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Faction There Is No Slavery in Bái Sēn: Part II | Covert Operation | [Veridia] Farworlds Alliance


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PART II

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Farworlds Alliance • Refuge • Respite • Veridia​


​

The Farworlds Alliance has agreed to answer Bái Sēn's hidden plea. Beneath the city's towering walls, forged sentences and inherited debts conceal a trade in living beings, protected by law and enforced by Daimyo Kuroda Renji's magistrates and sworn retainers.

Now, alongside Zetsumei No Tenshi Zetsumei No Tenshi and his network of shinobi, covert teams slip into Veridia beneath the cover of darkness. Alliance insignia remain hidden, weapons are concealed beneath local dress, and unfamiliar faces travel in small groups along routes chosen to avoid official scrutiny. Every precaution has been taken to pass among Veridia's merchants, laborers, pilgrims, and wandering retainers without drawing the attention of Bái Sēn's watchful authorities.

Their mission is clear: seize the records, locate the imprisoned, and drag the truth into the open before the warlord can bury it beneath ash and silence.

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OBJECTIVE ONE: THE CONTRACT REGISTRY

Rain smothered Bái Sēn beneath a silver-gray haze, spilling from tiled roofs and flooding the narrow lanes between shuttered shops. Lanterns burned weakly behind paper screens while patrols moved beneath lacquered umbrellas, their armor softly clicking between the steady hiss of rainfall. Above the sleeping market district, the contract registry stood sealed behind iron-banded doors, its upper windows glowing through the downpour. Somewhere inside waited the records of every life bought beneath the language of law.

OBJECTIVE TWO: THE LABOR COMPOUND

Beyond the city walls, the road dissolved into black mud beneath the prisoners’ compound. Watchfires guttered within stone braziers, leaving the fences and guard towers half-swallowed by rain. Huddled figures shifted behind barred windows as water streamed down the walls around them. The storm concealed approaching footsteps, yet it also masked the movements of guards and whatever orders had already begun passing through the compound.

OBJECTIVE THREE: INDEPENDENT OPERATIONS

Elsewhere, Bái Sēn breathed beneath curfew. Shinobi crossed rain-slick rooftops, informants waited within unmarked teahouses, and armed retainers searched the streets beneath swaying lanterns. Every alley offered concealment; every doorway might hide a witness, an ambush, or a frightened family listening for boots outside. Across the darkened city, separate missions began beneath the same relentless rain.


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WAYS TO JOIN​



Objective One

Secure the Evidence


Infiltrate the contract registry, verify Zetsumie's intelligence, and steal or copy the original records before they can be destroyed.



Objective Two

Limited Rescue / Recon


Investigate the labor compound, confirm who is being held, and extract a small number of prisoners or witnesses facing immediate danger.



Objective Three

Bring Your Own Objective


Pursue another goal suited to the operation: sabotage defenses, gather local intelligence, protect civilians, intercept reinforcements, or support either covert team.






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Thread Note: This is a focused covert operation on Veridia, following the decision reached in There Is No Slavery in Bái Sēn. Participants may pursue one of the listed objectives or propose another goal suited to the mission.

Faction members, allies, local resistance characters, investigators, scouts, relief workers, and other appropriate participants are welcome. Characters openly aligned with Daimyo Kuroda Renji, known war criminals, or major hostile figures should contact the thread DM before joining.

The thread DM, Voice of Hope Voice of Hope , will portray and manage the general opposition, Veridian officials, prisoners, guards, and environmental complications. Please check with the DM before introducing personal NPCs who hold authority within Bái Sēn, command enemy forces, possess critical intelligence, or could significantly alter the outcome of an objective.
​

 


Above the sleeping market district, the contract registry stood sealed behind iron-banded doors, its upper windows glowing through the downpour. Somewhere inside waited the records of every life bought beneath the language of law.

Seven stood in a dark nook of an alleyway with her hood up, letting the natural darkness of the storm hide her presence for the time being. She looked on at the Contract Registry, her radiant eyes trained on it's intricately designed door. Having been a slave to the will of the darkside she detested its practice. It was what had given Kalrath free reign to tear her apart and build her into something...

Unnatural. To that end, she had been more than happy to assist the Farworlds in their mission. Anything to help her become a good person...


"Eyes on the target," she relayed over her communicator. "Where are the rest of you at?"

