Private The Blockade Parley || Korvis Laerann & Haytham Marr

[Haytham Marr]

B L O C K A D E
TAGS - Korvis Laerann
LOCATION - Kal'Shebbol, Kathol Sector, Trition Trade Route

Getting stopped at a checkpoint on a commercial trade route wasn't an unusual occurrence, especially in Sith space. Getting stopped by a Star Destroyer, on the other hand, was quite unexpected.

As each ship was pulled out of hyperspace by the interdiction field, they were greeted by a petrifying sight; an Imperial Star Destroyer of the Sith Order, insulting the natural beauty of the dark void with its sharp figure. One by one, each ship was hailed and dragged into one of the ship's hangars by the powerful tractor beams. What happened within was anybody's guess, but the grizzly captains made up for that with their horror stories over local comms as they waited to be pulled in.

"Unidentified freighter, this is Comms Officer Kadann of the Star Destroyer 'Patrician', transmit codes and surrender yourself to inspection." a stock phrase that raised certain doubts as to whether there really was a comms officer named Kadann aboard the Star Destroyer, or if it was really called the 'Patrician'.

Shortly after the transmission came across, the tractor beams locked onto the Phoenix Reborn and began to drag it into one of it's secondary hangar bays. Inside the ship was quite standard; a complete absence of colour on the durasteel walls, set apart only by the sheer blackness of the armour, uniforms and robes of the entourage waiting for the freighter's arrival.
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[Korvis Laerann]

Location: Kal'Sheddol, Kathol Sector, Trition Trade Route
Tag: Haytham Marr

Stars flicked past the light freighter’s bridge viewport like wispy blue-white streaks of light as the Phoenix Reborn surged through hyperspace, destination set for the Outer Rim planet of Kal’Shebbol. While the captain of the vessel, a young human male named Korvis, had done many runs through this sector of space in the past, he’d not done one here since his time smuggling spice, among other contraband, for the Black Sun Cartel. Yet, his latest contract had him transporting an unmarked container to the Kal’Shebbol system. Korvis didn’t ask for the details of what the container held, but whatever was inside was apparently worth a lot of credits. 80,000 credits in fact.

Korvis had slipped into a trance, his eyes shut while cinematic visions danced across his subconscious as he dreamed of what he might do once he got paid for this uncannily simple job. Those visions were soon wretched from his mind as he felt the Phoenix Reborn lurch to a grinding stop, nearly throwing him from his seat on the bridge in the process. Groggily he came to and rubbed his eyes. An ominous shadow overtook the ship, and as his gaze shifted upwards, the iconic triangular shape of a Star Destroyer overtook a backdrop of stars within the vacuum of open space.

“What the..” he began, before being interrupted by a series of whistles and beeps from the old astromech that appeared panicked. “Calm down, Rusty!”

He’d named the old droid Rusty due to its age and the very noticeable rust and corrosion sporadically marking the machine’s chassis.

Just as the astromech began to lay into another torrent of panicked beeps and whistles, a seemingly auto generated message rang through the ship’s comm’s with a mundane, boxed message, but not a message he wanted to hear at this time.

’The kriff,’ Korvis thought to himself. ‘There was nothing on the net about customs nor an inspector on this route.’ He paused in thought as Rusty yet again let loose a series of incoherent binary. “Transmit the codes, already!” Korvis’ command was met with another series of beeps and whistles as the droid begrudgingly moved to a port and sent the codes over. Meanwhile, Korvis exited the bridge and headed down one of the ship’s corridors. ’Better if they don’t find this,’ he thought to himself as he stowed the unmarked container into a compartment hidden beneath some of the floor paneling, seemingly unnoticeable to any that held no knowledge of its location within the ship.

The Phoenix Reborn lurched again as the Star Destroyer’s tractor beam array took hold and forcibly grounded the light freighter within one of its hangars. Korvos, in turn, made his way to the cargo bay by one of the loading and off-loading ramps and awaited whatever came next.

