[IC] Star Wars - The Search for Justice (Closed RP)

[Dargo Karr]

A long time ago in a galaxy far, far away…

Senator Nalgen, a representative of the Coynites, has spent many years, and a vast portion of his personal fortune, developing plans for a project that he calls the “Safety Net”, which will drastically improve the quality of life for the citizens of Coyna.

However, the plans for the Safety Net were stolen by a thief named Yinem Fone and taken to Sullust, where they were given to Eryd Tyls, a vicious Barabel gangster.

Not wanting to alert Tyls that he knows where the plans are, Senator Nalgen has quietly sent out his most trusted aides to hire a group of specialists to retrieve the plans.

---

Corusant, the jewel of the Republic, has many fine restaurants and cantinas with exquisitely prepared cuisine from all over the galaxy, and near-limitless varieties of drinks to satisfy even the most refined palette. On any given day, any one of those establishments offers wonderful music, dancing, and high-quality entertainment.

This was not one of those places.

This cantina was found in Corusant’s lower levels. It was dim, dank, and the band was bad enough to drive a translator droid to madness. Nason, Chief Aide to Senator Nalgen, was clearly out of his element, but personal comfort was not his concern. He was here because reliable sources had informed him that the person he was looking for could be found here. He scanned the cantina; the man he was looking for should be in back next to the game tables.

He must have been misinformed. There was only one man next to the game tables, but he was a thug. Powerfully built, bruises on his face and arms, and draining a mug of grog, this man could not possibly be a master tactician, could he?

Nason took a seat at the bar and positioned himself so that he could observe the man while he reviewed the file on his datapad. The bartender approached “So what’s your poison?”

Nason ordered a drink that he wouldn’t even touch and started reviewing the dossier…

Dargo Karr was a Sith Tactician in the early days of the war. His battle plans were bold and often alarmingly effective. Almost a year into the war, Karr arranged a meeting with Republic officials and requested to defect, claiming that the Sith had fed him a lie that they just wanted to reclaim what was taken from them, but the merciless battle strategies that they employed revealed their true nature. Karr served as a Republic strategist for over a year, tipping the scales of several battles and earning numerous commendations in the process. But after all his efforts, he simply resigned his position and walked away. When his superiors asked why he was leaving, he said that there were others like himself, idealistic but ignorant of the truth, in the thrall of the Sith, and he could no longer bear to turn the Republic’s forces against them.

While the Senator’s Aide reviewed the dossier, a wiry Rodian approached the man at the Ukjon table. “Do you just enjoy the pretty lights, or do you actually play?”

The man in the corner took a long drink from his mug. He didn’t bother looking up. “I will play anyone that has the credits to lose.”

The Rodian took a seat and dropped one hundred creds on the table. The man grunted and finished his drink. “One hundred creds. Hmph, amateur hour.” He then placed a matching stack of creds on the table and fired up the board.

The Rodian angrily stormed away. He had likely never been so thoroughly beaten. Nason could only look on, amazed. He was no stranger to the game himself, in fact he was quite skilled, but he had never witnessed such bold and decisive moves. The man was clearly a genius, but looking at the profile image on his datapad, and seeing the man in front of him, surely they could not be the same person. Lowering his eyes once more to the datapad, he saw the last official photo of Dargo Karr. He was a soldier through and through. Short, well-kept hair, clean shaven, immaculate uniform, sharp eyes and a hardened demeanor. He looked back up as the man put the creds in his bag. His blonde hair was long and unkempt, he had not shaved in several months, his clothes were in tatters, and his face and body bore the scars of more than a few bar brawls. But his eyes, despite the glaze of cheap booze, were still sharp and observant. He had learned all he could from observation. If he wanted to know if the man in front of him was the man he sought, he would have to take a more direct approach.

Leaving his untouched drink at the bar, Nason approached the man and counted out 500 credits. “Care for a game?”

The man ordered another drink before turning back to Nason. “I was wondering how long you were going to stare at me before you said something.” As the man fired up the board he added “I don’t give lessons, and I don’t do refunds.”

Nason held nothing back. He opened strong, and used the most effective strategy he had ever learned to keep the pressure on… He lasted seven turns. As the man took the credits off the table, Nason knew that this was the man he was looking for. He put two thousand credits on the table. “How about one more game?”

The man pushed the reset button on the board, and gestured for Nason to make the opening move. Nason knew he couldn’t win, but he needed time to try to enlist the man’s help. He opened on the defensive.

The man stared calmly at the board. “You offer enough credits to ensure my attention, then play not to win, but just to occupy my time. You clearly don’t belong here, so what do you want?” The man’s opening move was aggressive. This game would be over soon. Nason knew that he would have to get straight to the point.

“Are you Dargo Karr?”

The man’s next move left Nason confused. A fairly limited piece, placed in an open space on the edge of the field, it seemed like a useless gesture. Had Nason’s question shaken him? The man’s eyes never left the board. “Beneath your cloak, your clothes smell of flowers and soap, your nails are treated, your hair is professionally trimmed, you have cash to burn, and your datapad bears a Republic seal. You are a government official, so you obviously already know who I am, now what do you want?” Karr’s next move was to bring a piece to the center of the board. Unexpectedly straight forward. Karr was trying to lure Nason into abandoning his defensive posture, but he wouldn’t fall for it. He continued to build his main line defense.

“You don’t miss much. I suspected who you were, but I needed to be sure. Now that I am, I have a proposition for you.”

“Not interested.” Karr drove a piece left of center into the middle of the defensive line. Nason couldn’t figure out what Karr’s plan was. His moves seemed random, and his strategy was erratic. Perhaps Nason’s questions were getting under his skin. Capturing the piece that invaded his line with one of his rear defenders, Nason added “You will be well compensated.”

“No doubt. Not interested.” Using the gap made by allowing his piece to be captured, Karr used the idle piece he had placed earlier in a questionably legal, if not altogether respectable, move to drive straight into Nason’s command center.

Nason was speechless. Five moves. Game Over. And on top of that, he had utterly failed to convince Karr to so much as hear him out. Nason got up, and was about to walk away, but a thought occurred to him. He had played Karr’s game and left him utterly bored. If he could offer Karr a challenge, and perhaps peak his interest, he may still have a chance. It would mean divulging Republic secrets, but Karr didn’t seem like the talkative type. It was worth the risk. Taking the last of his credits, he sat back down and looked at Karr.

“If you can figure out the answer to a riddle, these credits are yours and you will never hear from us again. If not, I ask only that you listen to what I have to say.”

Karr eyed the stack of creds, but did not reach for them. “The promise of some peace and quiet is more appealing than your money. Ask your question so I can get back to my drink.”

Nason leaned forward, so as not to be overheard. “How does one turn a planet into a utopia, reduce crime to almost nothing, and provide for the needs of the population of a planet for only the cost of a dozen droids without using slaves or forced labor?”

Given what he knew about the situation, the answer was obvious. The Republic had developed state-of the-art droids. The plans were stolen. They needed help getting them back. The only thing that left Karr wondering was “Why come here? The Republic has tacticians and special operations forces of their own, so why come here?”

Karr looked at Nason steadily. “You have my attention. Speak your peace.”

Nason breathed in relief. He didn’t even realize that he had been holding his breath. Karr had given him a chance to play a new game, and it was Nason’s turn. He couldn’t waste it.

“Senator Nalgen of the Coynites has spent many years developing plans for a project called the “Safety Net”. It will improve the quality of life for the citizens of Coyna, reduce crime, clean trash and pollution, and increase the planet’s trade revenue. The Safety Net is a highly advanced web of construction droids, only a dozen at first, which will harvest minerals from trash and waste and create raw materials, from which the droids will build large complexes that will contain free-of-charge medical droids and services, rest areas, security droids, and more construction droids. The construction droids will then move on and begin building another facility within fifty kilometers of the previous one. After the planet is covered in a net of these facilities, the construction droids will then shift their function to perform maintenance on the facilities.”

Even Karr was impressed by the ingenious simplicity of the plan. Now it was time for the real reason for the visit. Karr looked at Nason “But…”

Nason sighed. “But, surely anyone could see the potential to create a self-replicating army of war droids. The plans were stolen by a thief named Yinem Fone and delivered to Eryd Tyls, a Barabel gangster operating out of Sullust.”

“And you need someone to recover the plans, but despite having government resources at your disposal, you are down in the gutters trying to recruit a wash-out.” The puzzle now clear in his mind, Karr followed the line of logic. “That means that you’re afraid that going through official channels could tip-off the thief or his employer. You think someone in your cabinet is on the take, and you need a team not affiliated with any government branch so the Barabel won’t see it coming when they come to steal back the plans.”

Nason nodded. “We can get you to the planet, but you will have to determine the exact location of the plans and how to retrieve them . What’s more, until the plans are recovered, we can only provide enough funding that won’t raise any eyebrows. It will be risky, it will certainly be dangerous, and the support that we can provide is minimal at best. Aside from the knowledge that you will greatly help a planet, and the promise of later reward, there is little that I can offer you. I asked you to hear me out, and you have. I understand if the risk is too great. The choice is yours.”

Karr smiled and his spirits rose. Almost at will, the glaze on his eyes vanished and he saw clearly for the first time in years.

