, kill me if you want Alliance dog but you're not getting anything from me." The Devaronian retorted.

"Ah well, its alright pal...you still got one more option."

"Aaagh, what?!"

"Bite the curb." With that, a crimson blaster bolt coursed through the brain pan of the alien and snuffed him out immediately, leaving the Jedi to kick him down with a nudge before he holstered the blaster, peering down the corridor in the direction of Zaavik's distraction.

"Ah...right." Maynard said to himself before he was there at the adjacent end of the scene from the Zeltron, the cobalt blade of his lightsaber coursing through the abdomen of another soldier of scum before it culminated in a cleared out area.

"Got nothin', we might have to be breaking through the hard way." Treicolt says in full honesty.

 

[Loske Treicolt]

SOMETIME EARLIER
PLEXIS // SPACEPORTS // AUREK TASK FORCE
OBJECTIVE II
FRIENDS: Maynard Treicolt // Zaavik Perl // OPEN
FOES: Maijan Paisea // OPEN​

​

There weren’t supposed to be two waves. The job was supposed to be quick –– whatever ground pounders evaluated to a blue milk run. Flex some muscle, make the little people scatter and drop their weapons.

Turns out they had a lot of weapons. Big ones.

As soon as the Alliance-marked vessels had touched down, they were in the middle of a light fight. Local forces had not pulled out, and not cleared the space for reinforcements. But it was too late to think of anything else or rejig the plan other than going in with even louder presence than initially intended. That’s..usually what they did in larger scale battles and it seemed to work in their favour. On a smaller scale, tighter-knit operation, that was not the case. Local law enforcement had been corralled into an area was a prime set up for an ambush.

Loske realized it too late.

They were flanked on all sides, mixed up between Plexis guard and a coalition of power-hungry criminals. Blasterfire encased them, converging on their presence. Most of the judicial reinforcements crouched to return fire, seeking cover behind random crates or other large objects whereas Loske stood, her blade higher to create shielding and deflective motions. There were a few around her that took their time with their shots, grateful for the defensive line of the lightsaber. They showed their appreciation by checking their scopes and actually killing the offensive, rather than just making them duck.

<We only have short-range comms active.>

They were pinned.

Parrying a sequence of shots off to her right, she was surprised to hear a distinct whipping sound seconds before a grappling line wrapped around her wrist. “Wha ––!” Her thought was cut off, the person on the other end giving a hard yank that drew her arm across her body and down to the ground. Well-timed, a henchman was there with a powerful heel to snap down on her elbow. A sharp bark of pain erupted, and it felt as though the bone shattered into a thousand pieces. It was enough for her to let go of her lightsaber.

Her assailant dropped, their green flesh glinting in the overhead exchange of firepower. She grabbed at him, found his neck, tried to catch him in a chokehold with her good arm. But one of his brain-tails impeded her. One of his arms reached up and there was a familiar sound, like a blaster firing right into her good shoulder. Loske’s entire world illuminated for a moment, blue light flickering down her arm, up her neck and across her chest. Getting tasered was a numbing sensation, and she felt her tongue and hand go slack in response. Which made attempting to respond to the calls coming through her comm very, very difficult. Another round, of amplified intensity, was sent coursing through her. Coupled with the blinding pain of her pathetic arm, consciousness was quick to evade.

​

PLEXIS // UNKNOWN LOCATION // PRESENT ​

“....agining chips?”

“Us? You think the government cares if we get back?”

“They want this planet.”

“Yeah, but, there are other ways.”

It was very dim. At first, the voices were disembodied, and she could only see the other people within the space if they shifted enough to catch the line of light that stretched from beneath the door.

The Jedi woke up to a dismal conversation with a small collection of survivors. They believed they didn’t mean anything to the criminals. It was a pipe dream to think they’d be bargaining chips –– the coalition was not interested in negotiating with The Alliance. They were only interested in brute force and evidence of their prowess and claim over Plexis.

“Worse. We’re not going back. This is a trafficking organization.” Someone mumbled from the back, on all fours and inspecting the welding. “There are symbols in here I recognize. Busted something like this a couple’a rotations back. Used to collect people and ship ‘em out to be hunted. Like for sport.”

Dread filled the small space.

Thrumming shockwaves of agony bounced up and down her bicep, sending reminders to her brain just how painful the broken bones were. She tasted blood, and she touched her lip to see bits of scabbed residue come away on her fingertips. Bruises were forming around her eyes. Deftly, with her good hand, she patted about her hip in search of her saber. A fool’s errand, but habitual. When she realized how disarmed they all were, she leaned back against the wall and clicked her tongue against the roof of her mouth and looked skyward to a small incision, likely the source of the airflow in the controlled space.

“We’ll get out of here.” Loske murmured, flexing her fingers into her palms. The residual effect of numbness seemed to have abated. She could still use the one hand, and with painful grimacing, probably the other one. With some effort, she maneuvered to touch the welding of the door, drawing her fingers along the ridges. It was draconian and would have been so much easier if it was just an energy field or something.

She didn't know metals well, and familiarizing herself with the chemistry of the manufacturing would take time. Maybe time they didn't have –– still, it was worth the effort to try.

 

[Aeson Keel]

PUGNANTES NOMINIS UMBRA
Phantom Squadron: Special Assignment
​

The city was in a constant state of chaos. It had been since he'd been dropped off here five weeks ago. He honestly didn't know why the Boss thought these goons needed his help to destabilize the planet enough for the Alliance to take notice. Then the Judicials flew into town, tried to clean everything up nice and pretty. Well at that point he wasn't about to let five weeks of work go to waste and well...