Though he did have a bad feeling about this.​

 

[Haytham Marr]

B L O C K A D E
TAGS - Korvis Laerann
LOCATION - Kal'Shebbol, Kathol Sector, Trition Trade Route

Waiting in the hangar was a squad of troopers, rifles held at the ready as they stood in parade formation, headed by two officers; most notably, however, was a dark-robed individual who, by his ghastly complexion alone, could be nothing but a Sith. Two more ships were sitting, idle, in the hangar, no doubt already being torn apart by the menacing troopers.

Once the ramp to the Phoenix Reborn hissed open, the troopers stepped forward, raising their weapons and training them on the ramp, marching up and into the ship, followed by the Sith, and then the officers, who swiftly moved to drag Korvis out of the ship. The junior of the two kept a firm grip on the captain's upperarm while the senior, with about as much conviction in his eyes as a tired dog, started rattling off the official details.

"I'm Lieutenant Barrar, as of now your ship has been seized by the Empire in accordance with a blockade of the Kathol System." he drawled, "Please present all documents, including licenses, shipping manifests, orders, and other permits." he added, "Failure to comply may result in your vessel being impounded, all goods aboard being seized, as well as a suspension of your permits, licenses, including a citation and term of mandatory detention without parole." the Lieutenant began, an ensuing laundry list of threats that an ordinary citizen wouldn't even dare to think were unreasonable, if they aimed to stay in the good graces of the authority.

Scrolling through a datapad, his unenthusiastic gaze falling away to the red screen, he was unfortunately not done talking. "If you believe you may be transporting illicit substances, contrary to Imperial Codes and Regulations, please declare them now or face-" Barrar stalled, his sentence fading off as the monotony of his tired voice was replaced by the sharp steps of the troops returning, offset by the mismatched and aggravated steps of the Sith.

"Fetch Lord Marr." the ghoul-faced Sith growled to nobody in particular, though the Lieutenant seemed rather pleased to be able to escape the remarkably unsettling presence of the young adept. Turning his sickly yellow eyes to the young smuggler, "You- You're hiding something, probably those jedi filth we've been looking for." it snarled, spit almost flying from the foul boy's lips as he uttered what was, perhaps, the most cringeworthy phrase he could must as a dark side adept.
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[Korvis Laerann]

Location: Kal'Shebbol, Kathol Sector, Trition Trade Route
Tag: Haytham Marr

And so it was . . .

One thing was certain, the Sith really had a way about putting a damper on anything, and in this case, they’d stopped his operation right in its tracks. What was supposed to have been a quick and simple delivery, looked now to be a bit more complex.

While this was a bit of a bump in the road on his journey, so to speak, it wasn’t as if he was totally unprepared for this kind of thing. After all, he wasn’t a rookie anymore and as disreputable as it may have been, running with the Black Sun Cartel in the past had taught him a thing or two about unexpected and unannounced checkpoints. Unjustified searches and seizures. Scenarios such as the one he currently found himself in.

His hands rose in a non-threatening manner as the ramp descended, allowing a number of arms to be leveled in his direction and trained upon his figure. ‘Quite the extremes for something so simple as a routine customs checkpoint. What in the name of …’ The thought ended abruptly as a hand grasped the upper portion of his tricep and not so gently jerked him out of his ship, the Phoenix Reborn. “Hey!” He voiced raised, but not in a threatening way. “Easy now,” he said, “I’m coming.” He grimaced from the discomfort of the strength of the grip that held onto his arm. “No need for extremes here. Sheesh.”

Korvis was being jerked around at this point, likely a show of power and station from men that clearly thought themselves for above the common rabble with which he tended to hang with. In the flurry of motion, his eyes briefly passed over the form of a sickly, pale and menacing individual that tailed another group of armored individuals that set forth to inspect his ship. The gruesome individual was obviously not like the rest and Korvis could only assume he was the leader of this ill-tempered concerto of people.