The rain would help them a lot. The cover of darkness was already their friend. The cold would numb the senses of their enemies, offering them an edge. It was something that shouldn't make them get sloppy, though. After all...

Nothing ever came for free.


 

Laphisto

High Commander of the Lilaste Order
Laphisto had opted to get a little more hands-on with this particular operation. When the Assembly had laid out its plan, to say he had been displeased with the chosen approach would have been an understatement. He still favored something far more direct: a planetary assault, the rapid capture of Bái Sēn, and the systematic dismantling of its guard before they had time to understand what was happening, let alone organize a meaningful defense.

But the Alliance had chosen another path. Orders were orders. Laphisto did not have to like the plan to follow it. So rather than remain behind and grumble over decisions already made, the old warrior volunteered for the labor compound. If the operation demanded restraint, then he would give them restraint, though perhaps not quite in the manner Bái Sēn's guards might have preferred.

He kept his insertion team deliberately small. Commander Tarain accompanied him alongside five members of the High Guard. Seven soldiers in total, himself included. More than enough manpower for reconnaissance and the extraction of a handful of prisoners, but small enough that they could move without announcing the Lilaste Order's presence to every guard within a kilometer. Laphisto had initially intended to leave it at that. Then he learned that Novac Lyrikal Novac Lyrikal had been assigned to the same mission. That had changed matters somewhat.

Months earlier, when the Red Fever had torn through Aurora Station, Novac had played a crucial role in helping save Laphisto's people. The Jedi had offered his aid when the Order needed it, and Laphisto had not forgotten the kindness. Joining him here offered an opportunity to repay at least some portion of that debt.

Rain rolled from the edges of Laphisto's cloak as the small team moved through the darkness beyond Bái Sēn's walls, keeping off the main road where possible. Mud pulled at their boots while the storm swallowed the sound of their approach. Somewhere ahead, watchfires flickered weakly through the downpour, marking the perimeter of the labor compound.

Laphisto slowed as the first silhouettes of the guard towers became visible through the rain. His gaze remained fixed upon the compound ahead as he spoke quietly to those accompanying him. "Remember why we're here. We confirm who they're holding, determine the strength of the compound, and get anyone in immediate danger out." There was a brief pause. His hand settled against the weapon concealed beneath his cloak. "And if the guards decide they would rather make that difficult, then we'll adjust accordingly."
 

Saram Kote

Strill Securities Al'verde

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Friendly Units:
Squad Mission Equipment




Tag(s): 0-7 0-7 | Open

Saram's Equipment




OBJECTIVE ONE​

"6 to Prudii Rekr 1-1, any sign of him yet," she asked over long-range frequency hopping encrypted comms to Spar Kyrdol, alor'ad of the stealth corvette in orbit in support of their operation, combing the planet for any signs of Zetsumei No Tenshi Zetsumei No Tenshi 's unique lifeform signature and presence in the force with its own sensors and that of its recon drones. The alor had given them strict instructions that they were to ascertain his whereabouts before the operation began.

Saram and Davaab held position a short distance from their target; the record storage site. They used the conditions to their advantage, sticking to the dark, long shadows where their beskar'gam's 'Ori'akar' Personal Cloaking Device functioned best, effortlessly hiding them from view across the electromagnetic spectrum. Not that these shabuire had anything even remotely capable of keeping up with modern stealth technology.

"Elek, 6, he's been picked up not far from your position near the prisoner storage facilities, we're watching him now," came the reply, all matter-of-fact from Spar through her buy'ce's speakers. Jate, close enough to respond if they had to. Despite the weather's attempt to do the opposite, this set a positive tone for the operation. She had a good feeling about this that she dared not give voice.

0-7 0-7 's voice filled her buy'ce a moment later. "Davaab 6, we're in position. We'll move once everyone's in position?" she asked, glancing at the tacmap in the corner of her HUD, the few green markers representing friendly contacts and the sea of red representing hostile contacts with only a few yellow ones representing unknown or neutral contacts. .

 
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❀ OBJECTIVE ONE ❀
Infiltrate the Contract Registry • Locate and secure evidence of the forced labor system • Remain undetected

0-7 0-7 • Saram Kote Saram Kote

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In the absence of his master, Zetsumei No Tenshi Zetsumei No Tenshi , the pale Shinobi had accompanied the outlanders, leading them through Bái Sēn to their target.