He downed the rest of his drink rather than think of what he did to some of those men, dooming them to failure. He slammed the glass down, disturbing one of the patrons who had somehow fallen asleep drunk despite the firefight going on just outside the doors.

"Oi," he called out. He was a big, repugnant thing. He had rolls like a hutt but four massive arms. He'd always thought of Basilisks as chunky but this guy was just overweight. His nametag and apron gave him away as a barkeep. The herglic behind the bar stopped cleaning his glass abruptly and inched his way to the employee only exit, leaving just Aeson and the Basilisk.

"Hey now, no need to get rowdy," he said, taking another long pull, slamming it down. The sound made the creature flinch in annoyance and that made Aeson smirk. Technically he had Carte Blanche, a license to kill and on a world like this, a killer like him got plenty of chances. He slammed the glass down again, his other hand fingering the blaster in his holster. Just one more...

One of the goons slammed the doors open, took one look around the bar, and put a blaster bolt int he basilisk's head. Aeson sucked his teeth and stood up, clipping his blaster back in.

"Boss wan's you up fron' Somethin' about sum Jedi." Aeson froze. Jedi? Why were there Jedi here? He sucked his teeth. This complicated things. Aeson shrugged and followed the helmeted man into the fray.

 

[Aerarii Tithe]

LOCATION: Strategic Intelligence Agency safe house
OBJECTIVE: BYOO
ALLIES: Open
POST: I

Oh, how the mighty fall.

Aerarii Tithe, former Sith-Imperial Moff, governor of Sector Group II, Chair of the Foreign Investment Board, and senior executive with the Sith-Imperial Banking Clan, glanced down at the squalid streets below. The crime ravaged streets of Plexis were a far cry from the carefully landscaped and sterile boulevards of Bastion. The tiny, filthy SIA safe house that he’d been unceremonially stashed in could not be further from his governor’s residences on Mygeeto and Orinackra.

With a sigh, he closed the window and dropped onto the nearby dusty lounger. His flight from the heartland of the Sith Empire alongside the Jedi senator Auteme had been relatively uneventful once they’d broken through the blockade over Bastion. Galactic Alliance passcodes had granted them safe passage back through New Imperial Order occupied territory and out in neutral space. Tithe’s plan had been to make straight for his homeworld of Aargau and negotiate political asylum.

The Galactic Alliance’s security apparatus had other ideas, and after intercepting his shuttle, had carted him to the downtrodden world of Plexis for debriefing. He’d always known he’d have to bargain his knowledge and insights of the Sith Empire if he were to stand a chance of receiving a pardon. However, he’d been hoping to let the dust settle a little, while also giving him time to perfect his story.

Alas, rather than lounging around in an Aarguun resort while he put in place the necessary arrangements, he was locked in a rundown apartment, his only visitor a rotating series of SIA special agents who brought him food three times a day without exchanging a single word. Was this part of a long game to break him, or did they truly not know what to make of such a high ranking defector.

Whatever it was, he wished they’d get on with it.

A knock broke the silence of the unadorned apartment at the door.

“Yes, yes, come in,” he called out, somewhat surprised as he checked his chrono. It had only been a few hours since his last meal - who could this possibly be?

 

[Saga of Valour]

// SIA Safehouse //
Plexian Residential District: [REDACTED.]
Habitation Block: [REDACTED.]
Presiding Agent in Charge: [REDACTED.]
Objective: [REDACTED.]​

​

Davin Courte's history was of little consequence. He was an ambitious man looking to mark history by serving the various powers that ruled the Core Regions. After being vetted and recruited into the Agency, Courte's aptitude initially placed him within SitSec - an operational division within the Organization. His first assignment wasn't as glorious as he was led to believe. As the assigned task was to maintain a recently established Safehouse within the Plexis System. It wasn't an easy feat, by any means. Plexis was a world rife with criminal enterprises. The Safehouse was filled with secrets that would be a proverbial bounty to any local Crime Families. With documents in hand, each detailing their various rivals' strengths and weaknesses, it wouldn't be hard for a Crime Lord to wipe out their competition. Only to rule the Plexian Underground from the shadows thereafter.

Thus, Davin's mission was to ensure the Safehouse's safety and security by any means necessary. He was just thankful that the Agency had done much of the groundwork for him, as establishing new facilities wasn't his forte. The whole establishing a cover story, and ensuring that the chosen location was off the grid enough as to not warrant attention, was too much for his mind at times. But, as luck would have it, that was a taxing endeavour that someone else had to endure. He would've never thought of choosing a partially abandoned hab-block to be the site of their Safehouse. It had less foot traffic and was wholly unremarkable to everyone, including the lower blocks' spice-addicted denizens. Sure, it was a risk to have non-Agency personnel on site - but after several weeks of observation… those addled minds wouldn't be an issue.

They cared for only the bliss of spice, and the Agency was more than happy to let them continually ruin their lives in the pursuit of that enlightening sensation. They couldn't remember faces, let alone what day of the week it was. In many respects, these Addicts were the perfect gatekeepers for a clandestine facility. For who would hide anything of worth with such unfettered desperation at the door?

