Public Righteous Thievery

[Kain Aldore]

Location: Keitum Starport​

Kain walked through the starport pushing a Repulsorlift crate, Inside? Emp charges, slicing equipment, and several stun rifles. Their purpose? Liberating aid supplies from a group that had more than they needed.

This wasn't the first time he'd done this job, nor the second. It was however number three, and with Kain typically the third time was when his luck went right out the evac port. So he'd sent out word though some underworld contacts he had on Correllia. He honestly didn't know who'd show up, it was a risk even putting it out there through a non-vetted source, anyone and their refresher could show up ready to blast at him right there in the space port, though he'd hoped that wouldn't be the case.

Pushing the crate up the ramp of his ship and taking a breath. The first two times went off without a hitch, zero blaster fire, just confused supply workers stationed at small outpost with a surplus of aid supplies they'd likely never touch. Supplies he'd ferry to the convergence zones and sell for half their worth.

While his current tactics had been enough for fuel, this would be a bigger target, a larger supply depot on Oben what he'd been doing was stanching the bleed, he'd hoped this would be enough to act as a temporary suture for those displaced.

"What the hell am I thinking... I'm going to end up on a bounty poster at this rate." He mumbled to himself as he sat on a crate outside his ship. He'd given a rendezvous time and location. For anyone wanting to join this daring little adventure. Now came the hard part, waiting.

Tag: Lucaant Vaneric

 

[Lucaant Vaneric]

Location: Keitum Starport​

Kain walked through the starport pushing a Repulsorlift crate, Inside? Emp charges, slicing equipment, and several stun rifles. Their purpose? Liberating aid supplies from a group that had more than they needed.

This wasn't the first time he'd done this job, nor the second. It was however number three, and with Kain typically the third time was when his luck went right out the evac port. So he'd sent out word though some underworld contacts he had on Correllia. He honestly didn't know who'd show up, it was a risk even putting it out there through a non-vetted source, anyone and their refresher could show up ready to blast at him right there in the space port, though he'd hoped that wouldn't be the case.

Pushing the crate up the ramp of his ship and taking a breath. The first two times went off without a hitch, zero blaster fire, just confused supply workers stationed at small outpost with a surplus of aid supplies they'd likely never touch. Supplies he'd ferry to the convergence zones and sell for half their worth.

While his current tactics had been enough for fuel, this would be a bigger target, a larger supply depot on Oben what he'd been doing was stanching the bleed, he'd hoped this would be enough to act as a temporary suture for those displaced.

"What the hell am I thinking... I'm going to end up on a bounty poster at this rate." He mumbled to himself as he sat on a crate outside his ship. He'd given a rendezvous time and location. For anyone wanting to join this daring little adventure. Now came the hard part, waiting.

Tag: Lucaant Vaneric

"Oh, my God will certainly forgive you... But unfortunately, I won't."

⏵ Play Theme

Location: Kaitum Starport
Objective: Complete the contract.
People involved: Kain Aldore
---​

The starport buzzed like a nest that had grown too used to chaos. Engines howled, vendors barked in six languages, and somewhere, someone was definitely losing a game of sabacc they thought they had in the bag.

Luccant moved through it all like a ghost that hadn't yet decided who to haunt.

By the time he reached the docks, he'd already picked out the ship. It had the look — half functional, half held together by spite, and posted outside, a man perched on a crate like he was waiting for the worst-case scenario to show up right on time.

Luccant stopped a few paces away, scanning the crate. Repulsorlift frame. Subtle outlines of EMPs and slicer gear. Nothing loud. Tactical. Meant for restraint, not slaughter. That told him something.

He looked at the man. Weathered, calculating. Looked like he’d done this before and still didn’t trust it to go smooth. Smart.

"You’re Kain."

It wasn’t a question.

"I saw your posting."

A pause, just long enough to mean something.

"Open channel. No encryption. No shadow routing."

His tone was flat, matter-of-fact.

"So either you were rushed. Or you wanted to be found."

He took a step closer, gaze flicking over the ship.

"Not the first job. That’s the part you didn’t mention. First went smooth, so this is the one where it doesn’t. That’s why you need help."

He wasn't boasting. Just analyzing, reading the situation like a report on a datapad.

"I'm not here for credits, mostly."

Another beat.

