Private Shuffling the Deck

[Scherezade deWinter]

Maximus Kreel​

Man, she hated uniforms. Scherezade pulled the collar slightly away from the hollow of her neck and took a deep breath before letting it snap back to place before she groaned.

It had taken her weeks to prepare for this, and still by her best estimations she would only have a fifteen minute window at best. She halved that number just to be on the safe side, and hoped there wouldn't be any negative anomaly affecting her actions.

She had rented a small personal vessel with forged papers on a nearby neutral world, and then sat down at all the needed coffee shops and places where local authorities tended to go grab a drink after long shifts. There were more than a few details she remembered from her days in the Ministry of Science, where tabs were kept on friends and foe alike, but it didn't make this particular part of her plan any easier.

Infiltration was always tricky business. You wanted to get somewhere you could actually do chit from, but you also couldn't nab too much attention from those surrounding you or your cover would be discovered before you had a chance of safe escape. And today was definitely not a day for safe escapes, if she fudged that up.

The original entry level force enforcer she'd knocked out was now safely seated atop a toilet seat somewhere in the facility behind her. He'd be out for a few hours more and then probably get fired or worse for getting caught. The Sith Empire wasn't exactly known for its lax handling of people screwing up.

The location they were in was great - en route between Zygerria and the SIth capital, endless slave cargo went through this spot. Here was where many domestic cargo ships got out of hyperspace, and continued on while undergoing a few security checkpoints. Scherezade's plan was a simple one. The neutral ship of her own was fast enough for short term escape. She wanted to falsely take control of one of the ship slaves that would be passing through, yank the slaves off to her own ships, and then show them what wonders could be found in the Unknown Regions. Wonders of Chaos. Teehee.

Two ships had already gone by, taken care of those who thought they were her coworkers. When the third ship arrived, Scherezade gave a bright smile, her glowing eyes currently covered with brown contact lenses to hide the glow away. Looking perfectly normal, even under that wig she'd got for the purpose of this little personal mission. Blondes sometimes did have more fun.

Boarding the ship, Scherezade removed her rod from her side, letting it slide along the metal walls as she walked in. It was a small ship, and she could see that there were only thirty or so slaves chained up and locked in. It would make things on her own ship a little bit tight, but it could still be done.

Turning to the ship's officer, she shook her head. "Do you have any idea how many security breaches are going on here right now?" she half shouted, angry, "Just look at this place! You are potentially placing the property of the Empire in harm's way! What are we supposed to tell the Emperor if these good for nothings slip and break their skulls? Sorry mister Emperor, you're going to have to wipe your own hiney until we get a replacement?"

She spat to the side, making sure to look absolutely disgusted. "Where's your cleaning crew?!"

 

[Maximus Kreel]

Maximus was part of the cleaning crew forced to work aboard the ship, he was just at his usual duties. The lower tasks of the ship usually in transit were left to the slaves. Tasks that none of the guards wished to take part of. Maximus was hard scrubbing and mopping. The collar placed around his neck like all collars were for slaves who attempted to escape would be destroyed through an explosion. As much as he didn't want to do such tasks as scrub the ship. He had also realized that there was nothing more he could do. He was en route to the capital of the Empire, and like it had been on Zygerria and the frontier of Sith-Imperial space, nothing was bound to change if not getting worse by the day.

The guards watched closely on the group, a mixed bag of aliens, political prisoners, Jedi sympathizers and other mystics. Usually, all the troublemakers of the Empire, or even subjugated people the Empire thought too weak to be proudly among their ranks. While Maximus scrubbed furiously, there were bouts of the guards beating the slaves. Sometimes out of the pure enjoyment of it. Maximus grunted after a guard was beating him down while making his watch upon the group. Gritting his teeth taking in the beating, the guard had stopped, spat on the ground, with a small smirk and walked away.

Getting back to work, working harder this time hoping not to displease the guards. He felt his anger rise, if only to calm himself a moment later. His anger was useless in this situation, but he himself did not deny a rising power slowly stirring in moments of his anger. He just did not know what it was, how to deal with it. Even harness it in some way, and for what purpose? That was ultimately unknown to him. Instead, he always remained quiet. It always was the best option. Better to stay quiet and down than to fight and die. It was futile when the odds were unfairly stacked against him.

Yet, as he worked he could feel something. A feeling of which was familiar. As if being around the Sith Lords, he felt a chill ran up and down his spine. A shudder striking him, a small shake of his body as if the room temperature dropped. A strange and odd feeling, and yet he wondered if it was something more. If someone had come here. If fate would perhaps have something else in mind for the slave.