With such a gamble in place, the Agency elected that the Plexian Safehouse would be their best avenue of debriefing a High-Value Target. Not only would the tumult from the Insurrectionist movement give them the cover they needed, but it would distract any would-be Infiltrators too. Sure, they had changed destinations several times. Doubled back to avoid being tracked by would-be hunters - but there was always something that defied conventional logic. Davin was often fond of blaming the uncertainty and mysticism that accompanied the Force, citing that it was an all-knowing power connected to anything and everything that lived.

Having spent so much time amongst the Sith Empire, their newest "House Guest" as Davin was fond of calling him, would likely be a target for Elimination. Sith Infiltrators had done irreparable damage to another iteration of the Galactic Alliance before. It was possible that with time and preparation, they could do it again. However, this time, the Alliance was ready for whatever insidious tendrils they sought to spread within their ranks. Such truths were evident all around the Agency's Safehouse. With rotating agents, and all manners of security measures situated through the Safehouse, and the habitation block after that? No one was getting in without their knowledge.

And so, with the perimeter checked and subsequently cleared, Davin found himself before the private apartment with the Agency's acquisition situated inside. His mission was now to debrief the target and ascertain his value to the Alliance. If what secrets he had were truly worth his weight in Aurodium - then perhaps they could make his Defection worth their while. There was also another that accompanied this person from the Outer Rim Territories, but they were a more curious addition to his seemingly growing collection of people to debrief. They were a Jedi, of all things, and one that served the New Jedi Order too. They had broken their covenant from the initial reports, and accompanied the Defence Force into an active warzone without proper authorization.

There was likely more to their situation, but Davin didn't really care. A Jedi would do whatever they pleased in the end. What did matter to Agent Courte was that she was the one who rescued this Sith-Imperial Defector - and his Superiors wanted to know why? Something about Jedi oversight and filling in the blanks on their records, He assumed.

Nevertheless, Davin cleared his mind and rapped his knuckles against the door. When a muted call beckoned him inwards, the Agent palmed the access panel and felt the rush of the recycled atmosphere as the door retracted into its housing. Davin was dressed in an unmarked, and tight-fitting bodyglove. Several pouches hung from a belt wrapped around his waist, and a holstered energy weapon clung to the side of his chest, beneath the shoulder. He held two items worthy of note within his hands. The first was a crystalline dataslate that was doubtlessly loaded with information for the Agent to reference and amend as the "House Guest" was debriefed. The other was something uncommon, especially when it came to debriefings and interrogations.

It was a tall decanter of Merenzane Gold - One of the finest bottles that the Agency could provide.

"My apologies for keeping you waiting," Davin said, with a thick Coruscanti accent, as he stepped into the room. "Sadly, there's been some altercations with the Locals, and we've had to triple-check our security measures with a fine-toothed comb. Can't be too careful these days."

As the Agent placed the bottle of Merenzane Gold upon a nearby table, his eyes drifted towards the Defector and drank in the details. Sure, Davin had been here when they brought the man into his Safehouse, but he had never seen the man up close, let alone in person. Much could be said about this man, but his Superior's wouldn't care for his observations. They simply wanted to know what he knew and nothing more. "I am Special Agent Davin Courte," the man said, introducing himself as he wandered away to gather a trio of cups clean enough to drink from. "I'll be handling your Debriefing. As you can imagine, I've been granted permission to judge the information you seek to part with - first hand - before sending it off to my Superiors."

Davin paused for a moment, having found what he was looking for, before turning about and continuing to speak as he approached the table. "Who, in turn, shall distill my assessment and your information with careful consideration. You've come quite far, and likely have much to say." He gestured to the table and to the newly opened decanter of Merenzane Gold.

"Please take a seat, and then let's begin."​

Aerarii Tithe | Auteme​

 

[Saga of Valour]

Coruscant, Senate District.
Grand Convocation Chambers of the Senate Rotunda.​

I had to give credit, where credit was due. With the Representatives of Odik and Khomm stepping forward to put forth this proposal, seeking to enhance the reach of the Alliance’s Judicial Forces - there was the potential for Credits to be made. Sure, the Corporation already had several contracts with countless Local, Federal and Interstellar Precincts throughout the Core Regions. They supplied Enforcement Officers with quality gear and equipment, even so far as going out of their way to arm them with capable methods of keeping the Peace. However, there was always room for expansion.

This certificate, although it was rough and needed some work, had the potential to increase Republic Engineering’s annual profit margins by a noticeable factor. Especially, since the Corporation began expanding into the registered, and personal sales of small-scale arms and armour. They could outfit an entire generation of rising stars within a regulated system, and likely cause successive generations to turn to their Corporate Sales Offices, hungry for the same equipment that allowed others to achieve Glory.

In many ways, this Certificate was a way of drawing the unregulated and illegal operations of the myriad Bounty Hunter Guilds operating throughout the Galaxy. It would allow the Hunters a limited access to the Judicial Database, making it considerably easier to track down their quarry when operating within Alliance space. Despite all of the good that came with this motion, there were causes for Concern. Some of the Planetary Delegations had already given voice to change the proposal. They sought to rid the certificate of it’s lax restrictions, and wholly remove the ability to freely murder Sentient’s within Alliance territory.

Others sought to make observance of this motion voluntary, as some Systems weren’t overly fond of allowing regulated third parties the chance to flaunt their license to kill within their sovereign boundaries.