“Sounds like quite a challenge.” Karr stood and took the Aide’s hand. “Looks like you’ve got yourself a boy.”

[Dargo Karr]

Corusant’s lower levels are quite active. With everyone who comes there seeking their own personal damnation, next big score, or the next sucker to take advantage of. Most places you go you would have to shout to be heard over the din, but here, in the relative comfort of a small quarters, the ambient roar was muffled to a dull moan. In the darkness, surrounded only by the light of a few vid screens and datapads, Dargo Karr studied each screen in turn. He had arranged for quite an elaborate system to be set up with a direct link to the Republic’s data centers. And while the Senate was footing the bill, he also arranged for state-of –the-art security systems and locks to be installed. He never cared about security before; he had nothing worth taking. He rarely even bothered to lock the door. But now, surrounded by profiles and dossiers, security reports and holo vids, he was finally beginning to feel like himself again. As long as the Republic was picking up the bill, he could have ordered a few comforts for himself, but he didn’t. The chair in which he sat was hard, but sturdy, and after so many years drinking and passing out in cantinas, he doubted his ability to sleep in a bed anymore.

Turning his attention to one of the datapads, he scowled and promptly dismissed the profile on the screen. He had been scowering records and reports for days, searching for candidates for his team to retrieve the stolen Safety Net plans…

It was going poorly.

He had organized clandestine operations before, of course, but then he had been serving in the military, and always had a wide pool of the best and brightest who were anxious to do their duty. Back then he could pick names almost at random and put effective teams together in a few minutes. Now, after days of searching, he had only a handful of possible candidates. All of whom would have to be recruited, and all of which had more than a few reasons to tell him to go pull a rancor’s tooth. Karr had his work cut out for him. He realized immediately that the odds of success in this mission were practically nil. Combine that with the fact that they wouldn’t be paid until after the mission, and it would be a hard sell. He could lie to gain their support. Tell them the mission would be easier than sunbathing on Tattooine and the money would make them filthy rich, but he wouldn’t do that. If there were any peace or redemption to be found in this mission, it would only come from the truth.

As he was about to dismiss another potential recruit, he received the alert from one of his vid screens that let him know that someone was calling him. He had disabled the standard ringing tone; it was insufferably irritating. Karr sighed heavily. It was probably the Senator’s representative looking for a progress update. Again. Karr was beginning to remember why he hated dealing with politicians. As he hit the button to answer the call, he was ready to give the little worm a piece of his mind.

“Look, I will never be done if you-“

His voice caught in his throat. There was no possible scenario he could have predicted that would lead to this. He sat slack-jawed. So surprised that a gentle breeze could have bowled him over.

The woman on the screen was strikingly beautiful, and all too familiar. Luxenna Bats was the daughter of Xen Bats, the old friend that Karr had killed in battle just a few years ago, and, technically speaking, she was still his god-daughter. Karr had never dared to show his face to her after the battle that claimed her father, but he had arranged, through a series of intermediaries, for all the money he won hustling games to be given to her as anonymous gifts. Luxenna was silent for a moment as well. The weight of the moment was clearly more than she had been anticipating, but, in the end, she had been preparing for this moment, and she recovered herself first.

“Hello Dargo. Don’t say anything yet, or I may lose my sense of purpose.”

She closed her eyes for a moment, and took a deep breath, then began to recite what was clearly a carefully prepared warning with an almost business-like efficiency.

“I didn’t follow my father’s footsteps in the military, but I still have friends there that keep me updated. Mostly gossip and the like, but occasionally I hear things worth knowing. I don’t know who exactly, or why, but the Imperial upper chain have sent a Sith warrior to hunt you down. Not a common foot soldier either, an actual Dark Jedi. I don’t know what they want with you, but it can’t be good. I don’t know where he is, but he is on his way, if he isn’t there already, so you need to go underground, before he finds you.”

Her warning delivered, her stoic demeanor began to slip, and she once again appeared as a vessel of uncertainty and confusion. Karr didn’t trust his own voice. Couldn’t move to clear the burning wetness gathering in his eyes. After a moment that felt like an eternity, the combined whole of his remaining faculties was just enough for him to ask “Why?”

She looked back at him. Her expression became somewhat clearer; maybe even softened a bit.

“Why do I bother warning you? Why don’t I curse you? Why do I still care about the man who killed my father?”

She looked away for a moment. She bit a fingernail nervously. Her Heart and mind were at war, for obvious reasons. Unable to reconcile the two, she looked back at Karr.

“I honestly didn’t know what I was going to say when I called. I didn’t know for sure if I would warn you away or ensure you walked right into his hands.”

And then, her face smoother. A soft, gentle smile appeared on her face. The years of inner conflict had drained away. Her heart and mind had settles on a side. She looked Karr straight in the eyes.

“You look like bantha fodder. At first, I thought you were sending me the money out of some kind of obligation, and yes, I knew it was you, I’m the daughter of a strategist, remember? I thought perhaps you were trying to absolve yourself, but looking at you now I can see that you only wanted to take care of me, and you have hated yourself more than I ever could. I started a clinic, did you know that? The Xen Bats Trauma Recovery Center, using the money that you sent me. We have physical therapy for wounded soldiers, grief counseling and support groups for families, victims and traumatized soldiers. It is completely free, and everyone is welcome, regardless of which side they have supported.”

Perhaps it was the stunned silence, or maybe the confusion on his face, but she seemed to answer his unspoken question.

“How can I forgive you so easily? Well, it wasn’t easy. I hated you for a long time. For a while it felt like I blamed to whole war on you. But, like I said, I still have friends in the military, and I can find things out when I want to. I saw the holo vids from the Battle of Narth and the records of the transmissions between the Republic and the Empire. I know you tried to talk my father down but he didn’t want to listen. And I also know that you only destroyed them when they tried to kill you all after you had already surrendered. I wanted to blame you, I really did, but I have watched those vids hundreds of times. I know every word that was said, and I had to admit that you were a good man placed in a bad situation.”

She glanced at her wrist. Her tone became business-like once more.

“My time is almost up. Go to ground Dargo, the hunter will be there soon and I don’t want you to die.”

She reached over to end the call, but paused. She looked to the screen once more, the softened expression returning to her face.

“And Dargo… Take care of yourself.”

The screen shut down. Karr sat staring at the empty space where she had been, his mind reeling. An hour passed, the only sound was the constant muffled roar of Corusant’s comings and goings.

When he finally looked up, a new man looked through his eyes. The one person in the universe that could have saved him had just thrown him a life-line. He believed, for the first time in years, that redemption was truly possible. He picked up his datapad with a new sense of purpose, and looked at the list of names. Thirteen potential candidates to meet, a Sith Stalker on his tail, a suicide mission to plan, and a planet to save. A wolfish grin crossed his face.

“Looks like this might be fun after all.”

[Dargo Karr]

Battle of Narth – Two years since the start of the Republic/Sith War

The battle was going poorly. The Empire’s forces had perfectly led the Republic into an ambush. After an initial charge and hasty retreat by a small attack force, the Empire had managed to pull a fast one, flanking the Republic forces with more than triple the amount of ships that intelligence had reported. The lure worked perfectly, and unless a miracle occurred, the Republic’s ships would be completely annihilated.

Dargo Karr, recently promoted to Captain, specialized in such situations. Having been called in from advising a ground battle on Byss that was now firmly in the Republic’s favor, he was the only hope of survival for the troops in the command ships, and the pilots in the star fighters.

He had been told on the way to the command center that the situation was dire, but now, seeing it for himself, even he doubted his ability to salvage the battle. He analyzed the situation: nine Imperial Command ships to three Republic ships, twenty Sith-piloted fighters to six Jedi fighters, over five hundred Imperial fighters to just over one hundred Republic pilots, Republic forces surrounded on all sides, and the Empire’s forces laying down continuous fire.

No sooner had he taken the battle’s measure than the Imperial ships began to implement a maneuver that Karr was very familiar with. With the Republic forces completely surrounded, the Empire’s fighters pushed the Republic ships into a mass group in a concentrated area, while spacing their own ships in a close perimeter around the mass, leaving the Republic’s forces trapped like a fly in amber. Karr immediately recognized the battle plan and knew exactly who was on the Imperial High Command ship; a former friend named Xen Bats, who highly favored the maneuver. Which also meant that any moment, the Imperial ships would riddle the Republic forces with an area-encompassing barrage of laser fire and proton torpedoes.

Karr knew Bats. He wasn’t a bad person; he was actually a good man, he just hadn’t seen through the Sith’s lies like Karr had. If Karr could talk to Bats, maybe convince him to accept their surrender, the Republic soldier’s lives may be spared. Karr opened a comm channel to the Imperial High Command Ship.

“This is Captain Dargo Karr of the Republic Command Forces requesting an open comm channel to Xen Bats.”

The line was silent for several tense moments. Karr began to wonder if he might have been mistaken, when the holo-projector flickered to life. Xen Bats, his old friend, stood in silent judgment. For the sake of the people fighting, Karr had no time to waste.

“Xen, I want –“

“That is Colonel Bats to you. Traitors do not get to address me by my first name. If you contacted me because you wish to ask my forgiveness for your treason, you waste your time.”