Scherezade deWinter

 

[Scherezade deWinter]

Maximus Kreel​

She'd used up thirty seconds. Thirty seconds, and not a step closer to what she actually wanted to do. Scherezade kept the tough officer look on her face as she continued her inspection, barking orders and insults at useless ship staffers as she moved through the ship, picking up the number of different blood flows she could sense through her Blood Hound abilities. A few breaths later, and she knew exactly how many people were on the ship, andwwhere. The problem was, not all of them were slaves, and while she knew the location of a heart beat, it didn't mean she knew what type of person it belonged to.

Forty five seconds. Still not sufficiently advanced in her plans. Continuing her "inspection", she began to make her way down in the ship, to where the slaves were usually kept. The staffers were right behind her, and a few of them up ahead, and none of them seemed all too pleased, especially after she threatened to take a double toll tax amount just for bringing so much useless crap into the highly esteemed and wonderfully deliciously evil capital's area. Yes, she actually used all those words.

Sixty seconds. That barely left her with any time at all. It was mid-shout that she stopped herself and sighed, her hands going up to her face. It was apparent that she struggled for a moment before she finally managed to remove the contacts and then blinked. Her back was still to most of the ship's staffers that had followed her, but the slaves and few other staffers in front of her would all be able to see it if they just looked - a pair of green glowing eyes, filled more with laughter than with the usual hardness seen in individuals fulfilling a low level cop job like this.

She smiled at all of them, and raised her hand, inviting them to join her. "Hey you guys?" she asked, her voice now sounding way bubblier than it had up until that moment, though it was still deep. "If you're not in the mood to be a slave to the SIth Empire, follow me!"

Without waiting for an answer, the woman spun and went down on a knee. Before her spin was complete, a lightsaber slid into each of her hands and she ignited them, the beam as green as the shade of her eyes, glowing as well. The ship staffer that had been standing right behind her found his body suddenly split half vertically, and it was hard to ignore the laughter that came from her as she launched from that spot forward, lightsabers turning off only until they stuck to the next person's forehead a split of a second before she ignited them back on.

Scherezade could guess what was happening before her - if the slaves had any sense to them, they would be starting a fight as well, using the chaos and mayhem she'd just created to overcome their enslavers. Some would die in that endeavor, no doubt. But life was meant for the living and for the strong. Better to die fighting on your feet than a slave in a cage somewhere anyway. She was all pro slavery and stuff, but not all forms were the same, and now that she was mid-combat was hardly the time to begin consider life's philosophies. If the slaves behind her weren't fighting, they'd probably end up dead anyway. Whether or not she got out of that ship alive would hold no bearing - they were present, so they were at fault, and would be executed.

Making her way upstairs to the general level, the place was now packed. There had been more people on board than met the eye, and now most of them were gathered here, right between her and the exit door.

The law enforcer uniform she'd worn ripped apart as her knives unleashed themselves from her body. Thirteen blades in addition to the two lightsabers in her hands, concealed well enough that few if any ever noticed them before it was too late. The blades spread around the Sithling in a fan before each of them darted forward, following its own pattern. Scherezade had trained in the art since the first week out of the pebble that had imprisoned her for seven hundred years. She was very good at fighting with multiple blades simultaneously through telekinesis application.

Moments later, and many of them were on the floor, but her weapons were wedged into the walls of the ship. Taking them out would take more time than she wanted to, which brought on the next wave of her attack.

All the remaining ship staffers in the room came to a complete halt as Scherezade's presence in the Force swelled so much that it could cause a mental sensation of suffocating. The Blood Hound grinned, and raised her hands. Her enemies tried to scream, but only gurgled sounds came out. MOment by moment, it could be seen that their eyes became redder and redder, any exposed skin becoming a deep shade of purple.

Most species' bodies were not designed to have their blood flow outside of their veins. None that she had met could survive when she really set her mind to it and called the Blood from it, defying their physical functions as the elixir of life poured out through their pores and skin, first beginning as a mouth, eyes, nose, and ears bleed, and then turned into a water fountain of blood, the crimson liquid spraying out of their bodies.

The floor was now filthy. And sticky. And it sort of smelled light a slaughter house.

Scherezade smiled, her body language relaxing just a little bit as she walked towards the door, fully ready to make a space jump outside.

There was only one problem.

"Chit," Scherezade murmured under her breath before turning to anyone who might be behind her, "Anyone got a key for this thing?"