Mere moments later, Korvis found himself face to face with a couple of men dressed in more formal uniforms than the armor forms of the troopers that had already stormed aboard his ship. Officers, no doubt. As the man began to introduce himself, this Lieutenant Barrar, and usher forth a plethora of overly rehearsed commands, Korvis didn’t move. He dare not make any movements that could be seen as aggressive or threatening, for if his gut feeling was correct, his welcome party were Sith themselves, or at least served the Sith type. He had enough self-preservation instinct to not act rashly and find himself at the business end of a blaster. Or worse, a lightsaber. Neither spelled a pleasant end for him.

“It’s all on the datapad in my jacket,” he began, making sure to take in his surroundings and keep a wary eye on any movement around him. If they were to take the datapad from his jacket, they’d see a manifest for the delivery of three crates of cigaras and four barrels of liquor from Yesmireen, intended for a smaller settlement of the surface of Kal’Shebbol. The troopers searching his ship would find those items easily enough in the main cargo bay and Korvis hoped that’s where they’d stop. That way he might continue on his way and make his delivery as intended. What could also be found on the datapad would be the other documents the officer had requested. Although they weren’t entirely legit, the licenses and permits had been expertly forged during his time with the Black Sun Cartel, and he’d done his due diligence to ensure the dates and expirations remained valid. They’d worked the last eight times he’d been stopped by any sort of customs inspection at least. This would hopefully be no different.

Then as the officer was continuing into his next set of well-rehearsed orders, the less than pleasant, ghoul-like figure re-emerged, cutting him off mid sentence while requesting the retrieval of some Lord Marr. But then the Sith’s attention would unmistakably turn to Korvis, causing a wave of anguish and discomfort to envelop him as he spoke in an animal-like snarl.

To his bewilderment, the Sith mentioned something about harboring Jedi and smuggling them, which Korvis was completely oblivious to. While he didn’t exactly know what the contents were of the crate he’d tucked away into the smuggler’s compartment, he knew there was no way there were any Jedi in it. Well at least not any that were still alive and breathing. “Jedi?” Korvis began to question. “I’ll admit, I’ve flown my fair share of contraband and other illicit items in my, but never have I taken a Jedi.” He wasn’t exactly thinking as he spoke, but he hoped what he was saying wouldn’t have him killed. “Honestly,” he continued, “I couldn’t care less about that order of Force monks and hermits.”​

 

[Haytham Marr]

B L O C K A D E
TAGS - Korvis Laerann
LOCATION - Kal'Shebbol, Kathol Sector, Trition Trade Route

Without a word, the junior officer began to pat down the smuggler's torso, hands roaming into pockets in an altogether offensive manner, before finally yanking the datapad out and swiping through it. Judging by the unpleasant look on his face, or rather how it hadn't changed in the past five minutes, there wasn't anything to upset him.

Lieutenant Barrar just hummed, before promptly disappearing with two of the troopers, in perhaps the most pleased he'd been in the entirety of his very short interaction with Korvis.

Pressing an insolent finger into the smuggler's ribs, the adept seeming eager not to be forgotten or displaced, whilst a foul sneer split his nearly-decaying lips. "Do not think you can lie to me, boy," he spat, ironic given that he looked younger than the smuggler, in spite of his apparent abuse of the Dark Side shortening his life span to that of a fish. "I can taste the Force in that ship. If it were up to me, I'd gut you and jettison your ship for good measure."

A thrilling promise and oh so reassuring promise, coming from a Sith, who could always be taken at their word and trusted to act calmly and reasonably.

Korvis, fortunately, was saved from the adept's lethal dosage of edge by the arrival of a much more finely dressed individual, flanked by the Lieutenant and the two troopers. Though the man radiated the very same dark and twisted aura as the adept, if not a triply so, it was refined; a tamed power compared to the feral adept.

The new arrival raised his hand, and the adept begrudgingly fled to his heel in a manner not unlike a bloodhound being recalled by its master. "Stay." he ordered, stepping closer to the smuggler whilst the entourage remained behind, the junior officer handing the datapad over as he passed. Crimson eyes looked the smuggler up and down with a glint of mixed mirth and mystique.