Night had quieted the district considerably, but it had not left the Contract Registry undefended. Lanterns burned beneath the eaves and beside the iron-bound entrance, casting broad pools of light across the rain-darkened street. Guards remained posted at the doors, while others patrolled the perimeter at regular intervals.

The documents they sought were somewhere within, protected behind stone, iron, and men who had every reason to keep strangers away.

The Shinobi settled into the shelter of the neighboring rooftops, studying the patrols below before turning his attention toward the outlanders.

"That is it."

His gaze returned to the Registry.

"We need what is inside without anyone knowing we were here."

 


✦ OBJECTIVE TWO ✦
Recon the labor compound • Identify prisoners and witnesses • Extract those in immediate danger

Laphisto Laphisto Saram Kote Saram Kote

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Zetsumeie had entered the labor compound well ahead of the others. At least, that was what he had told them he would do: scout the interior, count the guards, and find a clean path to the pirsoner cells for the out-landers.

All of that was true.

He'd found a route capable of bringing all seven members of Laphisto Laphisto 's crew through without crossing the main watch. A narrow drainage channel carried runoff beneath the outer wall, emerging behind an old storage building where the nearest tower's view was broken by the sloping roof. From there, a covered service walk followed the rear of the compound, passing behind the barracks before reaching a stairwell into the upper cell block.

Two patrols crossed the route, but neither remained long. There were gaps enough between them for a careful group to slip through.

Zetsumeie had marked the way for those following and timed it perfectly...

It simply was not the whole truth.

He moved along the upper walkways without sound, passing barred windows one after another, his attention lingering upon every face visible within... He was looking for someone.
 

"Davaab 6, we're in position. We'll move once everyone's in position?"

"Copy..." Seven answered.

This was much stranger working with a group of people. She was always on her own for these sorts of operations.


The Shinobi settled into the shelter of the neighboring rooftops, studying the patrols below before turning his attention toward the outlanders.

"That is it."

His gaze returned to the Registry.

"We need what is inside without anyone knowing we were here."

"Any liabilities in their patrol patterns?" the Evereni asked.

Of course, that would be what she would be looking for. A moment when their guard might slip. Perhaps a changing of the scheduled, or a location that they preferred not to patrol regularly for one reason or another. Because the alternative was to make an entrance, which typically came down to subduing someone and hiding the body. Seven was fully capable of doing so, but...

She'd much rather not.


 

Saram Kote

Strill Securities Al'verde

Strill-Logo.png

​
Friendly Units:
Squad Mission Equipment




Tag(s): 0-7 0-7 | Open

Saram's Equipment




OBJECTIVE ONE​

"Any liabilities in their patrol patterns?" the Evereni asked.

"We could just slip past them," she suggested over the comms . "I doubt their detection tech is that advanced." Ah, the benefits of having worked with people before. She knew Seven had a few tricks up her sleeve in that regard. She was confident that between herself, Davaab and their local guide they could easily slip past the patrols with little effort. "And if they do, well, leave it to us. I doubt any of us are going to lose any sleep over it," she added, referring to her and her squad.

"Haven't seen any signs of it if its there, alor," chimed in Ran for confirmation of her assertion over the squad comms. "And lose sleep, over slaving shabuire like this? Not a chance in haran." Not that she doubted this before, but that was confirmation of the Ran's feeling's on the matter if she ever needed it. Not that she thought it would really come to that either. She very much doubted that they had that tech in the first place.

"The real problem is going to come when we need to get into the place, but I have a few ideas about that too," she added over the comms.

 

Laphisto

High Commander of the Lilaste Order
The drainage channel was cramped, filthy, and filling quickly beneath the storm. Water rushed around Laphisto's taloned feet as he worked his way beneath the outer wall, one hand occasionally catching the stone beside him when the mud shifted underfoot. His wings remained drawn tightly against his back to keep them from scraping against the narrow walls, while his tail trailed low through the runoff behind him. Tarain followed several paces back with the High Guard strung out behind him, each soldier keeping enough distance from the next that one misstep wouldn't bring the entire column down. Between the pounding rain and the water spilling through the channel, there was little chance of anyone above hearing their passage.