"I’ll take a cut if it things go south, but I don’t spend often enough to care."

He glanced down at the crate, then at Kain again.

"If this is quiet work, I can't keep it that way. If it gets loud, I’ll still be standing at the end." He sighed and looked again at the crate. "I see you're not going for a kill, I don't like keeping people behind."

It wasn't a threat, just a statement, an expression of his life philosophy.

He hesitated — just for a breath — like remembering he was supposed to say something more human.

"If we don’t die horribly, I’ll call that a win."

Still no smile. Just the honest delivery of someone who wasn’t wired for charm.

He shifted his weight against the crate slightly, his posture casual but ready.

"You want someone who shows up, doesn’t panic, and doesn’t ask questions you don’t want to answer."

A beat.

"That’s me."

He looked at the ship, then back at Kain.

"You got an op. I’m in. Just tell me where I sit."
​

 

[Csariden]

❖ CSARIDEN ❖
Rebuilt For Revenge.

A watchtower blinked once on the far edge of the port.

Then it screamed.

Silent flash—then smoke.
A dark streak carved the wind, trailing behind a low-pitched whrrrrr like a predator's breath.

Before the guard could finish his sentence, his comms died—fingers twitching on a severed feedline. A second too late, the camera spun to catch a shadow vaulting the parapet, dismembering light with every strike.

One motion: a plasma dagger split a rifle’s barrel.
Another: a palm thrust caved in a rebreather.
Third: silence again.

No alarm.

From the smoke walked a figure with no call sign, no footprint—just scorched metal inlaid across bare Chiss skin, steam bleeding from servo joints like sighs from a corpse.

He stepped over the guard’s body without looking. His voice was frayed, scorched and bit crushed by the vocoder of his prosthetics.

> "Port security. Fragile as ever."

His voice cut low and rough, unhurried. Modulated.

Kneeling, he slotted a micro-spike into the terminal node beneath the tower’s deck. Data unscrambled. Firewalls folded. Access maps unfolded in glowing veins across his optical field.

Cargo zone locked. Operational window shrinks by the second.

Two minutes to breach. One to disappear.

A half-turn. He looked toward the starport’s west flank, where shadows tangled with light between crates and patrol routes. The mission had begun before anyone realized he was already inside.

"They'll never see you coming."

He whispered it into the line like a promise.

Kain Aldore Lucaant Vaneric
​

 

[Kain Aldore]

Kain looked up from where he'd been gazing with intent, not exactly startled, but mildly amused. The man didn't posture, didn't play with his words or try and impress, he just stood there and spoke, sharp.

"Figure all that out on you own huh? Why cant it be both desperation and bait?" He stared Lucaant down like he'd crossed a line, before cracking the dumb grin he was know for as the tension he'd been building faded away.

He stood up, boot scuffing the crate as he gave a bow, one full of sarcasm and lacking any sort of regal refinement. His gaze met Lucaant's as he looked at his baby "Welcome to The Slate Runner, held together with hopes, dreams, and a hyperdrive capacitor on it's last legs. Named while I was way too drunk, and it hisses whenever I bank to the left." Kain's voice may have been playful but his eyes told a different story, he tracked the mans every subtle shift and choice of word. Kain wasn't an idiot, okay maybe he was, but he joked when he was nervous, and right now he could turn the cargo bay of his ship into a standup comedy routine.

He thumbed to the crate "That gear was originally for autonomous security systems and locks, not moving targets, It seems someone got wise to their stuff getting swiped. Mobile shipment, tighter engagement space, less time to to react. Typical chit"

Somehow things always got funny for him, not in a laughing way, more of a rancor in an enclosed space stuck on its back way.

"They've moved the aid supplies onto a transpo, it's leaving Oben sometime in the morning, which makes this easier in some ways, harder in others. Despite her size my ship is surprisingly fast. We'll exit the hyperspace lane right over the transport and dock before they can even scramble snub fighters."

Contrary to his own belief he really wasn't dumb. The slicing equipment could be hooked up to the transponder in the slate runner for a one time short use, masking their signature, though it would probably only last for the amount of time it took them to dock. Kain then looked at Lucaant Vaneric with a more serious gaze.