I couldn’t help but agree with them on all accounts. In accepting this certificate, there was potential for elements of the Underworld to abuse the system and get away with it. Safeguards needed to be put in place to ensure that there was a measured response to every situation that fell within the letter of Alliance law. In addition, there should be the chance for Star Systems to Opt-Out of the certificate’s power. To turn, instead, towards their own Judicial Agencies, alongside the Federal Enforcement Institutions, should their aid be required. Thus, while I was deprived of the capability to vote on such important matters - I was still able to speak, and hopefully convince the Alliance Senate of accepting this motion.

“The delegation of Republic Engineering seeks recognition,” I said, after my Repuslorpod drifted forward from its housing. “First, I must commend the representatives from Odik and Khomm for presenting this proposal to the Senate. Their worlds have endured much during these trying times, and it gladdens me to see that they have our best interests at heart. Secondly,” I said with a flourishing pause, awaiting for the moment when the swirling HoloCams and rousing applause began to peter out. “Secondly, it’s no secret that Republic Engineering seeks to benefit from this certificate’s approval. We have long stood in favour of Law and Order, going so far as to outfit many Local Agencies with the equipment they so desperately need to keep the peace.”

Another pause. This time, it was not one of my own design. Rather, it was a momentary halt to the flow of conversation brought about by scattered applause and projected criticisms - doubtlessly erupting from the Star Systems that had established supply contracts, or my Corporation's detractors. I raised my hand then, and silently thanked them for their support and their... less than constructive comments. However, I still had much more to say.

“However, it is our belief that the powers invested in this Certificate need to be expanded upon, so that the proposal’s airtight and that there are no grey areas - legally-speaking - for these regulated third parties to escape justice for their misdeeds. I’m certain we are all aware of the violent assault on Golbah City some time ago, the former administrative Heart of our Confederate neighbours to the South. And that Bounty Hunters and Mercenaries were the cause of such wanton destruction, which forced the establishment of the Violet Curtain - or the Confederacy First Doctrine.”

I lowered my hand, and allowed it to rest upon the Repuslorpod’s support rails. “I do not wish to see such a travesty occur within Alliance space. Not after all we have suffered over the years. Thus, I would seek to counsel this august body with words of caution, and a question to consider. Not every Bounty Hunter in the Galaxy will abide by our laws, nor will they seek to cooperate with our Federal Agencies. But, with this Certificate in hand? We shall be one step closer to ensuring the safety, and security of our collective society.”

“For, would it not be better to regulate the Guild who presently operates in the Alliance’s shadow? To draw them out into the Light with a proverbial Carrot, and face the measured stick of Justice when they elect to break the Covenant of our Laws?”​

“With that,” I said with a sigh. “I yield the floor.”​

@Alliance Senators | Faith Organa​

 

[Auteme]

Saga of Valour Aerarii Tithe ​

There was a knock on the door, but Auteme didn't wait for permission to enter. She walked right in and sat down on the discolored couch in the apartment's living room. Careful not to touch the back cushions, she sat straight-backed, beside the accountant she'd accompanied from Bastion. Was she allowed to be there? She had no idea. But she was already on a streak of bad ideas, so what was one more?

Like Aerarii, she'd been in the safe house for several days. Unlike Aerarii, she'd been granted many more amenities during her stay -- a cleaner living space for a start. She'd even been given the chance to return to Coruscant due to her position within the Alliance. For whatever reason she'd declined. Maybe it was a sense of responsibility for the former Moff that she'd half-rescued from the Sith, or maybe just instinct. Like the Force had other plans.

The stay hadn't been all bad; with nothing else to do she'd been able to spend time sorting through the many artifacts they'd lifted the Great Library on their way off Bastion. Of course, she'd do a second analysis when she got back to the Jedi Temple, but she familiarized herself with the artifacts enough that she had some ideas for testing their usefulness later.

It was when she'd finished her work for the day that she'd felt a little tug in her mind. And so, out she went, out of the apartment, down the hall, up the stairs, right into the room and onto the couch. She didn't question it. She just thought about how this next interaction would play out.

"I won't interfere," she assured the Special Agent. "I'll just... make sure everything is right."

As much as she was there to ensure that Aerarii was treated fairly, she was also there to make sure the accountant told the truth, both about what happened and what he knew. Given the ring that he still wore, she wasn't able to skim his thoughts. Even if he wasn't wearing it she probably couldn't. But the heart never lied. She inhaled, finding the flow of the Force in her surroundings and her company to better understand the two men.

 

[Maijan Paisea]

OBJECTIVE II // PLEXIS // PATIO SEATING
OPPOSITION: OPEN // Maynard Treicolt // Zaavik Perl
WHO ARE YOU

---

​

Uncomfortable, Maijan shifted and continued to peer down from her perch. Her fingers never stopped plucking through the ripples of the current, but apprehensiveness started to seep into her bones. The Alliance forces were troublesome, and she wasn't sure she wanted to get tangled up so...obviously against a true galactic government. Especially as the waves continued. Syndicates, villains, and thieves were one thing. They had influence like undercurrents and undertows within the oceans, but they never owned the bodies of water. The bigger guns did.

A knot of fear tightened in the back of her throat, and she evaluated the weight of her paycheque. The money was already sitting in her account. She could leave now. Maijan the magician could disappear as easily as she was making the soldiers of the core turn into hideous mutations that were inaccurate representations of themselves. Wretched extensions of a baseline silhouette she built on top of.