Zetsumeie's route had proven sound. Laphisto emerged behind the storage building and immediately lowered himself, keeping his wings tucked close as he peered around the corner. The nearest tower stood partially obscured by the sloping roof, just as their scout had indicated, while the covered service walk offered another stretch of concealment farther ahead. A pair of guards crossed through the rain beyond it, talking between themselves as they hurried toward shelter. Laphisto watched until both disappeared behind the barracks before lifting two fingers toward Tarain.

The Commander took over from there without needing further instruction. Two of the High Guard crossed first, followed by another pair once the walkway was clear, their movements timed between the patrols Zetsumeie had already identified. Laphisto waited beside the storage building until the fifth soldier had crossed, his gaze occasionally lifting toward the watchtower above them. When the sentry turned away, he slipped across the open ground himself, his talons sinking briefly into the wet earth before finding firmer purchase beneath the covered walk.

"Keep our people together," Laphisto murmured once Tarain joined him, his attention remaining on the stairwell ahead. "No shooting unless we're compromised. If something goes wrong, we leave the same way we came." Tarain gave a quiet acknowledgment before motioning the others onward.

They reached the upper cell block without raising an alarm. Laphisto slowed at the top of the stairs, allowing Tarain and two of the High Guard to move past while he took in the corridor ahead. Rain blew through the open portions of the walkway, carrying water across the floor and pooling along the edges. Barred windows ran along one side, offering brief glimpses of the prisoners beyond whenever the weak compound lights reached them. Some shifted at the sight of movement outside. Others remained where they were.

Laphisto stopped beside one of the windows and looked inside. His hand rested against the wall while his eyes adjusted to the darker interior, taking in the number of occupants and their apparent condition before he moved on. At the next cell, he repeated the process. He made no attempt to open anything yet. They still needed numbers, locations, and a clear understanding of what waited between the prisoners and the drainage channel before they started pulling people out. A few cells farther down, his attention shifted toward Zetsumeie.

The route had been marked. The patrols had been accounted for. Seven armed intruders had crossed the compound and reached the cells without so much as a shout from the watchtowers. Yet Zetsumeie continued along the barred windows, his attention passing over the prisoners within each one before he moved on to the next. Laphisto watched him do it twice more. it was clear the man was searching for some one specific. though who wasnt apart of his mission to queshtion. nor was it any of his business.

Zetsumei No Tenshi Zetsumei No Tenshi
 

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At the Registry, the night's routine finally shifted. A covered transport rolled beneath the awning and stopped beside the main entrance, delivering a weary clerk beneath the escort of two armed guards. One carried a sealed case tucked close against his side while the other keyed the doors open, spilling warm interior light across the rain-slick street. For several minutes the Registry stood open as identification was checked and the small party was admitted, creating the first clean opportunity to slip inside before the doors sealed again and the patrol resumed.

Across the district, movement began within the labor compound. Guards started rousing selected prisoners and directing them toward a secured holding area while manifests changed hands near the lower yard; a transport was being prepared for departure before dawn. Whatever names were written upon those pages, some of the prisoners would not be here much longer. Outside, the rain continued to hammer the rooftops and pour into the drainage system beneath the walls, the water steadily climbing through the same narrow channel the infiltrators had used to enter.
​
 

Saram Kote

Strill Securities Al'verde

Strill-Logo.png

​
Friendly Units:
Squad Mission Equipment




Tag(s): 0-7 0-7 | Voice of Hope Voice of Hope | Open

Saram's Equipment




OBJECTIVE ONE​

"Lenedat!" came the call over squad comms from Viraen as the unmistakeable covered trasnsport rolled in. Bleeding edge detection, targeting and tracking systems instandly picked up the people on board and the transport itself. Red outlined hosties were outlined on their HUDs as the transprot drew nearer.

"That's our ticket in," whispered Saram squad comms. "The moment that door opens, we're in." She placed nav markers via the battlenet ordering Anila, Vikhar and Rusana to move with her while the other four stayed here to cover them in case the shooting started, not that they would need it. She very much doubted the Veridians had anything that would go threough their armor, let alone their shields if it came down to that.

"In our out?" she asked over team comms, this one including 0-7 0-7 . By the time she had finished her sentencem, Saram and the three rammikade with her had taken up positions around the entrance of the building, cloaked. Rather than leave muddy bootprints behind, they glided over the sections where there as no solid path beneath their boots using the near silent repulsor functions in their boots. Near silent, but certainly nothing that would be audble in this weather.