"Listen while I appreciate the enthusiasm, I'm not here looking to turn this into a firefight, there is probably Diarchy Armed Forces in some capacity on the ship, their doing just their job, I'd prefer we at least start with the stun guns, though if they start rocking blaster bolts at us I won't stop you."

Kain shifted on his heels as the sounds of landing ships filled the lack of his energetic personality "If you're still in, welcome aboard, there's caf in the kitchen which tastes like how carbon scoring looks, we dust off before dawn so grab some shut eye while you can." Kain stopped as a pit formed in his stomach, something was wrong, though his poor attunment to anything regarding his senses didn't exactly tell him what, so he looked around and shrugged it off

Tags: Lucaant Vaneric Csariden Caelus Vire // NIHIL

 

[Csariden]

❖ CSARIDEN ❖
Rebuilt For Revenge.

The bay door slid open with a screech it hadn’t made before.

Csariden stepped through—deliberately, noiselessly—but there was a weight to his presence now, like gravity had tilted toward the wrong part of the ship.

He didn’t look at the others right away. His red eyes were fixed on the wall behind Kain, like he was trying to see through it.

“I tapped the Slate Runner’s nav from the comm tower. She’s fast. She’s leaky. But she’ll hold.”

He dropped a small black case near the crate—its latches already open, contents already organized. Slicer gear, neural jacks, stun net coils.

He didn’t explain the loadout. Just stared at it for a moment, then finally looked up.

“You want it clean.”

He said it with the caution of a blade being returned to its sheath, not out of mercy—but because it was someone else's turn to kill.

A beat. A low, half-choked sound behind his respirator. A laugh? No. Just breath, rough with modulation.

Not my war, not today.

He turned slightly toward Lucaant—not enough to invite, just enough to measure. And then to Kain.

Eyes like targeting lasers. Voice like a saw across metal.

“You feel it.”

A step closer.

“Not Force. Not fate. Just friction. You planned for variables. But I’m not one of them.”

Another beat. No blinking.

“The Diarchy doesn’t guard humanitarian cargo. They flag it. They know this route. They want to see who bites.”

His hand flexed, servo joints twitching with an almost imperceptible whine.

“We go in clean. If it stays clean, I’ll follow orders. But if it turns, I won’t hesitate. I won’t mourn. And I won’t slow down.”

The lights from the ship's overheads flickered, just once.

He didn’t notice.

He just turned and walked past them toward the internal hull—disappearing again into the shadows between bulkheads.

Not my war, not today. But if it becomes mine—

He said nothing more.

Kain Aldore Lucaant Vaneric​

 

[Kain Aldore]

Kain let out a long breath, he held his hand over the net coils as one slowly floated up to him, moving it around between his fingers with a grin that said. "Oh yeah... i can have some fun with these."

"Sure know how to make an introduction. Hey wait, she does not Leak. That is condensation run off got it?"

His smile faded "Listen I don't care why you're here not really. While it's nice to see you prepared, If things go sideways I expect professionalism, so if you need to get violent fine. But we're not there for you to turn the transport into your personal gladiatorial arena, yeah?"

Kain dropped the net into the case and rolled his shoulders "I'm sure the Diarchy has their own reason for putting this out their as bait, I've been annoying, okay that's not new. Though them moving it around to keep it out of my hands?"

A beat

"That is New" Kain closed the case with a flick of his finger and then made his way through his ship. time had been passing slowly and the departure of this crew was almost upon them."

Csariden Lucaant Vaneric

 

[Csariden]

❖ CSARIDEN ❖
Rebuilt For Revenge.

The case clicked shut with a mechanical snap.

From where he crouched near the wall—half-shadowed by a rack of old shock armor—Csariden didn't move to meet Kain’s gaze. He let the warning hang. Let it echo.

“I don’t kill for sport. Sport needs rules.”

He stood, servo limbs folding into locked alignment, and ran a fingertip along the Slate Runner’s exposed bulkhead. Metal scraped against metal—lightly.

“You want control. I don’t fault you. But don’t lie to yourself about the nature of your line of work.”

He looked up, face cast in dim red from the emergency deck lights. One step past Kain. A controlled orbit. Not defiance—just friction. He paused, then added—quietly, bitterly:

“Greed is in us all. Lucky for me, blood is cheap. You'll get your cargo, your credits. Now or later, I'll get my due.”