Slowly, she rose to stand and rested her elbows on the rest that encircled her carved out hideaway. Her contract was to amass confusion and unite the coalition, giving them enough strength to dissuade The Alliance presence. After that, they'd offered an extension to help with some sort of trafficking option, but she hadn't made her mind yet on that one yet. Her role would have just been the ace in the hole. Contemplating the situation, she schlucked down another hearty sip of the beverage. It bit at her cheeks and throat, pushing past the knot that had built up in her larynx and replacing the bitter taste with something more akin to resolve.

She could leave when her drink was done.

The two Jedi that drew attention didn't boast incredible dents in The Force, and it was easy enough to continue navigating and weaving around them, painting them in layers of atrocity. Their less-Force sensitive counterparts she could do with her eyes closed, and she barely paid them any mind. Their illusions were sticky and moved as they moved.

They had to have an objective here. The first wave had been charged with neutralizing those that paid Maijan, this second wave probably had the same orders with a tertiary nod to liberating the failed firsts. Her second hand moved up to action, fingers stroking through the air, and amidst the chaotic ring of noise, something like shuffling might have been heard. She couldn't replicate sound, but with so much sensory stimulation in the area, she wasn't fretting about it. Moving behind large objects, something like a guard would manifest. The backs of heads, blonde, brunette, short hair, long hair, all replicas of who she'd seen being escorted away hours and hours earlier, would react to left-and-right suggestions of the guard who seemed to be leading the invisible collection away from the scene. Their trajectory toward a ship much further down the line. Quite the opposite direction of the actual headquarters. The movements were minuscule as if they were truly trying to be subtle, but noticeable enough if the Jedi were trying to find a red herring.

 

[Ruus]

Objective II
Tags: Loske Treicolt

---

Ruus' eyes began to slowly open and he saw a blonde Human male sitting across from him in handcuffs "Good" he said with a smile "You're finally awake." putting his cuffed hands to his forehead Ruus didn't feel his helmet and his hands roamed checking for his gear - nothing "Ugh." he groaned when he rolled to sit up "Take it slow, you got caught in the blast." spoke the other officer while Ruus' look was stern "What blast?"

"During the ambush they rolled a canister off the edge of a building, it was full of fuel, you were there when it happened." he explained while he looked over to Loske "The Jedi got captured right after and that was it." Ruus felt a degree of shame but mostly anger "How many made it?" his compatriot shrugged slowly "No telling."

Ruus gave a thankful nod to the other officer as he got to his feet and walked over to where Loske Treicolt was sitting, then sat near her, he could tell she had been injured at a glance "How bad are your injuries?" he asked lowly "Are you able to be moved?"

 

[Kir Dantos]

OBJECTIVE II - Pugnantes Nominis Umbra
Maynard Treicolt Zaavik Perl

​

Kir pulled his orange lightsaber down then slashed upwards before ducking down to dodge a punch from one of the rather dirty vagabonds. He came back around in a roundhouse kick, hopefully knocking out the remaining senses the gangster still had. After finishing off one more of the plucky scum, he continued in a mad dash to reach his Jedi allies in time.

​

"Hard way's always the fun way." Kir responded, dragging his orange blade out of a gangster unlucky enough to meet it.

The other Padawan had been the latest to this skirmish, having had to fight his through to reach both Zaavik and Maynard. On his back, he carried a backpack, full to the brim with explosives, mostly magnetic charges. "Alright guys, I brought some presents. Got some thermal detonators, mostly charges though, sorry Zaavik. I say we blow it up, we're already out in the open, not much point being too sneaky now." He argued, motioning towards the wall the three found in front of them. The most logical thing to do would be to think up another plan, but time never seemed to really be on their side.

"I'd say we got some good contact points. We stick some charges on it, blow it to kingdom come, rush in and take whatever comes at us. Two of us stay and battle the nasties and one sneaks off to go find and rescue the imprisoned. Not the greatest plan in the galaxy but if any of you two have any better ideas, speak now or forever hold your peace."

Kir felt a certain exhilaration that he hadn't felt since the fateful Battle of Bastion that had culminated not too long ago. He'd followed those most close to him into the unknown abyss and unexpectedly come out of it alright. He couldn't really say the same for the Alliance and New Imperial dead who lay in muck, shot to pieces. A lot of his fundamental views had come into question during the conflict, but his resolve to do good had been made even stronger. He had been made to face some of the faults of the New Jedi, and it pained him. But mistakes make better people, a motto he had tried to live by.

This wasn't a full scale battle, but he felt much better doing this. These so called "gangsters" were nothing more than pawns in their supposedly benevolent "master's" scheme. The icing on the Jogan fruit cake was that they'd all probably just up and leave if they could find someone else who could offer better money.

The Jedi Padawan had formed his beefs with the scum and villainy of the galaxy from a young age. Growing up on Corellia, a notorious hive for those looking to dodge the feds, he'd see the harm they did to society. Yet, he understood the complexities of someone put in that position. That made it just a little less hard to slice em.

Remembering the rope he'd also placed in the pack, he stared up at the wall. "I've got some rope if you guys wanna try scale the walls. Or, we could do it the fun way and jump."

 

[Loske Treicolt]

OBJECTIVE II // PLEXIS // UNKNOWN LOCATION
FRIENDS: Ruus
FOES: Maijan Paisea // OPEN​

If you went deep enough, like really deep, even the manufactured metal could be routed back to something natural. Something that The Force could touch, and with that common denominator she could focus on stretching it out, weakening it enough for them to maybe try something to escape.