“Xen, please, listen to –“

“I have nothing more to discuss with you.”

The image blinked out and the holo-projector went dark. Karr’s spirits fell. He should have told someone else to negotiate. He should have known Bats would not listen. Now, knowing that he was watching, Bats would kill these men out of pure spite. In Bat’s eyes, Karr would never be more than a deceiver…

Wait. Deceit. That gave him an idea. He turned to the Command Center’s ranking officer.

“Colonel. Open an all-stations comm channel and announce our surrender!”

Colonel Tine, a proud Twilek officer, could hardly believe what he was hearing.

“Surrender?! The Sith will never accept a surrender when they have us in such a vulnerable position! This is why you were brought in!”

Karr could not control his temper. The thought of what he was about to do made him sick.

“Just do it! Tell the Empire we will jettison our ammunition and dock our fighters as a show of good faith. Just keep the Imperial Command talking for five minutes!”
Karr ran to the personal office of Colonel Tine and sealed the door. Colonel Tine was one of the few officers capable of broadcasting encrypted messages to all the Republic’s ships simultaneously. Karr waited until Colonel Tine began broadcasting the Republic’s surrender, and the fighting ceased for a moment, to broadcast a secure message to all the Republic ships.

“Attention all Republic vessels, this is Captain Dargo Karr, listen up. In a moment, Colonel Tine is going to tell you all to jettison your ammunition and dock your fighters. You will comply. Fighters will jettison everything, even fuel. Command ships will jettison all ammunition with the exception of a single armed proton torpedo. While this is happening, pilots of the command ships will calculate jumps to light speed through any opening in the enemies perimeter that you can find. The moment the Imperial Command Ship refuses to accept our surrender, all command ships will fire their proton torpedo at the jettisoned ammunition and then immediately make the jump to light speed.”

Many pilots, most notably the Jedi, found the plan distasteful, but, seeing no other way out, agreed to comply. On orders from Colonel Tine, all the remaining ships jettisoned their payloads and docked on board the Republic Command ships. Karr walked back into the Command Center a few minutes later, just as General Svol, commander of the Imperial forces, issued his reply.

“Well Colonel, it would seem that you are as good as your word. You can always trust the Republic to take the noble path. Thank you for docking your ships. They will be so much easier to destroy this way. Consider your surrender denied.”

Without further prompting, the Republic Command ships fired on the derelict ammunition as they made the jump to light speed. With the Republic ships already at a safe distance in hyper space, they didn’t even feel the shock wave as the chain explosion of the accumulated mass of ammunition and fuel destroyed the surrounding Imperial vessels.

A chorus of cheers erupted in the Command Center as the Republic ships reported back safe and sound. Hollers of elation and claps on the back echoed throughout the room. Colonel Tine strode purposefully toward Karr.

“Dargo, you saved hundreds of lives, destroyed thousands of enemies, and pulled a crushing victory out of certain defeat! I will personally see to it that you are commended by the Republic High Command! Mark my words Karr, you are going to be a General one day!”

Karr left the room. He didn’t respond to the praise. Didn’t hear the congratulatory shouts. Alone in the hallway outside, he collapsed against the wall. He had abandoned the Empire because of their merciless tactics, and yet he had just used manipulation, trickery, and deceit to kill a good man. Xen was his friend once, and his last words to Karr were the venom spat at a traitor, devoid of honor. Karr tried to tell himself that it was necessary, that the Imperials would not have shown mercy, but the more Karr replayed the battle in his mind, the less he was able to convince himself that Xen had been wrong.

[Darth Firias]

He sat as still as the metal framing of his starship in the lotus position, hands upon his knees, meditating on the lesson from the holocron still hours before, the voice of the dark master of the force guiding his thoughts to the true path of power.

Peace is a lie. There is only passion.
Through passion, I gain strength.
Through strength, I gain power.
Through power, I gain victory.
Through victory my chains are
Broken.

These simple words had been the rote of his soul for longer than he cared to remember. Even his name was long since forgotten, the Dark Side had no need of names. Only one name served him now, only one name that was his to wield through reputation and terror.

Darth Firias.

A name earned through blood and sweat and pain. Given to him by the master of the Dark Force whose bones lie to rot on the planet Gravion IV. Felled by Firias's own lightsaber with not so much as a grim smile for his ascension. Breaking the chains was the only motive, his master was simply an obstacle to be overcome and subsequently destroyed having served his purpose. Not even his name was worth carrying forth.

The voice from the holocron, however, was worth far more and then some. It was everything. Ancient in the purest sense, from a master of the Force that the galaxy had long since forgotten, yet whose mark is indelibly there for those who know how to see it. Yet even this prehistoric Force of darkness had no name that Firias was able to discern through the vast teachings contained within the pyramidal crystalline holocron before him.

At last with a controlled exhalation, Firias opend his eyes, blood red ringing an iris of golden yellow, eyes of rage and pain and passion. With careful deliberation he picked up the holocron and put it into one of the secret pockets concealed beneath his armor. He wore a simple suit of high-density ceramic plates that covered his vitals and limbs meshed with a nanowire cloth that fit his form like a second skin, and could stop a vibro-knife with as little as a bruise to show for it. Over this he wore a dark cloak, frayed from years of combat and wear. It hung about him like a shadow, concealing his form and armor beneath. He was otherwise completely unadorned with any sort of frivolous trinkets or piercings as was typical sith custom. No tattoos marred the pale complexion of his skin. The dark side did not curry power based on appearance. Firias learned early on that fear is largely based in imagination, not in detail. Besides, tattoos do not block laser bolts or weak jedi lightsabers.

He slowly rose from his seated position like a shadow sliding from the movement of a star. Nearly formless save for its imposing six foot height. He moved with the casual grace of a born warrior from his meditation room to the control room of his small starship. Its holographic displays indicating a myriad of mechanical details about his voyage to his destination. He said a single word in the ancient sith language and the voice of the AI informed him of the time of arrival. He would be on the surface of the planet in under an hour.

While his mission was of yet unclear, his resolve was as hard as Mandalorian Iron. He was charged with finding a certain Dargo Karr by one of the Emperor's many Dark Lords. Never one to question the will of the embodiment of the Dark Side, Darth Firias obeyed with a grim resolution. Dargo Karr would face his masters, no matter where he chose to hide.

[Dargo Karr]

Corusant – Phase 1 of recruiting has begun

“At this rate, I’m going to have to compile a new list.” Karr muttered to himself as he walked away from the burning wreckage.

It had only been a week and already Karr had crossed six names off the list of potential candidates, and unfortunately all of them had been pilots. Karr had hoped to secure a low-profile ship and pilot before trying to recruit the rest of his squad, but chances were now looking very slim. The first person he had talked to, an older Twi’lek woman named Lyssa, had been very open to the idea of a job, until Karr told her that it would be payment on delivery after the mission was over. At that point, she told him that he could go do things with a wampa that were probably illegal in most civilized sectors, and maybe even some of the uncivilized ones as well.

The second meeting didn’t even go as well as the first. The pilot was human, and specialized in ferrying people of interest to undisclosed locations. As soon as Karr introduced himself, the man told him to get lost without even looking up from his drink.

The third actually took a few days to track down. He was a Sullustan pilot of a ship called the Galactic Finch, and Karr had managed to find him as he was leaving a brothel. Karr had actually managed to offer the pilot a proposition, and the pilot agreed to listen, and that was when Republic Security swooped in and arrested them both. Karr had spent a few hours in a cell before the Senator’s Aide showed up with a signed release. Karr was, of course, obligated to inform his employer of the complete lack of progress in his mission.

They were not pleased.

The fourth pilot, another Twi’lek, was amiable enough, and even agreed to being paid after the mission was over. However, as soon as Karr told him where they were going, he ran away like he was being chased by assassin droids.

The fifth pilot was a Zabrak, and he was… less than receptive. And more than a little rude. Karr spent some time in a bacta tank for laser burns after that.

As Karr crossed another name from his list, his personal com link began to chirp. As Karr answered it, he speculated what it could be about, but he was reasonably certain that he already knew.

“This is Karr.”

The background noise of a loud, and not particularly good, band poured through the small comlink speaker. This call came from a lower level tavern. As he expected, this was a call that Karr had been waiting for.

“Dargo, It’s Paf. I don’t have much time. I need to warn you that there is someone looking for you. He might be a bounty hunter, I’m not sure. All I know is that he’s brutal.”
It would seem that the Sith had finally arrived, and Karr had yet to recruit a single member for his team. Karr started to curse but paused as an idea came to him. He would have some arrangements to make.

“Thanks for the warning Paf. Tell you what, get yourself to a safehouse as soon as you can, and hire some guards in the meantime. I’ll foot the bill. Take care.”
Karr switched off the comm, knowing full well that if the Sith caught up to Paf, then he was as good as dead. Karr hoped that the guards would be enough to protect him, or that the arrangements he was going to make would catch up to the Sith first, but he doubted it. Paf wasn’t really a friend, but he was a good informant, unfortunately there was nothing more that Karr could do for him at the moment.

With the Sith’s arrival, Karr’s timetable had been moved up. With a grim determination, he checked the next name on his list.