"Do not mind the adept. His passion is admirable, but he lacks sophistication." he said, nobly, scrolling through the datapad absently. "As you may have guessed, I am Lord Marr. I'm told you're in possession of something which may interest me- Unless you would be so kind as to enlighten me, I would rather we wasted little time." the Lord said, perhaps a touch too bluntly for the aristocratic hints in his demeanour, handing back the datapad as he gestured to the ship's ramp.
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[Korvis Laerann]

Location: Kal'Shebbol, Kathol Sector, Trition Trade Route
Tag: Haytham Marr

Korvis didn’t give any response to the Sith Acolyte and the creature chided him, only giving a slight reflexive jump as the man’s finger poked at his ribs. At first it was merely a tickle, which triggered the reaction, but then it was more of a pain, as they stabbed more fiercely into their target. Thankfully, the insolent actions stopped as a far more eloquently dressed manned entered, with the same Lieutenant from early flanking him along with two troopers. The mere sight of things caused Korvis’ to wonder if he was really worth such the malevolent fanfare that he’d been afforded. He’d only been trying to run a job, not spark the interest of the Sith to such a degree that the Aristocrats would join in as well. By the way this Lord Marr was dressed, he could only assume that he sat upon some sort of aristocratic pedestal.

As the man spoke, Korvis listened, though he’d show little to no emotion in response. He didn’t want to give anyone here anything to suspect him over or further peak undesired attention. All the while, he’d also strive to suppress his own aura with the Force as best as he could, though his training in such practices was severely lacking. After all, when he had fled the Jedi Order after just four years of being with them, he’d been nothing more than a padawan learner and an apprentice, and had done nothing in the years since to train in any aspect of the Force. He’d likely struggle to even perform the most basic of Force abilities now with how neglected such training had been.

“Honestly, Lord Marr,” he began, himself carrying with it no distinct signs of deception, “unless your interest are in cheap cigaras and liquor, I’m not sure I’d have anything that would be of interest to yourself.” His mind flashed briefly to the crate that had been hidden away into one of the smuggling compartments on the Phoenix Reborn wondering if that could have been the source with which drew the interest and ire of his present company. Thinking back, he did recall that he’d felt some kind of strange aura surrounding the package when he’d first brought it on board. As he was certainly not as in tune with his senses as one so heavily trained and proficient in the Force.

‘Kriff this,’ he decided as his thoughts drifted inwardly to himself. ‘No amount of credits is worth my life.’ He shifted uncomfortably for a moment before speaking again, knowing all too well based on reputation alone, that these next words could very well be the last he ever got to speak. “There is something else,” he started, a wave of anxiety starting to wash over him. “There’s a package I’m supposed to deliver to a drop point for an anonymous buyer. I can’t tell you what’s inside it, because I don’t know,” he continued, “but I can say that it was accompanied by a lot of credits.” He let forth a sigh before continuing further. “Perhaps you’ll spare me my life if I take you right to it?”​

 

[Haytham Marr]

B L O C K A D E
TAGS - Korvis Laerann
LOCATION - Kal'Shebbol, Kathol Sector, Trition Trade Route

Deception and deceit.

Haytham was no master of the finer arts of the Force, his proficiency being in the blade and the utility of the Force. Still, he was not so clueless that he could not detect when something was being hidden from him. The teachings of his own master and lord, Darth Helonus, called to him. Wisdom he never asked for, yet was continually provided with;

-Like removing a mountain and replacing it with a sinkhole-

Wisdom that, without mastery, only confirmed his suspicions; useless as that was. Fortunately, the smuggler began confessing out of some sudden sense of self-preservation, if Haytham had to guess. A wry smirk pricked the Sith's face at the mention of the goods. "Your compliance and your honesty are admirable, Mr Laerann. You have no reason to be afraid, your death would be an unpleasant burden and is, most assuredly, not worth the effort." he remarked.