Their augmentted raction times meant that the few minutes that it took for them to open the building and bring the records in, Saram and the four rammikadr with her were already in. This was far from the first time that Saram and her fireteam of Davaab squad rammikade had done this, they kept their distance from the others in the room and away from direct light sources, the movements of the Veridians in the room feeling painfully slow to their exponentially faster, augmented senses, reflexes and information processing.

"We're in," reported Saram over team comms. "We'll go on your go," she added. The door was still open, they hadn't done whatever it was they had come here to do yet, but Seven's window to get in without raising haran was likely closing fast. Then again, the only likley way for them to get out without doing the same themselves was going to be know these Veridians out and take the keys from them. Soon it would be time to have some fun.
 

"In our out?"

"I'll follow," Seven stated.

She was interested in Saram. The woman was very experienced, clearly more than she was. After what had transpired on New Cov, she found herself wanting to... prove herself? It was hard to explain. That moment of weakness was not befitting of her, and yet she had let it show in front of the Mandalorian warrior. That day still ate at her core. She didn't want anyone to ever see her like that again.

It was a foolish notion, but perhaps a display of her talent could make that weakness a forgotten memory.


"We'll go on your go," she added. The door was still open, they hadn't done whatever it was they had come here to do yet, but Seven's window to get in without raising haran was likely closing fast. Then again, the only likley way for them to get out without doing the same themselves was going to be know these Veridians out and take the keys from them. Soon it would be time to have some fun.

Seven didn't respond. She simply made herself unseen by the eye and moved to close the gap. It wouldn't matter if anyone came by, given that she was not visible. Even so, she moved with purpose and very quickly moved in to join Saram and her warriors. After a moment, she spoke.

"I am with you," Seven relayed, her voice nearby, "I will stay close."

She'd just do so out of sight. The way she preferred it.


 

Saram Kote

Strill Securities Al'verde

Strill-Logo.png

​
Friendly Units:
Squad Mission Equipment




Tag(s): 0-7 0-7 | Voice of Hope Voice of Hope | Open

Saram's Equipment




OBJECTIVE ONE​

"Alright, then I've got a dini'la plan that just might work," she transmitted back to 0-7 0-7 . "Just follow my lead and go with it," she added. Without missing a beat, Saram marked the clerk's guard detail to be eliminated. Almost instantly, Verpine Shatter weaons discharged silently, bodies were caught, but no sooner than Saram had snuck behind the clerk and covered the clerk's mouth with one hand, kucklplate vibroblade from the other hand held point first under the man's jaw. Saram held it close enough to draw the slightest trickle of blood.

"Move anyway I don't like, I'll kill you. Scream, and I'll kill you. Try to activate an alarm or security system, and I'll kill you. Lie to me, and I'll know, and guess what, I'll kill you," she whispered quietly. "Take us to the records. Now." Saram gave it a moment for the clerk to process what she said. She loosened her stance to allow the clerk to start walking in the direction of the records. "Rusana, stay here, if those guards twitch, shoot them," she ordered. The green outline of the invisible form of Rusana moved into position, her weapon staying at a low alert carry, ready to snap up at her discretion at a moment's notice.
 

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0-7 0-7 Saram Kote Saram Kote Masao Masao Laphisto Laphisto Zetsumei No Tenshi Zetsumei No Tenshi Novac Lyrikal Novac Lyrikal


OBJECTIVE ONE — THE CONTRACT REGISTRY[/CENTER]

The clerk understood what Saram Kote Saram Kote wanted almost immediately, despite whatever difficulty the language barrier may have otherwise presented to the Veridian. There were some intentions conveyed through body language alone, and with Saram's hand firm upon him and the bodies of the fallen guards close enough to make the consequences of acting against her plain, that steady pressure directing his attention deeper into the Registry carried the meaning cleanly enough. His eyes widened in terror before darting toward the corridor beyond them, measuring the distance and whatever small chance remained of surviving the next few minutes.

A hard swallow tightened his throat before he offered the faintest nod, careful that no sudden movement might be mistaken for resistance. Whatever thoughts occurred to him remained silenced. Slowly, yet deliberately, the clerk raised both hands where Saram could see them and turned toward the interior passage, choosing compliance with the silent urgency of a man who understood precisely what this was and how little room had been left for misunderstanding.

