Wrenarias
Well-Known Member
Four months after the Massacre of Duval Tower...
Three men were dead.
All of which were influential figures of the wealthy elite who once thought themselves snuggly impervious to consequences for their actions. They were men who abused those they deemed beneath them, corrupt and amoral individuals who thought themselves above the rest of the galaxy -- dealing in slaves, one way or another. Two of them pretended to adhere to anti-slavery laws, sidestepping the ineffective legislation through the use of indentured servitude contracts. Wren's name was still tied to such a contract, as were the women that made up her small squad.
It'd taken time for her to train the girl's how to properly use a blaster, but each of them proved to be a quick learner, with a skillset entirely her own. Jules had taken a quick liking to heavy weaponry, explosives, and hand-to-hand combat; Talival proved to be an excellent shot with a sniper rifle and was quickly learning the ropes when it came to hacking security locks; and Evesrete once made a living as a slicer before a slaver caught her. More importantly, however, all three felt as strongly about putting a quick and decisive end to the underground slave trade as Wren did.
Sometimes, violence really was the answer. Passivism could only accomplish so much in the face of such corruption and cruelty. Doing nothing left countless others vulnerable to falling victim to these monsters.
The man first to die had been Jakob Naviro, a Corellian businessman who worked closely with Hutts and Sadavir Duval. While on paper he worked as a courier and salesman; but what official databases failed to properly document was his work as a procurer of "legal" indentured servants. It seemed that with enough credits, any palm could be greased to look the other way. Unfortunately for him, he'd been relatively easy to reach, as most of his business was conducted at a headquarters on Nar Shaddaa. Each of the girls on Wrenarias' team, including herself, had passed through the doors of his warehouse at some point in their lives.
Jakob Naviro was found with a self-inflicted blaster wound to the head in his office. Oddly enough, his security cameras had been suffering a reoccurring malfunction for several days prior to his unexpected suicide.
A few weeks later, an associate of Naviro and Duval, Balo Kit, inexplicably flung himself off his balcony at his highrise apartment in Coruscant's Emerald district.
Roughly a month after Kit's demise, yet another wealthy CEO, Pascua, met an early death on Fresia -- found dead in his bedroom closet, apparently having accidentally strangled himself to death with his own belt via auto-erotic asphyxiation.
Rumors abounded, swirling through the Core in a maelstrom of uncertainty. No one believed for a second that these men had legitimately killed themselves, not so soon after the massacre of Duval Tower, not when they each had some connection with Duval Enterprise in one way or another. Many believed the green twi'lek with the cybernetic prosthetic, who'd been caught on camera at the Duval Tower, was responsible but there simply was no substantial evidence to implicate her involvement.
Some claimed to have seen the woman around the time of each reported death, but the stories never quite matched up. These reports faltered somewhat with the passing of Pascua, as the twi'lek was reported visiting Haven Station at the same time.
Then things went quiet.
Wren was seated at the desk in the captain's quarters of the ship Dorian had given her. How long had it been since she'd heard from him last? She hadn't seen him since she left Coruscant to embark on this journey of vengeance. A quiet sigh escaped her lips as she leaned back in her chair, staring at the screen in front of her. It was impossible to deny that she missed him. Though her time with him had been short, she'd been genuinely happy when she'd been with him. Would she ever get to go back? Not likely, she thought bitterly. Life had a way of ensuring she never stayed content for long.
She'd been reading up on her next target for hours. These hits each required weeks of meticulous planning and research. Rubbing her eyes, she closed the browser and pushed herself to her feet.
There was still work to be done and she wasn't quite sure when it would be finished -- if ever.
For now, she had a meeting with her newfound benefactor: The Matriarch.
Three men were dead.
All of which were influential figures of the wealthy elite who once thought themselves snuggly impervious to consequences for their actions. They were men who abused those they deemed beneath them, corrupt and amoral individuals who thought themselves above the rest of the galaxy -- dealing in slaves, one way or another. Two of them pretended to adhere to anti-slavery laws, sidestepping the ineffective legislation through the use of indentured servitude contracts. Wren's name was still tied to such a contract, as were the women that made up her small squad.
It'd taken time for her to train the girl's how to properly use a blaster, but each of them proved to be a quick learner, with a skillset entirely her own. Jules had taken a quick liking to heavy weaponry, explosives, and hand-to-hand combat; Talival proved to be an excellent shot with a sniper rifle and was quickly learning the ropes when it came to hacking security locks; and Evesrete once made a living as a slicer before a slaver caught her. More importantly, however, all three felt as strongly about putting a quick and decisive end to the underground slave trade as Wren did.
Sometimes, violence really was the answer. Passivism could only accomplish so much in the face of such corruption and cruelty. Doing nothing left countless others vulnerable to falling victim to these monsters.
The man first to die had been Jakob Naviro, a Corellian businessman who worked closely with Hutts and Sadavir Duval. While on paper he worked as a courier and salesman; but what official databases failed to properly document was his work as a procurer of "legal" indentured servants. It seemed that with enough credits, any palm could be greased to look the other way. Unfortunately for him, he'd been relatively easy to reach, as most of his business was conducted at a headquarters on Nar Shaddaa. Each of the girls on Wrenarias' team, including herself, had passed through the doors of his warehouse at some point in their lives.
Jakob Naviro was found with a self-inflicted blaster wound to the head in his office. Oddly enough, his security cameras had been suffering a reoccurring malfunction for several days prior to his unexpected suicide.
A few weeks later, an associate of Naviro and Duval, Balo Kit, inexplicably flung himself off his balcony at his highrise apartment in Coruscant's Emerald district.
Roughly a month after Kit's demise, yet another wealthy CEO, Pascua, met an early death on Fresia -- found dead in his bedroom closet, apparently having accidentally strangled himself to death with his own belt via auto-erotic asphyxiation.
Rumors abounded, swirling through the Core in a maelstrom of uncertainty. No one believed for a second that these men had legitimately killed themselves, not so soon after the massacre of Duval Tower, not when they each had some connection with Duval Enterprise in one way or another. Many believed the green twi'lek with the cybernetic prosthetic, who'd been caught on camera at the Duval Tower, was responsible but there simply was no substantial evidence to implicate her involvement.
Some claimed to have seen the woman around the time of each reported death, but the stories never quite matched up. These reports faltered somewhat with the passing of Pascua, as the twi'lek was reported visiting Haven Station at the same time.
Then things went quiet.
Wren was seated at the desk in the captain's quarters of the ship Dorian had given her. How long had it been since she'd heard from him last? She hadn't seen him since she left Coruscant to embark on this journey of vengeance. A quiet sigh escaped her lips as she leaned back in her chair, staring at the screen in front of her. It was impossible to deny that she missed him. Though her time with him had been short, she'd been genuinely happy when she'd been with him. Would she ever get to go back? Not likely, she thought bitterly. Life had a way of ensuring she never stayed content for long.
She'd been reading up on her next target for hours. These hits each required weeks of meticulous planning and research. Rubbing her eyes, she closed the browser and pushed herself to her feet.
There was still work to be done and she wasn't quite sure when it would be finished -- if ever.
For now, she had a meeting with her newfound benefactor: The Matriarch.