The sixth pilot was more than Karr had dared to hope for. He was a human, named Tellor Hunt, and he piloted a Star Screamer class ship, the Wandering Dragonfly. Karr introduced himself to Hunt and found him to be a surprisingly cheerful fellow, for a smuggler. When Karr suggested an offer, Hunt was willing to listen. When Karr told him it would be payment on delivery, Hunt accepted it. When Karr told him where they were going, Hunt didn’t flinch. When he explained the details of the mission, Hunt actually surprised him by offering to take part in the job for no more than the cost of fuel and expenses.

“I couldn’t accept payment for this. Not when it could help so many people. Tell you what, I was just about to drop the Dragonfly off for a few repairs. If you can spring for the maintenance and fuel, we can leave whenever you’re ready.” Hunt told him.

After a hearty handshake, they agreed to meet at the spaceport in two weeks. Hunt fired up the engines and turned towards the repair yard, while Karr turned away to continue his mission. Dargo couldn’t believe his luck. Perhaps this mission wouldn’t be so hopeless after all…

And that was when the ship exploded.

It would later be identified as Spontaneous Catastrophic Engine Overload, but for now, Karr turned and walked away, muttering to himself.

[Darth Firias]

The informant he had just dominated informed the dark warrior that Karr was lying low in the underbelly of Corusant, which suited Firias just fine. He would be able to move freely with his dark powers paving the way for him without the eyes of would-be authorities following his wake.
Authorities could be such a bother, that is by slowing him down by way of dying upon his lightsaber.

His typical method of barrel in and overwhelm with force could not be feasibly but to use in this dark underworld of the city, however, due entirely to the population density. Firias knew his power was great, but not that great… not yet.

He moved his way through the throngs of obscure humanoids, who parted before him almost subconsciously, though some more notably whenever they met his furious gaze. He was on the tail of yet another lead that could prove fruitful in his hunt for Dargo Karr, who was a surprisingly deft hunt. It seemed this Karr was able to see Firias’s moves before ever he made them. The only headway he seemed to gain was undoubtedly due to his brutal approach to interrogation.

There is only so much a sentient mind can handle when its assailant understands more than just physical pain.

Through the Dark Side he could feel the fear of his quarry. He was gaining ground. Suddenly it seemed as the incessant din of voices, shouts, screams, and threats that pervade the underworld of the planet city took on a new timbre. Bodies pressed wildly against him in an attempt to flee some unknown horror that was coming up the street towards Firias. His senses were briefly overwhelmed by the fear of the throng pushing towards him. As he deftly moved through the mass of horrified bodies surging forward, he heard a deafening roar. A beast had escaped from an illegal trafficking cartel not far down the lane.

“Someone has misplaced their rancor.” He smiled humorlessly, at war with himself. If he stopped and felled the beast, it would fill him with great rage and triumph, increasing his power in the Dark Side, the holocron had taught him as much. Unfortunately for him, not so much the rancor, that would mean the guaranteed escape of his prey, and another setback in finding Dargo Karr.

So, with a furious scowl, he threw up his cloak to conceal his features and with effort of his will and the power of the Dark Side, pushed his way perpendicular across the street and into an alleyway that smelled of ten kinds of fodder, throwing fear stricken humanoids aside like leaves before a storm. They had no powers of the force themselves, and thus had no hope of interrupting Firias’s force fueled advance.

He reached the alleyway in short order, is scowl becoming all the deeper for the filth he saw there that seemed to have stratified throughout the centuries of the cities existence. Exhaling, he centered himself on his rage and used the emotion to heighten his other senses, the ones that didn’t have to do with sight, smell, taste, and didn’t take him long to find who he was searching for, the man reeked of fresh fear; he had been tipped off to the dark warrior’s approach it would seem. This Karr was well informed.

With a resolution to find out who his informant was at a later time, he turned towards the carbon steel wall behind him and began to climb, finding hand and foot holds in the grime that collected and hardened over a lengthy period of time. No one cleans the undercity. His quarry was only a few levels above him, and was guarded by fearful men. They may not think they felt fear, or would admit to it, but Firias knew how to find the fear in the hearts of all sentient life. It was one of the first lessons the dark holocron had bestowed.

“It is not enough to master your own fear, you must dominate it. In doing so, you will be able to so dominate any who would oppose you who lack the will that is necessary.” The voice of the holocron said in its sepulchral tone, echoing in his thoughts. A lesson burned into his very soul.

It was this very fear he could sense that lead him to an alcove in the heights of the underworld below Corusant. Four figures stood silhouetted against the dark of the city by a red floodlight illuminating the balcony to the alcove. It was to be his quarry’s last stand locale it would seem. Again a mirthless smile found its way to Firias’s face. It would seem his prey would show its claws after all. He was counting on that.

Without preamble, he launched himself from his hold on the side of the wall, using the force to propel him through the stagnant air towards the guard nearest him. The guard never saw him coming, and his death cry was cut short by an amber bladed lightsaber burning its way across his lungs and through his heart. He was dead before his breath was boiled out of him. The other guard cursed loudly in Nautalon and drew his blaster and threw the weasel of a man he was being paid to guard aside to his other member of the bodyguard. Perhaps, he was not being paid nearly enough. He let fly with his blaster, but the Sith warrior simply held the guard he had impaled aloft and absorbed the blaster bolts with his fleshy shield. The bolts of superheated plasma melted into the man’s flesh with dull thumps and the smell of burning hair and meat filled the already rancid air. Firias poised his hand in a claw behind the spine of his impaled shield, and let fly with a tremendous shock of force that sent the limp body careening towards the guard who had opened fire. A sickening crunch followed as their skulls collided with fatal force and both bodies fell in a tangle of limbs and broken bones.

The last guard took out both of his laser pistols and took aim at the warrior just as he saw his colleague fly through the air, thinking to take this attacker by surprise. He had dealt with force users before and would not entertain the possibility of giving the warrior a chance to turn his efforts towards himself. He let loose a hail of laser fire on the enemy, thinking to overwhelm him.

Firias growled under his breath and brought his lightsaber to bear on the incoming laser bolts, neatly picking them off as he advanced towards the guard. His prey was scrambling to his feet trying to escape through the security access door, so Firias aimed one of the bolts he was deflecting at the man’s legs. It blasted clear through the small man’s knee, ruining the joint and dropping him onto his face which stifled the scream he had let loose.. Not waiting to see how his assailant would react he drew deeply upon the Dark Side of the Force and filled his body with hate fueled power. He surged toward his opponent suddenly and viciously, keeping low and out of the field of fire above his head. A few bolts burned through his cloak, giving it yet more character to its already tattered appearance. Before the guard could react, Firias whipped his lightsaber through the man’s wrists, severing them neatly and dropping the pesky laser pistols to clatter on the alcove floor. The man’s face was white with shock as he stared disbelievingly at the smoldering stumps where his hands once were. Firias simply walked by the man, who never saw the blade swipe from behind him, level with his shoulders, and the guard’s head too clattered and bounced to the deck, the look of shock still etched into its features.

The small man whimpered pitifully as he clutched his ruined knee and tried in vain to back away from this monster who laid waste to his guards with seeming little effort.

“Just what in the hell do you want with me?” the man screamed in uncontrollable fear.

Darth Firias had him now; he bent all of his will on crushing what was left of the man’s sanity. Using his might in the Dark Side he wielded fear as though it was his very lightsaber, able to burn through even the steadiest resolve, a blistering malice born of years of training and pain before the trials of the holocron and his dark Master before that. To any whom he focused this dark intent, he would appear as a vision of death incarnate, come to destroy the very soul of the one he sought and take what was left back into whatever dark place he had come.

The sniveling man never had a chance. As a fetid yellow puddle formed between the man’s legs, he gave Firias all the information he wanted to know, and then some.

Dargo Karr was not so far off as he seemed, thought the dark warrior as he gazed upward towards the upper city…

[Dargo Karr]

Corusant - Recruitment Continues

After the attempt to employ Tellor Hunt had, literally, gone up in flames, Karr decided that a drink was in order...

That was three days ago.

Although the surface of Corusant boasted some of the best watering holes in the galaxy, Karr walked until he found what could generously be called a hole-in-the-wall. Although compared to the lower level cantinas it was luxurious and relaxing, compared with the other establishments in the area, the place was a dive. Karr settled in and, as long as he kept his tab paid, the establishment didn’t seem to mind that he hadn’t actually left.

Karr was busy unraveling the mysteries of the universe, with the assistance of some very strong Correllian brandy, when a familiar face walked in. Nason, Chief Aide to Senator Nalgen, was beginning to act more like a handler than an intermediary. It didn’t take much for Karr to appear disinterested as the man took a seat across from him and looked around.

“Well, at least your taste in quality has improved from the last tavern I found you in. You should be careful. If you keep this up, soon you might actually get a haircut and start shaving regularly.”

Karr took a long pull from his bottle, he had long since quit bothering with the glass, and looked straight at him.

“And perhaps if you had an original thought of your own, the Senator wouldn’t need to keep using you as his personal sock-puppet.”

Despite his tone, Karr had actually come to enjoy the verbal sparring with his benefactor. Nason had a keen mind and, if he developed his self-confidence a bit, he could become a quite formidable man in his own right. For a moment Karr had anticipated a retort, but the set of his jaw showed that Nason had bigger issues in mind.