It was a terrible realization that trying to reach out with The Force was a considerable amount of effort that yielded limited results. Surprised, she peered at the cuffs clamped around her wrists. The villains hadn’t expected a Jedi, they didn't have force-suppressing cuffs. Instead, they’d injected her with sedatives and suppressants. That explained, too, why she’d been so unconscious through the whole transition from the fight to the cell.

She clicked her teeth once angrily, suddenly very aware of how isolated she was in her own perception. She could barely feel any relationships beyond herself. That ever-presentnode of Maynard was little more than a gap in her psyche, it's dimness gave her no solace. Drugs were a significant weakness, and she was easily pacified with any sort of inebriant. Even more so if it was of malicious intent and injected mercilessly.

“Yeah, I can move.” Her attention had befallen the welding before assessing any of her own damages or attempting to knit herself back together. Didn’t matter –– both were indefinitely on pause until the sedatives abated. Parts of the bone were threatening to break flesh if she did anything too quickly, and everything that had been contained was yellow, purple, and other spoiled colours that denoted bruising. It was swollen and bent unnaturally in a limp state. The stun cuffs didn’t help. But the idea of someone having to move her wasn’t something she could entertain. She quickly corrected her statement, so it wouldn’t be open to misinterpretation: “Myself. I can move myself. Thanks for asking”

To test out her theory, she shifted. The pain increased in waves, small lulls giving false hope of an end intermixed, but predominantly it hurt. A pained mewl mixed with her gasp as she pushed to her knees, further trying to demonstrate her independence. “I don’t..know how much time we have...or where we are. But as soon as these sedatives wear off enough, they’re going to regret putting us in here.” As soon as there was enough of an opening, she’d use the technique she’d been planning to use on the door on her own bloodstream, and decimate the intruders in her cells. Then she’d force blast through the stupid door.

The door was thick, but she felt like she could hear a distinctive whine and hiss of an industrial machine. Sounds you could expect when carbon freezing was supposed to happen.

“Of course. I guess that makes sense.” She murmured to herself, partly to the Sector Ranger at her side who could agree or argue with her. “Carbonite would make prisoners infinitely easier to transport people around the galaxy.”

The local enforcer in the corner saw this as an opportunity to reinforce his idea again, his voice thick with fear: “Yes. And disorient you at the drop off location. I’m telling you, these markings look just like that ring. This is bad.”

Loske groaned, trying to use her good hand to scratch an itch on her thigh where some skin had been scraped away in the tussle. It wasn’t worth the shockwaves of pain from her bad arm so she left it.

 

[Aerarii Tithe]

LOCATION: Strategic Intelligence Agency safe house
OBJECTIVE: BYOO
ALLIES: Saga of Valour | Auteme
POST: II

An SIA special agent entered the sullied apartment and introduced themselves. “A pleasure to make your acquaintance Agent Courte,” Aerarii replied as he rose from the begrimed lounger and offered the intelligence officer a welcoming nod of the head. There was no point forgetting his manners, despite the sordid accommodation they had provided. This was the first step in his path to gaining a place within the Galactic Alliance and growing his fortune.

The Jedi Auteme, who had helped Tithe escape Bastion and had been his only regular human interaction since arriving on Plexis, took a seat nearby to observe the proceeding.

“I guess, the, ah, beginning is as finer place as any to begin,” Aerarii said. He poured out three glasses of the expensive liquor, first to his guests, then finally to himself. He needed a moment to gather his thoughts. What he revealed - and conversely didn’t - could influence how the Galactic Alliance received him. It might also determine how doggedly the Sith Empire came after him. “Mhh, divine,” he added as he sampled the golden liquid.


“Well, my entry to Sith service was wholly unspectacular - I found myself on a world they were invading, and when the dust settled, my choices were to serve or perish.” Every good lie had an element of truth to it. Tithe had chosen to be on that planet, knowing full well the Sith were coming. It had cost him most of his fortune to occupy the position of influence within the local government, an investment he hoped would pay off in profits made while in the service of the Sith. The choice once the fighting stopped had been servitude or death, but he’d gone in knowing what he was signing up for.


“I was but a minor functionary in the Banking Clan,” he explained. “Financial management, fiscal policy, national accounts, the expected minutiae of such a large Empire.” It was probably best not to mention the Sith’s use of taxes and trade agreements to control or enslave dissident planets, or the strong-handed Revenue Collection Authority, a militia who collected unpaid debts in the most heinous ways imaginable.

“I rose through the Banking Clan, and ended up as the Chair of the Foreign Investment Board, a minor committee who approved foreign investment in Sith space.” The FIB also regularly awarded contracts for dangerous projects to non-Sith businesses, forcing them to was credits and resources carrying out infrastructure projects on dangerous worlds, only for the Banking Clan to swoop in and repossess the finished project.


“So if you’re interested in the financial disposition of the Sith, I’m certain I can help. But beyond that, I’m a mere bureaucrat who was unwillingly caught up with the machinery of the Sith-Empire. All I ask for is an opportunity to start over, to rebuild my life within your peaceful borders.” The last part, at least, was true, though his motivations were driven more by greed than guilt.