He led them away from the public-facing offices and deeper into the Registry, where polished counters and orderly shelves gave way to narrower halls, heavier doors, and records plainly intended for a far smaller circle of eyes. The architecture itself seemed to change with the purpose of the place; warm wood surrendered to stone, brass placards to stamped numbers, and the pleasant fiction of bureaucracy to something colder and more deliberate. Here, contracts were catalogued by district, debt class, family line, and identification number, each cabinet fitted with its own lock and each aisle arranged with the meticulous care of people who understood the value of keeping certain truths difficult to reach.

The clerk slowed near an iron gate set across the end of the corridor, glancing first toward Saram and then toward a small mechanism built into the wall beside it. A keyway sat beneath a narrow indicator panel whose amber light remained steady, while somewhere behind the stone came the faint mechanical pulse of a security circuit passing through the building.

The clerk's hands remained raised.

"This," he said carefully, his accent thick but the word clear enough, "restricted."

One finger drifted toward the lock before stopping short, caution tightening every line of him.

Nearby, upon a sorting table, rested the sealed case the second clerk had carried in before the confrontation began. Unlike the ordinary files stacked around it, this one bore three separate impressions in dark wax: the Registry seal, the mark of a magistrate's office, and a third crest belonging to neither.

OBJECTIVE TWO — THE LABOR COMPOUND​

By the time movement began in the lower yard, Zetsumei No Tenshi Zetsumei No Tenshi 's search appeared to have finally borne fruit.

One of the upper cells stood open now, its lock disturbed by the precise work of small tools, and from within emerged a gaunt man whose condition spoke more clearly than any prison record could have. Long, unkempt Payne-gray hair clung damply around a hollow face, his frame reduced by confinement and poor treatment until the prison clothes hung loosely from his shoulders. Whatever history existed between him and Zetsumei, recognition seemed to pass through Kodora's expression almost at once.

A strip of heavy black cloth was offered up against the rain, broad enough to draw over Kodora's head and shoulders, while a sash gave him something firmer around which to gather himself as he stepped free of the cell.

Kodora drew the cloth close, one thin hand clutching it beneath his chin.

"You came..."

His voice carried little farther than the cell door.

Zetsumei steadied him with one hand, his attention passing briefly over the damage confinement had done before settling back upon Kodora's face.

"Save your breath. You can thank me when we're home."

Elsewhere along the upper cell block, Laphisto Laphisto continued methodically through what remained of his reconnaissance, taking stock of considerably more than the faces behind the bars. He counted occupants and noted which prisoners appeared capable of moving under their own strength, which were injured or sick enough to require assistance, and which cells appeared to hold those in the worst condition. His attention tracked the heavier locks, narrow turns, stairwells, covered walkways, and every point where an extraction involving more than a handful of people might become bottlenecked. The route they had used to enter was measured against the growing runoff feeding the drainage channel, while the maintenance access, yard approaches, and any other usable path through the compound were quietly committed to memory. More importantly, Laphisto could begin distinguishing those who could survive another night here from those who plainly could not, giving him a much clearer picture of whom they would need to move first once the cell doors began opening.

Then boots struck the lower stairs.

The prisoners below were already being driven toward the yard as guards opened the holding area and chained them together in pairs beneath the rain. A transport waited with its rear doors open and engine running while an officer checked the manifest against the line.

"Seventeen."

A second guard looked over the prisoners and then back to the page in his hands.

"Sixteen here."

The officer's gaze lifted toward the upper cell block.

"Then find the seventeenth."

Two guards broke from the yard and started toward the cells, bringing them steadily closer to Laphisto Laphisto , Zetsumei, and Kodora with every passing second. At the same time, the transfer drew more personnel into the lower yard, thinning coverage elsewhere around the compound and opening new gaps along the perimeter.

The drainage channel continued to fill with runoff, while a maintenance gate beyond the laundry building and a utility vehicle near the kitchens offered cleaner possibilities for anyone watching closely enough to use them.

Near the prisoner line, Novac Lyrikal Novac Lyrikal could see an elderly woman struggling to remain upright while the prisoner chained beside her tried to carry some of her weight.

"She can't keep walking like this."

The nearest guard turned toward them with impatience already tightening his face.

"Then help her move."

A shout rose from beneath the overhang before the line could advance much farther.

"Found it. Seventeen's in isolation."

The officer stabbed a finger toward a squat stone building at the edge of the compound.

"Bring them out."