Nason held out his hand, and Karr placed the bottle in it. Nason took a long drink and set the bottle on the table.

“We may have a problem.”

Karr was somewhat surprised. He had never even seen Nason drink before. Even when he had ordered a drink at the cantina during their first meeting, he never actually drank any of it.

“Clearly. Just take a deep breath and tell me what happened.”

Nason looked at Karr, unsure of how to begin, but, realizing he couldn’t possibly outmaneuver him, decided to simply be blunt.

“You know we have our ear to the ground where you are concerned.”

“I figured as much.”

“Yes, well. During a security investigation in the lower levels, your name came up. A local informant named Paf Vel was found dead, surrounded by mercenary body guards, also dead. It seems that they were killed by a lightsaber. When security investigated his comm device, they discovered that his last call was to the Hiring Hall, presumably where he hired the mercs, and this is when we caught wind of this, it seems that the next to last call was to you.”

Karr’s face was placid, but his mind raced. The Sith was making far greater progress than he expected in so short a time. If Paf was dead, then the Sith was on his way to the surface as they spoke. Karr needed more time. More time for his mission, more time to plan, more time to make arrangements. He looked back to his list of names. It seemed that he would have to jump around the list a bit to buy himself the time he needed.

“I need you to arrange a ship for immediate departure to Nar Shadaa. It looks like I have an appointment with Malcolm Raynor.”

[Darth Firias]

It was late night, or early morning, one could never tell in the perpetual dark of Nar Shadaa, when Darth Firias touched down in his starship. He punched a few keys into the navigation console and initiated the ship’s auto defense systems. No matter how powerful in the force he was, no Sith or Jedi had ever figured out how to fly through space at light-speed.

The last broken informant had told him that Karr had fled to this moon city, right before his heart gave out from the fear. He ground his molars in frustration. Another damned all encompassing city, and this one seemed dirtier than the last somehow.
Firias gathered his thoughts inward and drew upon the Dark Side, seeking his prey yet again through a veritable forest of fears and hatreds. Again frustrated that he could find nothing, he vented his rage on a nearby Gungan that had wandered too close to his launchpad than was advisably safe. His outstretched hand formed a grip on the air and the Gungan’s neck seemed to implode. A pitiful squeak escaped its lips as it writhed its death throes on the cold bitter deck of the star-port. Somewhere far off a protocol droid laughed in triumph.

Not a single soul looked his way in admonishment. He allowed himself a smirk before setting out into the dimly lit city in search of a trail to follow.. It wasn’t long before he found an informant that had the information he wanted. To say he had a knack for getting information was a sad and sore understatement, and practice made him all the more ruthlessly efficient. With renewed vigor he turned to follow this new path, or tried to as powerful hands clamped down on his arms and attempted to wrench them around backward painfully.

Enraged that anyone would be so bold, he resolved to find out how exactly the assassin crept up on him despite his heightened Sith senses, but not before crushing this would be assassin. He drew upon the latent force around him, bolstering his strength and broke free of his attacker’s iron grip. With a flick of his wrist, his lightsaber flew from his belt to his hand..

At the exact moment his adversary pulled a vibrosword of his own. With a shrill whirring noise the blade activated. The man wore a jet black uniform with piecemeal armor covering various vulnerable points. He had a black helmet with a reflective face shield hiding his visage and giving off an air of cruel anonymity. Without so much as a whisper the man sliced downward at Firias’s off hand, but feinted for a stab to the neck at the last instant. Firias anticipated the move and lined up his lightsaber accordingly. There was another shrill screech when the vibroblade met the amber energy of the lightsaber, but the metal blade did not break or melt.

Unfortunately for Firias, his lightsaber extinguished on its own accord when it came in direct contact with the blade. Cortosis! It was a cortosis blade! This fight just got interesting. The vibroblade descended down onto Firias’s shoulder, havn deflected from his neck. Firias launched himself into a backward somersault but not fast enough as the blade bit into his trailing forearm, splitting the ceramic plate and muscle underneath like butter.. It was Firias’s force assisted speed and reflexes that saved the limb altogether.

With a grunt of pain, Firias summoned up his renewed fury. Bolstered by rage, he reignited his lightsaber and stood at the ready, daring his opponent to attack. Again, wordlessly, the assassin charged right in, and caught a force blast to the chest. The man was sent sprawling backward into some cargo crates thirty feet behind him. They smashed into splinters and bent nails. His left arm bent at an awkward angle at the elbow, the man in the black mask stood back up defiantly.

The fight was back to an even keel, or so it would have been had the assassin known anything about the Dark Side that Firias had access to. Though obviously trained to fight force sensitives, the man simply had no other defense against it beyond his incredible stealth and agility. So as the man rose fully he nearly caught a blast of force lightning to the chest. It was his turn to show incredible reflexes as he dove forward under the arcs of lightning streaming from Firias’s fingers. Unrelenting, the man dove forward again at a different angle, closing the distance and dodging a second blast. He came to his feet to the left and behind Firias, who turned with an underhanded slash to the assassin’s knee. The assassin lifted his leg out of the arc of the saber and slashed down again, confident that his cortosis blade would finish the job.

He had underestimated Firias’s fury. The blade bit into Firias’s shoulder as his lightsaber crossed under and into the vibroblade’s hilt, ceasing its matter ruining vibrations. With the blade embedded firmly in his shoulder, Firias turned his torso savagely, ripping the blade from the surprised assassin’s hands. The amber blade of superheated energy whipped through the assassin’s torso above the waist and continued out through his ruined left arm. With a grunt, Firias kicked the man in the chest in a pushing motion, and still augmented by his rage and the Dark Side. The man’s top half flew again into the broken crates and was still. The legs continued to teeter slightly until Firias, nearly consumed by fury, hurled them with the force as powerfully as he could. It would be a strange day for whoever discovered a pair of legs had landed in their vehicle.

Firias fought to control his emotions warring within him, and slowly the air around him ceased to ripple and shake with his fury and power in the force. He calmly walked over to the assassin’s top half and raised him out of the rubble with the force, suspending the lifeless body in the air. He walked forward and searched the myriad of pockets on the man’s person, halved as though it was. Firias briefly thought his act of launching the legs might prove to have been foolish as was finding nothing in his top half.

At last he found what he had been looking for. A small data chip in a pocket in the man’s armored bracer of his remaining arm. Firias dropped the body unceremoniously to the deck and pulled his cloak up around his head.

It would be a long walk back to his ship. But now he had another lead…

[Dargo Karr]

Nar Shadaa – The Confrontation

No more running.

Darth Firias stood in the street and observed the lone entrance to the cantina. Karr had given him a good chase, but he had reached the end of his road. Karr was inside. But something was wrong. This was a popular cantina in a populated area. There should be obnoxious music coming from inside, and a steady stream of people coming and going, but there was nothing. Firias thought it odd that there was no sound of rabble wasting their lives, but there was nothing. It was quiet, and not a single soul had come or gone in the time since he had arrived. For a moment, Firias thought that perhaps his information had been wrong, but he immediately pushed the thought from his mind. No. His information was good. The trail of soulless husks that he had left drooling on themselves had made sure of that. Karr was here. Firias pushed away his doubts and embraced the passion of the hunt.

Firias casually opened the door, not wanting to alert his prey and give him a chance to escape. He was completely unprepared for the scene that awaited him.

The cantina was empty. There were no bartenders, no barmaids, no customers, and no music. It was silent as the grave. Even most of the lights were off. Only a single overhead lamp, and the soft glow of a game table in the back of the cantina, broke the darkness.

Even more surprising was the fact that sitting there, completely at ease, was Dargo Karr.

Karr had an open bottle of high-end alcohol in front of him. Across the table was an empty chair and another bottle of the same liquor, this one unopened and sealed.

Karr was alone, unarmed… and entirely unshaken.

He tipped his bottle toward the empty chair, and looked Firias right in the eyes.

“Please, join me. It’s about time we talked.”

Firias was doubly surprised that not only was the place devoid of lesser beings, but that his quarry sat there looking for all the galaxy like he had invited Firias there.

“Either you are very powerful, or vastly idiotic. I sense no others present, yet you know exactly what I am.”

Karr looked at Firias evenly.

“Of course. I have been aware of you for weeks. Who did you think it was that left the bread crumbs that allowed you to find your way to this exact place, at this exact time, and arranged to make sure that we would not be disturbed?”

Karr gestured again to the empty seat.

“Please, sit.”

Firias returned Karr’s gaze.

“Your words may ring with truth. Yet what is preventing me from destroying you now? Or have you brilliantly engineered your own death?”

“Simple analysis of the facts. If you prefer the challenge and the thrill of the chase, then you would be willing to fight me unarmed. If you care only about the completion of your mission, then there is nothing I can do to stop you anyway. So until this little episode reaches its conclusion, there is no reason we can’t talk and share a drink.”

Karr gestured to the game board.

“Do you play?”

Firias regarded the man before him in new light. There was no fear in this man. Only calm, despite his obvious bluff about hand to hand combat, Firias thought. Absurd.

“For the very reason that you intrigue me do I not crush you where you sit.”