Taking the initiative and leading the way towards the ship, boots clinking against the metal ramp, he took a step back and gestured for the smuggler to take the lead. "You might receive better treatment if you provide us with the drop point for this package." he stated, hintingly.
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[Korvis Laerann]

Location: Kal'Shebbol, Kathol Sector, Trition Trade Route
Tag: Haytham Marr

As the Sith Lord, Haytham Marr, spoke, Korvis listened, though the wave of anxiety that had previously washed over him did not move on. Not even with the Sith’s assurance that taking his life would be more trouble than it would be worth. Though those words were a blow to the Adumari smuggler’s pride, he would refuse to challenge them as there was a time and a place for everything, and this was simply neither. Even as this Lord Marr stepped forward, his stride taking him toward the Phoenix Reborn, the familiar sounds of boots clanking upon the metallic ramp resonating in the vicinity, Korvis remained frozen. He refused to budge or give any way for one to consider his actions hostile.

Everything he’d been taught of the Sith, marked them as cruel, vicious minded people that reveled in cruelty and murder was but a right of passage among them. However, this one seemed different from those stories and teachings that had been levied upon him in the past. The younger acolyte better fit such descriptions, sure, but not his Master. Not Lord Marr; the man seemed calm and composed, with a mind for critical thought and logical reasoning. Very much counter to what he had been led to believe.

As Lord Marr waved for Korvis to lead, Korvis took a careful step forward. Then another. And another. Soon he would have reached the leader of this undesirable collection of men, with which he would then pass by. And with a simple nod, in response to the Sith Lord, would affirm that he would lead the man to where the crate in question had been stored earlier. Kneeling, he grabbed a panel on the floor and lifted, then sliding the panel carefully over. Inside the previously hidden compartment lay the single unmarked crate, black as obsidian. It seemed polished and new, without so much as a visible scratch upon its surface. There was no lock, nor visible apparatus on it so unlock and open it from. However, everytime Korvis found himself within this sort of proximity to it, it felt as if there were a thousand pairs of eyes watching from the shadows. Always there, but never seen. He hated the feeling, and therefore avoided the crate when he could.

“Not sure what you plan to do with it,” Korvis stated gruffly to the Sith Lord, “but I know I’ll be happy to be rid of it.” He let loose a short sigh before he continued. “You asked for the drop point,” he said, “I was simply given coordinates which point toward a small settlement in the Northern Hemisphere of Kal'Shebbol. About a hundred miles northwest from the capital or so.” He shifted uneasily as he awaited the Sith Lord’s response.

And ultimately, his fate. ​

 

[Haytham Marr]

B L O C K A D E
TAGS - Korvis Laerann
LOCATION - Kal'Shebbol, Kathol Sector, Trition Trade Route

Standing above the crate, the Sith Lord held out his hand, lifting the box up and cradling it with the Force. It took on a slow, carousel-like spin as Marr's crimson eyes focused on it, studying it. Looking for some hidden release within the crate, one only accessible with the Force, he'd open the crate; only if he could find one. The crate soon began floating over to the troopers standing at the base of the ramp, two of the black-clad soldiers slinging their carbines and taking up the onyx box.

Truthfully, Haytham was just as glad to be rid of it as the smuggler. It was an abomination better suited for Darth Helonus. Most bothersome was how the crate's absence did not shake the suspicion gnawing at the back of the Lord's mind, that lingering touch of the Force.

"That crate is the only item you're hiding from us, smuggler?" he said accusatorily, his ruby-red eyes stinging like the tip of a dagger when they were turned on Korvis. "You must admit... it is fairly convenient how you could scarcely know what was in that crate, and you were suspiciously eager to be rid of it..." the Lord pressed. Crossing his arms behind his back, he conveniently swept his robes back, showing off an intricately and expensively designed lightsaber hanging from his belt.

"One might even call it a diversion."

Lord Marr said nothing more, just watching the smuggler with the same inquisitive gaze as he had the crate.
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[Korvis Laerann]

Location: Kal'Shebbol, Kathol Sector, Trition Trade Route
Tag: Haytham Marr

Korvis simply watched as Lord Marr lifted the strange, obsidian-like crate from the compartment beneath the floorboard, spinning it ever so skillfully with the delicate caress of the Force. Black as night, the package screamed of foul omens and malevolent deeds, yet seemed so harmless once one peeled away the layers of unease that radiated forth from it. The thousand pairs of eyes never blinking and forever locked upon all. A cold shiver crawled down Korvis’ spine, digging tendrils in as deep as they would go, the physical discomfort painting a brief grimace over his face, before being quickly wiped away and composure achieved once more.