 

[Ruus]

Tag: Loske Treicolt

---

"Yes, though it could also be for goods. Carbonite isn't always a capture tool. Its good to know you're still with us." he replied to her assuring him that she was relatively alright considering their circumstances, although Ruus did not fully believe her. He could see how badly she was hurt and in his experience he would bet that she was less than in combat capable shape. The ranger looked around at their holding cell in an attempt to identify structural weaknesses. There seemed to be nothing that he could exploit without gear "Be quiet." Ruus turned and looked to the enforcer who was talking about a slaving ring "Nobody is getting taken from this cell." he said with daring confidence. The former Mandalorian Guard would not suffer the indignity of being captured twice in one day.

Ruus looked at his stuncuffs then looked to the stuncuffs around Loske Treicolt wrists "They should know those can't contain a Jedi..." his voice trailed in thought. She was being drugged, that was the only reasonable assumption. He had seen half death Jedi and Sith break lesser confines "How much longer?" he asked in a hushed voice "Before you're ready?"

 

[Van Hill]

T E C H N O C R A T ​

Senate Tags: Faith Organa | Adhira Chandra | Saga of Valour | Carolina Tevinter | Julius Loghain ​

​

Solitude didn't live here. Not in this rotunda, not in this congress. That had been apparent the moment he walked in and taken his seat. And while the debates weren't as rigorous and intricate as the ones broadcasted on the HoloNet weeks prior, they still invigorated the Muun.​

​

"The Union agrees with the honorable Representative of the Republic Engineering Corps. His words could not have been truer."​

​

He looked around the Senate Chambers for a moment, catching a glimpse of the Senators and Representives gathered within. "I yield the floor"​

​

He had more to say, yet he choose to remain silent. With the Techno Union only recently becoming a superoter of the Alliance, he foreign to them and their worlds yet this mattered not to him. ​

​

What mattered, he had yet to see. ​

 

[Saga of Valour]

// SIA Safehouse //
Plexian Residential District: [REDACTED.]
Habitation Block: [REDACTED.]
Presiding Agent in Charge: [REDACTED.]
Objective: [REDACTED.]​

Agent Courte wasn’t specialized in interrogation. However, after watching several of his instructors back at the academy, the man picked up a few things. The most important one of them all that the data was in the details. Watch how your subject moves, and listen to how they talk. Through their body language, an Agent could divine if that someone was untruthful, or at the very least, seeking to dodge the question. When all three factors were combined, an Agent could build the leverage they needed to force the truth out of their subject. Thus, with those thoughts in hand, Davin watched Aerarii move about the apartment and pour the golden liquid from the proffered decanter. Even when the Jedi Auteme had entered, his hawkish gaze didn’t stray from the Sith-Imperial Defector. He needed to be focused, for a moment of laxity could mean that a crucial detail would be missed.

Davin listened intently, especially when Aerarii briefly detailed his history and involvement within the Sith Empire. Like many worlds in the path of the Sith Empire’s conquests, they were given a simple choice - had their population’s survived the onslaught. They were to bend the knee and serve the Empire in whatever manner the Dark Council seemed fit or perish beneath the sword. It was barbaric in many ways, but Agent Courte couldn’t deny it’s effectiveness. Especially when the Sith Empire stretched across the majority of the Northern Outer Rim Territories and held a measure of influence across the Galaxy. So, when Aerarii mentioned that was his only choice? Davin could believe it.

But there was something in the way he said his entry was wholly unspectacular that caught his interest. He found himself in a Star System that was caught up in a Sith-Imperial conquest. How does one find themselves on a world in the path of the Sith Imperial war machine? Many questions spawned from that one, seemingly insignificant detail. However, Davin would elect to wait until after the Defector had finished to bring it up, hopefully having found something he could use.

It was at that very moment that things started to get marginally more interesting. According to Aerarii’s own account, the man began his service to the Sith Empire as a minor functionary within their iteration of the Banking Clan. He oversaw national accounts and was heavily involved in the finances of the Sith Empire. That would no doubt be of interest to his superiors, mostly if there were more details to be had. What caused the impassive visage of Davin’s face to finally crack was the revelation that the man sitting before him was formerly the Chair of the Foreign Investment Board. As Agent Courte cocked an inquisitive brow. Now that was something worth looking into. If such claims were verified, it was likely that the man knew about what corporations willingly sought out the Sith and their blood money.

That would give the agency the ammunition they would need to close down several companies within Alliance space suspected of having collaborated with the Sith Empire. Hell, there might be more to be found if they ended up tugging that thread. However, that would be something that needed to be explored at a later time.

As Aerarii finished his brief history and left off with a statement of intent - Davin nodded curtly. He began jotting down the details that he acquired throughout the one-sided conversation on the crystalline dataslate, before remotely transferring them to the rest of his team stationed here on Plexis. They were no doubt going over the recording as soon as the Defector finished speaking. Likely seeking to divine whatever secrets were possibly hidden in this man’s words and truly establish his worth to the Alliance. “I’m sure that my superiors would relish any and all information that you have regarding the financial disposition of the Sith Empire. As I’m sure you know, Mr. Tithe, that Knowledge is power. The more that we have about our enemy, the more likely we are to bring them to justice and put a swift end to this conflict.”

Davin leaned back slightly, then. “As an added plus, I’m sure my superiors would be more than happy to provide you with a new identity. One that will allow you to start your life over within our Borders. However, therein lies the issue. I’d imagine that the Chief of the Sith-Imperial Foreign Investment Board going rogue, defecting, or abandoning their post wouldn’t go over so well with the Dark Council, or the Regional Governors.” He paused then, taking up the glass of Merezane Gold in hand, before gently swirling the liquid with a twist of his wrist. “Especially with the ongoing Civil War with the New Imperial Order. They’ve likely posted a Bounty on your head already, demanding your head - or return to Sith-Imperial space.”

