Qyren Leret
Well-Known Member
[member="Mantic Dorn"] [member="Eric Quill"] [member="Kenshi Mitsumoto"]
((General awareness message: This'll be set closer to the present than previously assumed-- maybe 2-3 months in the past-- so Qyren is 20, and I assume you're all the same ages as your bios, etc. Mantic, this takes place the evening of the day you spoke with Qyren.))
Qyren had finally left her home to get some space and a new perspective on her situation. She had spent the afternoon considering her life and what Master Dorn had told her, only changing tracks to speak with her parents when they got home. They hadn't been pleased to learn the Jedi had visited, especially so long after they assumed the Force users would not be returning, but they couldn't prevent Qyren from understanding the gift she had any longer. She wasn't angry with them; she had never wanted to be a Jedi, had never really desired to leave home before, so it wasn't as if her parents had kept her from a dream. It simply explained little things that happened to her, instincts she had chalked up to luck or chance or good observational skills.
The sun was slowly beginning to set, the light beginning to soften as it always did just before it hardened, the rays sharply outlining buildings and casting their elongated shadows across the ground. Qyren ignored those around her, lost in her own thoughts, and nearly walked into a parked speeder on the side of the road. A quick move and a steadying hand on the speeder saved her, but it was enough to remind her to pay attention to her surroundings as well as her own mind.
"We took in quite a haul from that last set of villages. They're always so surprised when we show up; you think they'd have learned to be prepared for our, uh, 'liberating visits' by now."
Qyren glanced in the direction of the voice as her steps slowed. Whoever it was was out behind the only tavern in town, talking gruffly to their companion.
"Better for us they don't learn. Locals are stupid; it's what make 'em easy targets." There was a grunt of agreement that Qyren assumed came from the first voice. She quietly stepped closer, still out of sight of the speakers. "Shouldn't be too long before dark; we can move the cargo then without any notice. Already bribed the locals to turn a blind eye at the loading docks so we can ship it back to the base with no trouble."
"Couldn't have been that hard to bribe 'em," a third voice, female, countered. "They're used to how we do business out here. Talrio's boys should be meeting us there with their own pickings from their last set of towns." A crude response follow the introduction of Talrio's name, but the woman continued, "We'll ship it all out together; he wants it that way." Qyren quietly shrank back, easing herself away from the conversation as the conversation drifted into cursing the name of Talrio and whatever bad history the two groups shared.
It wasn't difficult to identify raiders when they spoke outright about their conquests. As she put significant distance between herself and the cadre of villains, Qyren tried to think of what else they could have been discussing and came up empty. There were no alternatives to a conversation like that. What should she do though? They had specifically said they had bribed locals; if it was someone who needed to look away while stolen goods were being loaded onto freighters, it could only be members of local law enforcement. Qyren's plan to turn them into the police fell apart right there; all she needed to do was confess her knowledge to the wrong person and she would find herself dead or enslaved and out of the way faster than she could get help. She hated being suspicious of her own neighbors, but her town had grown in the last few years; it wasn't quite as trustworthy as she had believed it to be as a child, even if it still retained much of its rustic manners and charm.
Master Dorn will help. Well, maybe not help. He will listen, though, and take the proper course of action. And, if he won't deal with it himself, he'll be safer going to the police than I would be. He's a Jedi; this is what they do.
He had said he would be at the tavern. Qyren stopped and glanced back in the direction she had come. That meant going back to where she knew the raiders would be, and so she hesitated. It would give her the opportunity to maybe see their faces, know who her enemies were, but she would have to find a way to speak with Master Dorn privately; if they overheard her telling him what she knew, it would end badly, and certainly at least without capturing all of the raiders. At most they could get the ones who were here; the men were speaking as being part of a larger ring, something the locals had known was a fact for some time. To be able to stop not one but two of the raiding parties might at least give whoever provided these men their instructions some cause to stop and reconsider his strategy, if nothing else.
Decision made. Qyren returned to the tavern, entering it with trepidation that she felt but did not show. This wasn't exactly a place she frequented; in fact, she usually avoided it at all costs. At first, she was ignored, most men and women already deep enough into their cups or conversations not to care about someone new entering the room. It gave her the opportunity to look around and determine if Master Dorn was already present or if she would have to speak to the owner to have him send someone to Master Dorn's room to let him know she was here.