He seemed at war with himself, but finally Firias sat in the offered chair and looked thoughtfully at the game board illuminated before him.

“And no,” he said at last “I do not.”

“Very well. I am given to understand that the Force gives you some guidance provided you understand the idea.”

Karr explained the rules briefly and simply, then raised his bottle to his opponent.

“May the Force be with you.”

And then Karr made the first move.

Something clicked in the back of Firias’s mind. A side of his consciousness long buried. This game could not be won by power and tyranny of will alone. It would take true cunning. Now that his curiosity was piqued, Firias threw himself into the game. For the Force did indeed give a small glimmer of insight and clarity. Not as much as his anger and rage could drive fear in an individual, but close.

Firias looked at Karr and said “This game is a very accurate verisimilitude to our previous game of cat and mouse it would seem.”

Karr answered calmly “Of course, on the surface, parallels could be made to our own recent history. But, of course, you learn more of your opponent by looking beyond the surface.”

Karr began to shift his stratagem, moving pieces in the back outwards, while he continued to speak.

“But, of course, despite that, there is always more to find in the big picture than the depth of any single action. Take our short association, for example. Given what you know of me, and what you have experienced, what would your assessment be?”

Firias took a moment before answering.

“That you calculated the risk in allowing me to find you so vulnerable, but for what purpose I wonder? Do you believe you can hold sway over me? Or that I will find you to be a source of wisdom? That is what you hope is it not?”

Karr seemed to shift his tactics yet again, seeming to favor a more aggressive center charge.

“Partially. You have gleaned much from the depths of a single action, and yet the bigger picture remains shrouded. Shall I tell you what I have learned by your actions?”

Firias arranged his pieces in an array before him that would provide maximum defense and chance for a counterattack.

“Do tell.”

Karr slowed the pace of his attack, while also moving the back pieces further out and away from the combat.

“You have great power. Too much raw power in fact. In your race to find me you encountered a series of obstacles. Some could have been easily detected or avoided, and, in so doing, would have brought you here much sooner than tonight. But you didn’t. You destroyed every obstacle before you, because you could.”

Karr gestured to the relatively straight-forward defensive line of his opponent, and continued.

“You favor the straight-forward path. This tells me that you are confident and proud of your power, and this in itself tells me that you crave more.”

Karr began to pull back from his aggressive center charge and re-group, while moving the outer pieces into a cone-like formation.

“But there is a downside to having too much power…”

Firias said “Oh? What makes you think so?”

As emphasis, a few of the tables and chairs in the room began to float. As Firias moved his pieces to flank and counter the deviant cones, the tables and chairs were crushed into splinters and twisted metal.

“I’ve beaten you with power.”

Karr was calm and unmoved by the display, and delivered his answer.

“An over-abundance of power makes you think uni-laterally.”

The cone formations swarmed around the back through the now open gap in his defensive line. The regrouped center force charged once more. His opponents forces were wiped out in a devastating pincer attack. As emphasis, in one swift move, Karr shattered his bottle and surged forward to place it at Firias’s throat.

“Power is all well and good, but it is a poor teacher in the ways of tact and patience.”

Karr lowered his hand and sat back down.

“If you would like to play again, I have a proposition for you.”

A smile played at the edges of Firias’s lips. Then a chuckle emerged, followed by true laughter.

“You are the first man to surprise me in over twenty years, let alone the first to be so bold and brutally honest!”

His laughter died as his eyes burned with fury nearly unrestrained.

“Again” and he arranged his pieces once more before Dargo Karr.

[Dargo Karr]

Nar Shadaa – Lessons Begin
Things were not going according to plan, but that wasn’t entirely a bad thing. Despite the rough start, things were now looking to swing in Karr’s favor. He had arrived in Nar Shadaa to try to meet with a former Republic Pilot turned smuggler named Malcolm Raynor, only to discover after he arrived that Raynor had fled just a short while before after a run-in with a gangster named Neeska the Hutt.

Although he wasn’t able to meet with Raynor, Karr had arranged to meet with the Sith that had been stalking him, and actually managed to turn him to his side. Karr played to his ego and convinced him that if he joined Karr’s Task Force, then Karr would be able to instruct him in the ways of tactics and three-dimensional thinking. While that was true, Karr also had an ulterior motive. Karr hoped for a measure of redemption from this mission, and all the better if he would be able to drag Darth Firias along with him. It would be challenging, to be sure, but there was also more depth to Firias than the average Sith.

But now, Karr was focused on Malcolm Raynor. Karr knew that Raynor had a brief shootout with Neeska the Hutt’s thugs before getting away. If the Hutt wanted him that badly, then he was probably searching for Raynor’s ship, the Dawnchaser. Which meant that if Karr wanted to find Raynor, he would have to talk to Neeska’s goons.

“I don’t see why we need to talk to them. I could get the information we seek much more quickly.” Firias said to Karr.

“Undoubtedly. And you would also throw up quite a large smoke signal. Have you ever wondered how I always prepared things to hinder you? How I always knew you were coming? It’s because screams and dead bodies tend to attract attention, and gives people a chance to tip-off the target. If Raynor goes to ground, he could disappear. We need to get to him before he knows we are coming.”

Firias did not like the slow approach, but he said nothing more. These lessons were, after all, the reason he had chosen to follow Karr in the first place.

The pair made their way to an establishment, the polite term would be “Gentleman’s Club,” on the west side of the area. This was part of Neeska’s territory, so the odds were good that they would be able to find someone here with connections to Neeska’s organization. Karr hoped he could get the information he needed soon; he would rather not have to deal directly with the Hutt.

As they approached the entrance to the ironically named “Pillow Talk,” Karr wondered to himself how many secrets had been leaked or stolen over the years in places like this. Coming to a stop before the establishment, the bouncer, a rather large barabel wearing some wicked-looking shock-boxing gloves, barred their path. Karr had expected this, so he led off with his carefully prepared witty banter:

“Hey Suzie. How’s the trim tonight?”

An electrical current passed between the prongs of the shock gloves as the Barabel clenched his fist. Otherwise, he looked completely calm.

“Warm, tender, flexible, and off-limits to trash. Now get lost. Members only.”

Karr reached into his pocket and removed a stack of creds.

“But we are members. See, I have my membership card right here.” Karr said as he slid the creds into the bouncers vest.

The Barabel never moved. He looked at Karr and said,

“Thanks for the tip. Now here’s one for you: Scram.”

This wasn’t going to end well.

“Come on, let me in. I’m getting tired of going to your mother’s place.”

The bouncer ground his teeth and clenched his fists, electricity surging across the gloves. His tone held a note of malice in it.

“Last chance. Get lost before something bad happens.”

Karr sighed. “Why can no one just be civilized anymore?”

Karr looked back at Firias.

“This guy is a bouncer for a shady establishment. Trouble isn’t just likely, its expected. Any incidents won’t be over-analyzed. But just to be safe, no weapons or anything ‘extra.’ I’m sure you wouldn’t mind the challenge.”

Karr turned and walked right past the bouncer. The Barabel reached for him, but the black-clad hand of Darth Firias caught his wrist, and Karr strode into the building.

There were men scattered around, in various stages of depravity, and they were still out-numbered by the selection of women available. Women of multiple different species stood or sat around in the main area, which had been decorated to look something like a courtyard, complete with a small fountain in the center of the room, except that everything was awash in soft crimson light. The ambiance of this place could have made it a very appealing bar, if it had the good fortune to have been built in a better area.

Most of the “employees” who were currently unoccupied turned to see who had walked in, and more than a few eyed Karr with what might be called “professional interest,” and perhaps even a surprising bit of enthusiasm.

A few walked over quickly, anxious to stake their claim on him. A few whispered things in his ear that left him thinking “Uh. Um. I know I came here to do… something.” When one particularly attractive woman offered her services on the house, Karr decided he needed to find one of Neeska’s guys quickly, before his capacity for self-expression was reduced to monosyllables and grunting.

“I’m looking for a man.”

The girls looked very deflated. Most walked away. A few decided they would try to change his opinion. Karr looked at the girls who remained and asked them

“Which of you has been here the longest?”

One of the girls brightened a bit, while the others looked at her jealously. Karr put a strong arm around her and the other girls walked away pouting. Karr pulled her close and whispered in her ear

“I need a man who can help me find someone.”

Comprehension dawned on the woman’s face.

“Oh. You’re one of those.”

Her face suddenly became cold and uncaring. Karr subtly slipped a Genosion pearl into her hand. He had arranged for a small stash of precious gems for more ‘discreet’ pay-offs. She glanced at it without moving her head. She gestured to a small bar to the west side of the room.

“Fine. Wait here.”

Karr strolled over to the bar and had a seat. The bartender, an attractive woman who was probably one of the other working girls when she wasn’t serving drinks, offered Karr any number of liquors. No drinks from bottles or any other sealed containers, Karr noted, and then he realized the red glow served purposes other than atmosphere. The crimson lights could hide any number of drugs, aphrodisiacs, or even poisons that could be easily seen in normal lighting. Karr ordered a glass of local wine, but did not attempt to drink it. The bartender offered friendly conversation, obviously glad to be behind the bar rather than working the rooms. Karr waited quite a while, but no one tried to talk to him besides the bartender. Not unexpected. It was a simple psychological dominance game. Whoever Karr was going to meet wanted to show him that he had more important things to do, and he would not be rushed or interrupted.