Three guards peeled away toward the isolation wing, one already drawing a ring of keys from his belt.

Up above, Kodora heard the approaching boots and went rigid beneath the black cloth, his attention fixing sharply on the corridor beyond them.

"They're coming."

The transfer had begun, the guard pattern was changing around it, and the upper cells had only moments before company arrived.

 

"Alright, then I've got a dini'la plan that just might work," she transmitted back to Seven . "Just follow my lead and go with it,"

Seven didn't verbally respond, but she did follow along in the shroud of her illusion. Unseen to the eye. As Saram made an effort to find and take the clerk hostage, the attention of the former assassin wandered. Her eyes glanced around, instinctively looking for security cameras or anything else of the like. This place was so low tech, it was a bit jarring. These people, they would not do so well against what the Alliance had, would they?

Would their leaders send them so eagerly into a war that would kill them?


"This," he said carefully, his accent thick but the word clear enough, "restricted."

One finger drifted toward the lock before stopping short, caution tightening every line of him.

Nearby, upon a sorting table, rested the sealed case the second clerk had carried in before the confrontation began. Unlike the ordinary files stacked around it, this one bore three separate impressions in dark wax: the Registry seal, the mark of a magistrate's office, and a third crest belonging to neither.

"We should grab everything," Seven relayed. "At the very least a lack of documentation will slow them down."

Give them another small crisis that could distract. It would allow them a bit more time to prepare if they were actually going to be making an effort to liberate this place. Seven could agree with those motivations, at least.

She hated chains.


 

Saram Kote

Strill Securities Al'verde

Strill-Logo.png

​
Friendly Units:
Squad Mission Equipment




Tag(s): 0-7 0-7 | Voice of Hope Voice of Hope | Open

Saram's Equipment




OBJECTIVE ONE​

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( Chaos_Cat Chaos_Cat very kindly provided this handy reference image.)

The room was expansive to say the least, Records stretched from end to end. How many people were being held by this regime? The pang of regret that came with havig done her job was replaced with the sureity of working ot remove a corrupt and depraved regime who prayed on people simply because they could, because it benefited them. There would be time for rage later, now it was time to act.

"We should grab everything," Seven relayed. "At the very least a lack of documentation will slow them down."

As Saram and the others walked into the records room, her eyes widening under her buy'ce. "Har-shabla-chaak, we're not getting all of that out of here, nor are we going to be able sort through any of this," she said over their team comms.

"Take us to the most recent records, political prisoners, anyone not an actual criminal," she said to the clerk, switching her armor's translator to whatever dialect they had on file that was closest to or even matched the one used on Veridia. She didn't know what that was herself, but thankfully she didn't have to, and she wasn't going to take a chance that he understood her basic twice.

"What's the plan, alor?" came the response from Vikhar over team comms, likely as soon he'd processed how this impacted their current situjation.

"We're not going to be able to move or even sort through all this before they notice this guy's taking too long," Anila added in a matter of fact manner of team comms, as if she was just announcing that the store had run out of Warra nuts.

"Rusana, pull the slugs from the bodies. Anila, we're going to burn this place down, get us a evac route through the roof," ordered Saram. Vikhar didn't need to be told what to do, his outline rendered on Saram's HUD dropped into a crouch as Anila readied a thermal well. Rusana's acknowledgement signal flashed in Saram's HUD, her outline showing her crouching beside the bodies of hte guards they had neutralized through the wall that was between them on her HUD.

"Think you can help me grab whatever we can get our hands on?" she asked 0-7 0-7 over team comms as she watched the Clerk though the corner of her HUD. Between the two of them they would ideally be able to in the very least ferry enough records back to be extracted out of this place. The thought had crossed her mind of using the guards' weapons, but that left more questions than it answered. This was the only way that didn't leave any trace of their involvement behind.
 
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PART II


Farworlds Alliance • Refuge • Respite • Veridia​


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OBJECTIVE ONE: THE CONTRACT REGISTRY

0-7 0-7 Saram Kote Saram Kote

The clerk seemed to understand her well enough as the doors to the massive record vault were opened before them. His gaze shifted toward the seemingly endless rows of shelves beyond the gate before returning to Saram, and after a moment he gave a small, uncertain nod.

"Which district?"

There was something almost puzzled in the question, as though the distinction she had made had done very little to narrow anything down.