And with that, he crouched into a dark corner to return to his remote slicing augments, tracking and adjusting for automated countermeasures. Just the soft whirr of augmetics vanishing into the dark, lit by a crimson eye with rapidly scrolling green binaric.

Kain Aldore Lucaant Vaneric​

 

[Lucaant Vaneric]

Kain looked up from where he'd been gazing with intent, not exactly startled, but mildly amused. The man didn't posture, didn't play with his words or try and impress, he just stood there and spoke, sharp.

"Figure all that out on you own huh? Why cant it be both desperation and bait?" He stared Lucaant down like he'd crossed a line, before cracking the dumb grin he was know for as the tension he'd been building faded away.

He stood up, boot scuffing the crate as he gave a bow, one full of sarcasm and lacking any sort of regal refinement. His gaze met Lucaant's as he looked at his baby "Welcome to The Slate Runner, held together with hopes, dreams, and a hyperdrive capacitor on it's last legs. Named while I was way too drunk, and it hisses whenever I bank to the left." Kain's voice may have been playful but his eyes told a different story, he tracked the mans every subtle shift and choice of word. Kain wasn't an idiot, okay maybe he was, but he joked when he was nervous, and right now he could turn the cargo bay of his ship into a standup comedy routine.

He thumbed to the crate "That gear was originally for autonomous security systems and locks, not moving targets, It seems someone got wise to their stuff getting swiped. Mobile shipment, tighter engagement space, less time to to react. Typical chit"

Somehow things always got funny for him, not in a laughing way, more of a rancor in an enclosed space stuck on its back way.

"They've moved the aid supplies onto a transpo, it's leaving Oben sometime in the morning, which makes this easier in some ways, harder in others. Despite her size my ship is surprisingly fast. We'll exit the hyperspace lane right over the transport and dock before they can even scramble snub fighters."

Contrary to his own belief he really wasn't dumb. The slicing equipment could be hooked up to the transponder in the slate runner for a one time short use, masking their signature, though it would probably only last for the amount of time it took them to dock. Kain then looked at Lucaant Vaneric with a more serious gaze.

"Listen while I appreciate the enthusiasm, I'm not here looking to turn this into a firefight, there is probably Diarchy Armed Forces in some capacity on the ship, their doing just their job, I'd prefer we at least start with the stun guns, though if they start rocking blaster bolts at us I won't stop you."

Kain shifted on his heels as the sounds of landing ships filled the lack of his energetic personality "If you're still in, welcome aboard, there's caf in the kitchen which tastes like how carbon scoring looks, we dust off before dawn so grab some shut eye while you can." Kain stopped as a pit formed in his stomach, something was wrong, though his poor attunment to anything regarding his senses didn't exactly tell him what, so he looked around and shrugged it off

Tags: Lucaant Vaneric Csariden Caelus Vire // NIHIL

"Oh, my God will certainly forgive you... But unfortunately, I won't."

⏵ Play Theme

Location: Kaitum Starport
Objective: Complete the contract.
People involved: Kain Aldore
---​

Lucaant didn't smile.

He stood still as Kain cracked the tension with a grin and a bow, that nervous charm oozing through his words like oil on old metal. The former Inquisitor didn’t move. Didn’t laugh. Didn’t even shift weight.

He just watched.

When Kain finished, the silence that followed wasn’t awkward—it was surgical. Deliberate. Like a scalpel held just above the skin.

Then Lucaant spoke. Low. Direct.

“Desperation and bait are not opposites.”
A pause.
“They just taste different when they fail.”

He stepped once toward the crate—toward the gear Kain had gestured to—then glanced at it with no more than a passing interest. One gloved hand traced the edge, never fully touching.

“Jury-rigged countermeasures. Predictable escalation.” His tone didn’t judge. It simply observed.
“Means someone’s bleeding money—or they’ve already lost more than credits.”

He finally looked at Kain again, studying him in full now—the twitch under the humor, the shift in tone near the end. Lucaant didn’t press it. Didn’t comment.

He just catalogued it.

When the talk turned to the operation, Lucaant’s attention returned fully.

“Approach vector makes sense.”
His eyes narrowed slightly.
“But it also means we only get one shot. If the transponder mask fails, you’ll lose the initiative before we’re in range.”