Karr didn’t mind. The bartender was actually quite pleasant, although he noticed that she had to hide a frown or grimace whenever she talked about her job. She seemed like a genuinely good person, so he asked her

“Do you like your job?”

The question had caught her off guard, and she hesitated, afraid to answer. Karr tried to reassure her by telling her

“It’s alright. I’m not going to turn you over. I just want to know how you really feel.”

A moment of sadness crossed her face, but she quickly covered it up with a fake smile.

“Pouring drinks is actually kind of fun, but I only do that a few times a month. As for the rest… well, I meet some nice people…” her voice trailed off “…sometimes.”

Karr looked into her eyes.

“You know, with your attitude and spirit, you could be a bartender at one of the nicer places on Corusant. Probably even make more than you do now.”

She looked back at him, somewhat stunned.

“Probably. Most of us here don’t actually make that much. We work here for the protection. Most of what we make goes to just getting by. There is no way we could afford to go off-world, much less get by on a new world while we try to get a better job. We are dependent on the gangs here, and that is the way they like it.”

Karr reached out and offered his hand.

“I’m Dargo.”

She reached over and shook it.

“I’m Raina.”

As they let go, Karr slipped a very valuable Corellian Ruby into her palm, knowing that the crimson glow of the room would hide the act. She gasped when she looked at it, but before she could react and give herself away, he leaned closer.

“Okay Raina, get a shuttle to Corusant, tonight. When you arrive, you will see a Coynite man in official clothes, goes by the name of Nason. Tell him Dargo sent you, and he will help you get settled until you find a job.”

She couldn’t speak. A strange man had just walked in and given her a way out. She tried to speak, but he beat her to it.

“You should keep working, or else you might give yourself away.”

She tried to busy herself, but her face was a storm of conflicting emotions. But life of Nar Shadaa breeds no small amount of skepticism. After a few minutes with her thoughts, she looked at him with suspicion on her face.

“Why?”

Karr smiled gently.

“Because some people need to be saved from the dark.”

She suddenly narrowed her eyes in anger.

“My life may not be glamorous, but I’m not helpless, and I don’t need to be saved.”

Karr made a soft, somewhat sorrowful, chuckle.

“I wasn’t talking about you.”

As she began to understand, her face lost the anger it held. Perhaps she was about to say something more, but he would never know. She glanced over his shoulder and, without a word, she began to make a drink. It was time.

Karr turned around. The man walking towards him walked at an unhurried gait. He wasn’t much to look at, lean and well-dressed and cleaned up. Well, ‘clean’ for a gangster on Nar Shadaa, anyway. He sat next to Karr and placed a datapad on the bar-top. Raina placed the drink she made in front of him and moved away quietly. The man looked at Karr, sized him up, and Karr grinned a bit when the man nodded non-chalantly, and two guards appeared at the other side of the room. He took a slow drink from his glass before deigning to speak to Karr.

“I understand that you are looking for someone. What makes you think that I care about this person? For that matter, why should I care about you?”

Karr didn’t like this man. But that was alright. He saw how things would play out.

Karr said “If you give me a moment of your time, I’m sure that you will find my offer very compelling,” as he slid a stack of credits towards the man. He looked at the credits, took them, and said “My name is Niclaf, and you have ten minutes.”

The guards returned to wherever they had been waiting. The introduction was clearly some kind of signal. Time for Karr to dangle the worm.

“I have an offer that will be very beneficial to both of us. I seek the whereabouts of Malcolm Raynor.”

Niclaf was surprised for a moment, but quickly regained his composure.

“Tell me more.”

Karr grinned, He’d taken the bait. Karr had him.

“Our wayward Mr. Raynor owes my employer quite a bit of money. I understand that your boss would like to settle a few matters with him as well. I tracked Raynor here, only to find that he was already gone. I don’t have any leads as to where he has fled to, but a man with the resources of your organization might. I understand that your employer cares more about sending a message, whereas mine only cares about getting his money. If you help me find him, I will capture him. I will take his ship back to my employer to settle his debt, and I will give Raynor to you so that you may deliver him to Neeska. You see? We both win.”

Niclaf was practically salivating. This would surely advance him in Neeska’s organization. By the time Niclaf was finished thinking, he was practically thrusting his datapad into Karr’s hands.

“We’ve identified his ship as making port on Tattooine, but left again shortly after. We haven’t seen him re-surface yet, but when he does, we will know it.”

Karr pretended to browse the datapad with professional interest, but actually he was waiting for the bug he had attached to do its work. The bug was currently changing all the files concerning Raynor’s ship in Neeska’s system. Specifically, it was changing the transponder code. After this, if any of Neeska’s men tried to capture the “Dawnchaser,” they would find themselves face to face with a Republic warship. He was also sending the Dawnchaser’s real transponder codes to his own datapad. When the program finished running, Karr smiled, palmed the bug, and returned the datapad.

“I have what I need. I’ll be in touch.”

Karr nodded and shook the man’s hand. Niclaf was shaking, no doubt anticipating his imminent promotion.

It was almost too bad that when Neeska eventually discovered that the change in their systems had come from his datapad, Neeska would kill him.

Karr walked back out and glanced down. The bouncer lay in a crumpled heap. Firias stood a short walk away. When he approached, he saw the Sith had a large red mark on the side of his face that was beginning to purple. Karr approached him.

“Been waiting long?”

Karr caught a mischievous glint in his eye. Firias smirked.

“Not really. I kept the crowd entertained for a while. So what did you find out?”

Karr pulled out his datapad and began searching through the Republic military personnel files.

“He was here, he was ambushed by Neeska’s people, and he ran. His ship was registered making port in Tattooine, and leaving again shortly after.”

Firias reviewed the information in his head, looking at the available options. Finally, he said

“He’s running. He wants to stay on the move. If his travel is random, then our only options are to follow him planet to planet until he stops long enough to catch up to him, or wait for the transponder code to pop up on a planet we could reach quickly.”

Karr nodded his approval.

“Very good. And what if his travel isn’t random?”

Firias thought for a moment.

“then you try to discover a pattern, and intercept the target at their next destination.”

Karr nodded again. He paused when his datapad brought up the file he needed.

“Exactly. Now think about his state of mind. He’s running. Where do you go when you are scared and need to go to ground?”

Firias’s eyes narrowed, his voice threatening.

“I do not feel fear.”

Dargo spared him a glance.

“And that hinders you more than you know. Being able to put yourself in an adversaries head; to think how he thinks, and feel how he feels, is absolutely necessary in being able to predict how they will react to different situations.”

Karr continued to browse his datapad while Firias pondered this. Karr let him think for a few more minutes before offering his advice.

“Our target just had a group of people try to kill him. He needs security. Where would you go when you need to feel safe?”

Firias looked up, like the answer was written on his brain, and he just needed to see it.

“I suppose I would return to Korriban.”

Karr smiled as he found the information he was looking for. It wasn’t public information, so he didn’t need to fear Neeska’s goons finding him. He nodded his approval to Firias before saying

“Exactly. You go home. Let’s get ready for take-off: we’re going to Alderaan.”

[Dargo Karr]

Alderaan – Killing Time
Dargo Karr was beginning to get frustrated. He was accustomed to waiting, patience was, after all, a virtue for a tactician, but more than a week on Alderaan and Malcolm Raynor had yet to arrive. Checking his datapad, he saw that Raynor’s ship had made planetfall on two more worlds. He was still on the run. Of course, Raynor had no way of knowing that Karr had changed the transponder codes of the Dawnchaser in Neeska the Hutt’s database, and therefore had made his planet-jumping meaningless, but still, Karr had thought that Raynor would have shown up by now. Karr began to wonder if perhaps he had made a miscalculation, but pushed it away. For a strategist, doubt and second-guessing yourself was tantamount to failure. Karr put his datapad away, and took a long drink from his mug of ale.

He had set himself up in a cantina next to the docking bays of Alderaan’s largest spaceport. If Raynor wanted to come to Alderaan discreetly, his best bet would be to get lost in the crowd of this spaceport. Karr’s datapad was programmed to alert him when Raynor’s ship broke atmo, and Karr would be waiting for him outside the docking bays.

Karr returned his attention to the game board in front of him. The Coynite Senator had done well providing Karr what he requested for this mission, but even so, since their mission was off the books until it was over, their funds were limited. So Karr decided that since he was waiting for Raynor anyway, he would earn some creds gambling at the game tables. Although it could hardly be called gambling; his opponents never stood a chance. He made his last move, and then grabbed the stack of creds while his pieces destroyed his opponents self-worth.

The rodian man was trying to figure out how he lost so poorly. Karr could see it in his eyes once his ego kicked in. Karr could almost hear his thought process:

This isn’t possible. I’m too good. I never lose. I’m better than this. I can’t lose to some thug in a bar. Something must be wrong. He must have tricked me somehow.

Karr tried to steer him away before he got too carried away with his thoughts, so Karr said

“Take this loss and learn from it. Walk away now and try again later.”

But it was too late. He made up his mind, and outrage began to grow on his expression. He slammed his fist on the game table.

“You cheated!”