“Which, I think we both know, is a death sentence either way.”​

“Speaking of Sith-Imperial space,” Davin said, placing the glass back down onto the table and turning his hawkish-gaze towards the Jedi. “Ms. Auteme, Would you care to tell us how you came into contact with Mr. Tithe here, and briefly touch on the events leading to your return to Alliance space?”

“My superiors would appreciate having the details filled in, and will give them the chance to connect the dots.”​

| Aerarii Tithe | Auteme |​

 

[Maynard Treicolt]

O U T R I D E R
THE GALACTIC ALLIANCE
JEDI KNIGHT GENERAL
PUGNANTES NOMINIS UMBRA
Zaavik Perl | Kir Dantos | Maijan Paisea
Loske Treicolt | Ruus

Another ganger brought down low ushered in the arrival of Kir Dantos . He was admittedly surprised at the Padawan's swift and brazen arrival and the nature by which he proposed an opening of the breach into the syndicate's hold on Plexis. It was a welcome shift, perhaps one not so unexpected of Dantos. He was learning after Maynard in the end. Even if Treicolt was a less than reliable teacher of the Jedi. He was never adept in adhering to the creed to begin with, far more of a rogue soul than any who might've been imagined as an ideal fit for the New Jedi Order or the creed that it held.

No one could argue that he didn't get shit done however.

"I'd say we got some good contact points. We stick some charges on it, blow it to kingdom come, rush in and take whatever comes at us. Two of us stay and battle the nasties and one sneaks off to go find and rescue the imprisoned. Not the greatest plan in the galaxy but if any of you two have any better ideas, speak now or forever hold your peace."

"I've got some rope if you guys wanna try scale the walls. Or, we could do it the fun way and jump."

"It's not a bad plan, Kir. All I know is. I'm going to go in myself and...kill every last one of them." He admitted, reluctantly at the fact he seemed to readily eager to cut them down low where they stood. Admittedly, very un-jedi like but this was a matter that demanded a different approach than what the Order relegated him to. He might've had a greater thresh hold of patience and temperance when dealing with these lawless knaves had they not taken her. Otherwise he might've taken on the role of the negotiator, the diplomat, to find a bloodless solution here. But emotional impulse drove him greater lengths.

"Regardless, I'll 'sneak' in ahead. Give me some of the line-" He said, before his gaze snapped in the direction of the illusion concocted by the criminal. All vague silhouettes, none of the figures all too instantly identifiable. He could make his judgements but in the force there was a cloud, mirage like vision around them. Instinctively he could tell it to be an illusion, a hoax of the mind and thus he offered a grinding of his teeth in faint frustration. They were trying to play with him. He'd play back and not in any manner they'd hope for.

A fling of the line up to the top of the wall gave Maynard the secure means of scaling the barrier and thus he began the climb. It was quick and quiet but snuffed out when a golden blade came to slice at the cord holding him up, breaking his hold of the wall before the crushgaunt secured over his hands established his grip against the barrier once more, his fingers digging into the material before he pounced himself up to the top of the wall, willing his cobalt saber from his hip with a characteristic crack of the plasmatic blade before he established his footing once more. Opposing him, a man clad in armor with a yellow lightsaber ignited held near his waist, staring down the Concordian with a devilish gaze. A twi'lek with a skin of a greenish hue, eyes in a golden infernal blaze of the dark side. Clearly, a Sith, Dark jedi. Any malediction of the dark creed would do.

In his hand, Maynard instantly snapped to the design of the hilt...it was hers. At that realization he'd let out a cry of anger before swiping forward with a full force and brutalist cut toward the alien who managed to lock his blade with the Jedi's.

"Ohhh, a bit more fury than I would've bargained for from a Jedi." The Twi'lek replied before countering Maynard's attack with a riposte all his own, deflected by the Jedi Knight.

"Shut it." Maynard barked out through gritted teeth, a lunge of the cobalt blade surging toward his abdomen only for the Twi'lek to surge backward from the attack.

"I can see now...something, something ,something is driving this anger isn't it?" The Darksider taunts and a downward diagonal cut of Loske's saber managed to barely slice through Outrider's coat, singing the skin beneath, only serving to invoke that anger from the Jedi once more, the fury reflected pointedly in Maynard's eyes before a foot buried into the Darksider's knee to sending him faltering from his footing, the moment of jostled senses letting him swipe his blue blade and sever the blade hand of the Twi'lek, sending the golden saber into the air before Maynard willed it into his off hand and not a moment after, the tip of the yellow blade rested near his throat.

"Where is she?"

"Where is who...oh- I see now...you're looking for one of them. Must be the pretty one, with the blonde hair. Oh the buyers will certainly enjoy her...wouldn't doubt that she's already been shipped off of this rock. Best to just...kiss that memory goodbye if you know whats good for you Je-" and with that the man's throat felt the plasmatic blaze of the golden saber as Maynard drove it through his neck, twisting it into the flesh as the Twi'lek choked down his final breathes before eventually slicing through, letting the head tremble and fall to the ground beneath.

A kick to the decapitated corpse's chest sent him falling from the wall and unto the ground beneath.

With that his eyes narrowed, he certainly had to be getting closer.