((General awareness message: This'll be set closer to the present than previously assumed-- maybe 2-3 months in the past-- so Qyren is 20, and I assume you're all the same ages as your bios, etc. Mantic, this takes place the evening of the day you spoke with Qyren.))
Qyren had finally left her home to get some space and a new perspective on her situation. She had spent the afternoon considering her life and what Master Dorn had told her, only changing tracks to speak with her parents when they got home. They hadn't been pleased to learn the Jedi had visited, especially so long after they assumed the Force users would not be returning, but they couldn't prevent Qyren from understanding the gift she had any longer. She wasn't angry with them; she had never wanted to be a Jedi, had never really desired to leave home before, so it wasn't as if her parents had kept her from a dream. It simply explained little things that happened to her, instincts she had chalked up to luck or chance or good observational skills.
The sun was slowly beginning to set, the light beginning to soften as it always did just before it hardened, the rays sharply outlining buildings and casting their elongated shadows across the ground. Qyren ignored those around her, lost in her own thoughts, and nearly walked into a parked speeder on the side of the road. A quick move and a steadying hand on the speeder saved her, but it was enough to remind her to pay attention to her surroundings as well as her own mind.
"We took in quite a haul from that last set of villages. They're always so surprised when we show up; you think they'd have learned to be prepared for our, uh, 'liberating visits' by now."
Qyren glanced in the direction of the voice as her steps slowed. Whoever it was was out behind the only tavern in town, talking gruffly to their companion.
"Better for us they don't learn. Locals are stupid; it's what make 'em easy targets." There was a grunt of agreement that Qyren assumed came from the first voice. She quietly stepped closer, still out of sight of the speakers. "Shouldn't be too long before dark; we can move the cargo then without any notice. Already bribed the locals to turn a blind eye at the loading docks so we can ship it back to the base with no trouble."
"Couldn't have been that hard to bribe 'em," a third voice, female, countered. "They're used to how we do business out here. Talrio's boys should be meeting us there with their own pickings from their last set of towns." A crude response follow the introduction of Talrio's name, but the woman continued, "We'll ship it all out together; he wants it that way." Qyren quietly shrank back, easing herself away from the conversation as the conversation drifted into cursing the name of Talrio and whatever bad history the two groups shared.
It wasn't difficult to identify raiders when they spoke outright about their conquests. As she put significant distance between herself and the cadre of villains, Qyren tried to think of what else they could have been discussing and came up empty. There were no alternatives to a conversation like that. What should she do though? They had specifically said they had bribed locals; if it was someone who needed to look away while stolen goods were being loaded onto freighters, it could only be members of local law enforcement. Qyren's plan to turn them into the police fell apart right there; all she needed to do was confess her knowledge to the wrong person and she would find herself dead or enslaved and out of the way faster than she could get help. She hated being suspicious of her own neighbors, but her town had grown in the last few years; it wasn't quite as trustworthy as she had believed it to be as a child, even if it still retained much of its rustic manners and charm.
Master Dorn will help. Well, maybe not help. He will listen, though, and take the proper course of action. And, if he won't deal with it himself, he'll be safer going to the police than I would be. He's a Jedi; this is what they do.
He had said he would be at the tavern. Qyren stopped and glanced back in the direction she had come. That meant going back to where she knew the raiders would be, and so she hesitated. It would give her the opportunity to maybe see their faces, know who her enemies were, but she would have to find a way to speak with Master Dorn privately; if they overheard her telling him what she knew, it would end badly, and certainly at least without capturing all of the raiders. At most they could get the ones who were here; the men were speaking as being part of a larger ring, something the locals had known was a fact for some time. To be able to stop not one but two of the raiding parties might at least give whoever provided these men their instructions some cause to stop and reconsider his strategy, if nothing else.
Decision made. Qyren returned to the tavern, entering it with trepidation that she felt but did not show. This wasn't exactly a place she frequented; in fact, she usually avoided it at all costs. At first, she was ignored, most men and women already deep enough into their cups or conversations not to care about someone new entering the room. It gave her the opportunity to look around and determine if Master Dorn was already present or if she would have to speak to the owner to have him send someone to Master Dorn's room to let him know she was here.
))