Perhaps realizing how little help that answer offered, the clerk swallowed and hurried to elaborate before Saram could mistake his hesitation for unwillingness. One hand lifted cautiously toward the nearest rows of shelving.

"This Registry serves Seiran Prefecture," he explained, the words coming somewhat quicker now. "Each district has its own section. Families are kept beneath those... household records arranged by year."

His gaze shifted briefly toward the bodies behind them before returning to Saram.

"Bái Sēn is the prefectural's... seat."

Another swallow followed.

"The other prefectures maintain their own Registries."

That answer carried considerably more weight than the clerk appeared willing to linger upon. The immense vault surrounding them represented only the records of Seiran Prefecture, one portion of the territory administered beneath Kuroda Renji's authority rather than the entirety of it.

"Charges and sentences are entered as they were issued," the clerk continued. "Transfers remain with the household record. Anything inherited remains there as well."

There was no separate designation for political prisoners, nor some exceptional collection set apart from the rest. Whatever crime had been placed upon the original sentence was how the Registry remembered them. The records stretched backward through household after household beneath the same orderly system, while the sheer breadth of shelving made increasingly plain how little Saram's original distinction had actually narrowed the search.
 

As Saram and the others walked into the records room, her eyes widening under her buy'ce. "Har-shabla-chaak, we're not getting all of that out of here, nor are we going to be able sort through any of this,"

"No kidding..." Seven muttered.

They were far more expansive then she could have imagined. They didn't have the man power or time to take care of that, what with the rain ramping up. They needed to make sure that papers didn't get wet as it was.


"Charges and sentences are entered as they were issued," the clerk continued. "Transfers remain with the household record. Anything inherited remains there as well."

Seven took in those words as she walked. Inherited. People inherited the crimes of their households. Punishment that lasted generations. Why did it even matter what it was called if a fifth generation man could serve out the crime of his several times over grandparents? There was no subtlety about it. Slavery in it's truest, most brutal form. It made Seven angry. After all...

That was the only life she had ever known. It made her next suggestion roll off the tongue easily.

"Remove the records of crimes and their system will begin to fray," she stated. "It should be destroyed. There's enough cover that rain won't snuff fire quickly."

A straight forward ask: burn it all to the ground.


 

Saram Kote

Strill Securities Al'verde

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Friendly Units:
Squad Mission Equipment




Tag(s): 0-7 0-7 | Voice of Hope Voice of Hope | Open

Saram's Equipment




OBJECTIVE ONE​

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"Which district?"

Saram didn't like the sound of the way he said that. Which district? How many people did they have under slavery, how long had they been doing this. He was only a cog in the system, but har'chaak she very much wanted to shoot him in the head right now. It ook effort to keep from reflexiverly doing just that.

"This Registry serves Seiran Prefecture," he explained, the words coming somewhat quicker now. "Each district has its own section. Families are kept beneath those... household records arranged by year."

His gaze shifted briefly toward the bodies behind them before returning to Saram.

"Bái Sēn is the prefectural's... seat."

Another swallow followed.

"The other prefectures maintain their own Registries."

That answer carried considerably more weight than the clerk appeared willing to linger upon. The immense vault surrounding them represented only the records of Seiran Prefecture, one portion of the territory administered beneath Kuroda Renji's authority rather than the entirety of it.

"Charges and sentences are entered as they were issued," the clerk continued. "Transfers remain with the household record. Anything inherited remains there as well."

Saram's eyes widened under her buy'ce. That many locations? Well, that just meant she'd have to convince the alor that there was merit in taking them all down eventually, or at least enough of them to where the regime no longer had a hold on these people. She understood that meant that the legitimate criminals would also go unpunished, but what was the option, let the many suffer for the crimes of the few? No way in haran.

She nodded, indicating to the man that she understood what he said, that was not an indication she liked it however.

"Remove the records of crimes and their system will begin to fray," she stated. "It should be destroyed. There's enough cover that rain won't snuff fire quickly."

"Can you do something to make sure he doesn't remember us or do I we sort this out the old fashioned way?" she asked 0-7 0-7 over team comms. "I need to know before we burn this place to the g round," she added, looking at the thermal well that Anila had set up. Anila had placed thermal well tape to cut a hole in the roof, giving them easy egress. "We're bugging out through the roof, stick by me, I'll give you a lift when we bug out," she said over team comms to 0-7.

 
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