There was no panic in his voice. No concern. Just facts. Precise, pared-down. Meant to test whether Kain had thought this through—or if he was betting on luck again.

Then, the final part.

Kain’s plea for restraint.

The request not to start a war where a quiet job would do.

Lucaant let that hang. Let Kain’s words settle and curdle under the weight of his silence.

Then, finally:

“If they shoot first, they won’t get a second chance.”

He turned, slowly, heading toward the far corridor without looking back.

“I don’t carry a stun setting.”

A beat passed. Maybe two.
Then, almost as an afterthought—still walking:

“Wake me when we breach atmosphere. And if your caf ever stops tasting like ash, throw it out. Means the filters are clogged with something worse.”

He vanished into the dark toward the crew quarters—silent, methodical, already filing through scenarios and breach routes in his head.

Because jokes were fine. Plans were good.

But Lucaant Vaneric came prepared to end things. Not to entertain them

Spoiler

sorry forgot to answer D: — I had smth already prepared sorry (again) if I couldn't take in account other answers on the thread

​

 

[Voice of the Diarchy]

Diarchy Humanitarian Cargo Vessel "DHS-Valebright"
Convoy Route - Mid Rim

Wide-bodied and slow were the best descriptions for the freighter, its hull bore the ivory markings of the Diarchy's Relief Corps, with banners of crimson and gold etched along the sides. Within, the crew moved with quiet efficiency. Engineers checked reactor output and shield harmonics. Medics inventoried cryo-beds and bacta tanks. Civilian liaisons prepped translator droids and offloading manifests. In one of the side hangars, a converted troop bay was now stacked floor to ceiling with ration crates, potable water barrels, field shelters, and climate stabilizers

A vessel unarmed, but not undefended. Though the Valebright bore the crest of mercy, her corridors did not echo with complacency. Humanitarian or not, the Diarchy understood that kindness invited teeth and where desperation reigned, even good intentions could be taken at gunpoint. The security detachment aboard was small by military standards. Thirty soldiers total. Not conscripts or greenbloods, but seasoned regulars drawn from the Diarchy Armed Forces and two Liaisons from the Brotherhood (FU order) - all ready to give their life in service. Each carried a modular loadout: collapsible carbines, stun-pikes, deployable shield-bracers, and sidearms set to pulse rather than pierce. But if the situation called for lethality, that too could be arranged, quickly,

Within several jumps of the Valebright were normal Lilaste order and Diarchy naval ships that in a pinch could come quickly through trusted hyperlanes to reinforce the ship. Alas, all on board knew what they were doing, how easy of a target they were, and were willing to die for the cause of aiding the galaxy. Upholding the Diarchy image that they were not simply murderous hounds wanting to overthrow the two strongest governments in the galaxy.

The security teams worked in pairs. Rotating shifts covered key junctions, cargo bays, medstations, and the hangars. If someone boarded this ship with hostile intent, to steal food, take prisoners, or worse. They would not find pacifists. They would find professionals.

Kain Aldore Csariden Lucaant Vaneric

 

[Kain Aldore]

Kain sat in the common room drawing up a plan, He'd done a little studying on their target but figured, if the forced willed it, it would be his time.

"So I recognize the chances this goes south are higher than fifty percent. but I'd still like to try. So one more time. We'll use the equipment to mask my ships signature right as we exit the hyperspace lane. I'll dock us with the Valebright and cut the power to everything except life support."

Kain was running through the layout of the ship, and several documents he'd let go of a good amount of his cargo for. Though in a situation like this it was worth it, they'd score big if it went of without a hitch. If.

"That should hide our signature against the hull of the ship. From there we time out assault during the guard rotation, if we do this right we can slice the freighters door control and simply lock everyone out of where we need to be. From there we need to make sure two things get done. Most importantly Comms on the ship need to be jammed, then I'd like to turn off their hyperdrive."

It sounded simple in his head, but the roster of the ship was the concerning part. He shifted his jacket feeling his lightsaber next to his chest. If one person wasn't where they were supposed to be during rotation, this plan would go up faster than a violently shaken canister of Rhydonium.

Looking to Csariden and Lucaant Vaneric "When you reach the com room, stun whoever is in there, unless of course they have a bigger blaster."

A beat

"Questions, Concerns, Comments from the peanut gallery?"

Diarch Rellik