Lord Marr was correct in the words he spoke; the situation was far too convenient. And for a moment the young Adumari man didn’t know how he’d even begin to explain. However, a moment later, he’d collected his thoughts and with them his words. “I beg your pardon, sir,” Korvis began, the inclination of the Sith’s particular use of the word ‘diversion’ weighing on him. “I have nothing to divert you from.” In a sense, those words were very true. He didn’t exactly think himself to be an individual of much interest to any such authority. And as far as the cargo, there was nothing else to be shown. The only cargo aboard was the liquor, the cigaras, and this unusual crate. “I’m just a man trying to make my way in the galaxy. I take jobs where I can find them,” he raised an eyebrow briefly and studied any reaction from the Sith before him. “Typically no questions asked. Especially if the pay is right. And well, the delivery of this,” he paused a moment trying to pull a particular word from the air, yet couldn’t find it, “well whatever this thing is, offered quite the payout.” He loosened his posture a little now. “And you ask why I’m so willing to part with this thing? For one, my life is more valuable to me than any amount of credits. And two, the thing just gives me the creeps whenever I’m around it.” He shot a glance over to the crate and then back to Lord Marr. “Surely you felt it too? Being a Sith and all, right?”​

 

[Haytham Marr]

B L O C K A D E
TAGS - Korvis Laerann
LOCATION - Kal'Shebbol, Kathol Sector, Trition Trade Route

"And that is your final answer?"

A rhetorical question if ever there was any, the time for admission and absolution was past. Each lie, each deception, was made without the promise of forgiveness, of leniency. Such a notion having ever existed was, simply put, a terrible falsehood in and of itself, for Lord Marr never had any intent to spare Korvis, to honour his own word and treat the young man with any degree of leniency for his honesty.

No, the calm and reasonable demeanour of the middle-aged Sith was far more likely to result in the smuggler's death. This was a fact that, in due time, would become increasingly apparent to all involved; though he appeared kinder, perhaps more merciful, than the spitting and sputtering neophyte, to disregard that he was, at his core, a man so well-versed in the philosophy and goals of the Sith, so indentured in service to their creed and their aspirations, that the dark fire deep within his heart burnt so cold that he had earned a distinction from his former brethren amongst the Sith Knights, that he had been made a Lord amongst the gifted and the blessed?

Forgetting that key fact had been the heel of many a greater man than Korvis.

"You will deliver a crate, empty save for cheap paraphernalia and a tracking beacon, to the drop point." Marr said, bluntly, his soft and cordial expressing giving way to the cold and calculating man beneath. "You will then return to this ship, and remain under a pseudo-house arrest till I see fit to call upon you to chase down your buyers."

As he spoke, the troopers carried away that obsidian crate, being joined by an armed escort as a similar pair brought a similarly dark, yet obviously less ominous crate aboard. It clunked in a most... brutal manner as the troopers dumped it onto the cargo bay floor. "If these terms seem unreasonable to you, then I have other methods of weeding out your deceit that you may find to be most incongruous with a healthy and prolonged life." he said with a voice that, with no stretch of the imagination, could belong to any cunning and decisive admiral or general, yet was burdened with the cruelty and veiled threats of the Sith. "Do not think to insult me with another word, another sentence, another thought that professes your innocence or honesty, either. You forget that I am Sith, that I am not so easily fooled by charisma and hope as your average customs officer."

"Most certainly do not forget that, while you value your life more than any sum of credits, I would only need focus a touch too intently on your death, and it would be as unpreventable as the Sunset."

Calling this change a sudden shock was like saying that Tatooine was dry; correct, but severely lacking in severity.

"So, I suggest you accept my generosity, and tell that droid of yours to chart a course. Best if you don't have second thoughts, either; the gunnery crew can always use with a live-fire drill."
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