Karr knew where this was going. He had danced to this tune many times, and he knew all the moves. He surveyed the room. Firias currently sat in a corner; he came and went as he pleased, doing whatever it was he did in his downtime. At a table next to the wall, the rodian’s friends had taken notice of the ruckus and were about to stand, no doubt to move to their friend’s aide. The rodian before Karr was wiry and, regardless of the adrenaline and heated emotion, was in no way prepared to attack. He wasn’t a fighter, and he would go down easily enough. The rodian’s friends, however, were another matter.

The one on the right was fat. Anyone else probably would have written him off as not much of a concern. Karr, however, noticed faint scars across his knuckles. He may not be a warrior, but he had been in more than a few scraps, and probably knew how to throw a punch. The one in the middle had a little bit of meat on him, but not much. The way he grabbed the bottle on the table and pulled back his shoulder said that when the action started, he would throw it at Karr’s head. The one on the left though, he was the muscle of the group. He was stocky, but not much fat, and he was already reaching in his pocket, probably for a knuckle-duster. He hadn’t even gotten fully out of his chair and he was already squaring his feet and shoulders. He was likely a boxer.

Unfortunately, they weren’t the only problems. To the left, at a standing table, were two humans, brothers most likely, given the similarities in height, build, and facial structure. The one on the left was moving to put himself between the possible threat and his brother. Karr felt bad for him. He was going to be drawn into this just because he wanted to protect his family.

There were several people at the bar, but two in particular were drunk and angry. When the fight started, they would start swinging at whoever was close to them. It wouldn’t matter why…

And then, there were the Gammoreans… Why they were at a cantina on Alderaan instead of Tattooine was unusual, but it didn’t matter. There were six of them around a table off to the west side, and when the swinging started, they would jump in. They didn’t even need to be drunk, and once they were involved, they would make sure that everyone else was too. Whether they wanted to be or not.

Karr sighed inwardly… Why can no one be civil anymore?

Threat response: Wiry rodian is closest, easy target. Immediate blow to the head will incapacitate. Boxer is biggest threat, move on him before he puts on knuckles. Avoid bottle thrown by lean rodian. Avoid boxer’s preliminary jab, strike back of the knees, redirect haymaker. Heavy rodian will attack from behind. Redirect force of charge into downed boxer. Break for roundhouse kick to lean rodian: incapacitated. Flip table onto heavy rodian and boxer, followed by kick to heavy rodian’s face: incapacitated. Boxer will have to move out from under heavy rodian and table to continue. Have to cull Gammoreans before they upset entire cantina. Have to move around brothers. Lefty will interpret sudden movement as hostile and attack. Will have to be put down. Lefty favoring right leg. Will strike with lunging haymaker. Duck, strike solar plexus, jumping knee to the face: incapacitated. Unfortunate. Brother will attempt to retaliate after shock passes. Move on, Gammoreans priority. They will be moving towards bar to attack patrons after the two drunks start swinging. Intercept pack. Gammoreans have naturally weak lung capacity due to short and heavy stature. Liberally distribute throat jabs and stomach kicks. Gammoreans: incapacitated. Patrons at bar dealing with drunks. Minor squabbles erupt on east end of bar. Will sort themselves out. Next priority. Brother has recovered from shock and wants payback. Will charge, angry and unfocused, attempt body charge. Feint right, trip, pin to ground, nerve pinch. Brother: incapacitated. Boxer has regained footing and put knuckle-dusters on hands. Will move to attack, but won’t charge. Move within arms reach. Boxer favors right, will lead with right jab. Avoid jab, counter with uppercut. Target elbow before the arm is pulled back. Sprain elbow and hyperextend tendons. Press advantage. Deliver second kick to back of knees. Patella dislocated, knee swollen, tendons torn: won’t stand again tonight. Won’t walk again for three days with bacta treatment. Block left arm uppercut to midsection, grab back of head and introduce to knee… three times: nose broken, jaw dislocated, multiple gashes and abrasions to face. Finish with elbow strike to nerve cluster in neck. Boxer: incapacitated.

Final Assessment: Four rodians, six gammoreans, four humans down. Bar patrons subdued drunks. Minor fights end, some end unpleasantly. Bartender has already called for security. Cantina next to largest spaceport on Alderaan, security response time: three minutes. Time elapsed: two minutes, thirty seconds. Charges: Assault, battery, disturbing the peace, destruction of property. Sentence: minimum five years, ten thousand credit fine, incarceration without bail until court date. Trump card: Firias. Actual Estimated Incarceration Time: Two days.

Karr finished his mug of ale. Oh well, he needed to vent some frustration anyway. He set down his mug, and lunged.

Karr thought he must be losing his touch… It took two minutes and forty seconds. He dropped to his knees before the security forces had even come through the door. His hands were already on his head when they came in a few seconds later. He offered no resistance, and said nothing as the restraints were put on him. The only action he took was to offer Firias a quick wink on his way out. Firias would surely enjoy the diversion of breaking him out of jail…

[Darth Firias]

The Depths

Half of a week passed by and it was beginning to become obvious that this Malcom Raynor was not coming any time soon. Darth Firias often wondered what he was even doing, allowing this Republic traitor to run free and not be brought back to Firias’s Dark Overlords back on Korriban. The answer was obvious, of course, but not one readily admitted by the Sith warrior. He rather enjoyed the haphazard company and enlightening conversations he had with Dargo Karr. Though he’d sooner kill the man than admit that to Karr, he had a suspicion Karr already knew that secret.

So it was with little trepidation that he watched from a dark corner of the cantina whenever Karr decided to toy the rabble out of a bit of their credits, or, a lot of their credits depending on Karr’s mood. He sat and watched… and learned. Firias could already feel his mind beginning to work in ways he had previously believed to be frivolous, but now understood to be cunning. He was beginning to see the bigger picture, right down to the angry Rodian Karr had just beaten, who was about to confront Karr with hateful thoughts on its mind.

What happened next was most surprising. Rather than be taken unawares, as his mellow state would have one assume, Karr saw the attack coming, and had planned a suitable defense. And so it went, with Karr being at least two maybe three moves ahead of his would be attackers. Once the brawl started, it was savage, but quick. It took several minutes for most of the cantina’s patrons to lie unconscious on the floor, and the few who remained standing to assess that the fight was over. Karr had, of course, been almost solely responsible for it’s abrupt conclusion.

Firias sat in the back, observing it all, with an arched eyebrow of surprise and admiration for Karr’s talents. Perhaps he hadn’t been bluffing those days prior in the empty cantina on Nar Shadaa. Intriguing.

Firias quietly slipped out of the cantina as the local authorities arrived to haul Karr away. As he was being forcefully shoved into one of their landspeeders, Karr threw a wink at Firias before disappearing into the speeder’s cabin. Firias allowed himself a chuckle. Perhaps a night or two in jail would calm Dargo Karr, but he had at least given Firias the amusing task of breaking him out of jail. Even if it wasn’t Karr’s intent, Firias would not abide some would be authorities taking this fount of knowledge from him. Firias would not admit the second half to that truth that Karr had become something of a friend. The Sith’s warrior mind did not know how to process that truth’s meaning, so it was pushed aside.

Under the pale moon of Aldaran’s night sky, a lone figure sat before a small glowing crimson pyramidal crystal. To anyone foolish to be an onlooker, it would seem as though the figure were communicating with the glowing crystal. They would be right.

Firias bent his will against the crystal for perhaps the thousandth time. He pressed hght and fury and indignation at being denied its secrets into the structure in an effort to coax a whisper of knowledge. Sweating and frustrated Firias relented. The crystal’s wards would not budge.

A thought came to him then. Something Karr had said days before in the empty cantina. “An over-abundance of power makes you think uni-laterally…” With a grimace, the dark warrior tried a new approach. He split his mind into three pieces, as he had learned to do when playing Karr’s lightboard game. He pushed ever so slightly with his will, split thrice, upon the crystal before him.

The crystal suddenly became intensely bright. As if it were impatient that this tactic had taken far too long to be imagined, it opened up to Firias like it never before had.

“It would seem, my young apprentice, that you have finally given real thought to your mind’s progression, and not just its power. A master of the Force must be a master of his mind. Power is not everything, though it is a tool to wield against the foolish that would stand against you. True power comes from cunning and guile, and being able to outmaneuver your opponents both on the battlefield and off. The same is true with the ways of the Force. Not everything is a matter of will and strength. The Force has subtleties that you could never comprehend in a thousand, thousand years. You must open your mind to it. You were failing.”

Firias recoiled at that last statement. His eyes all but glowed with fury at his own foolishness. The Dark Master of the Force continued on:

“You have seen the truth of things now, however. In doing so, you have passed yet another test I have imbued within this holocron. Prepare your mind and body, young Sith. Your training takes on a new level of difficulty. You will become something more than your brethren. Something more… than Sith!”

Long into the night, the dark figure sat before his crimson crystal, learning again the secrets of the force with renewed devotion. The dawn would bring interesting tidings…

[Darth Firias]

The Siege

The moon shone brightly over the Prison that the local officials had taken Dargo Karr. Though prison was hardly the appropriate word for the edifice that loomed in the valley below Darth Firias, a fortress was more apt a description. Firias gazed outward from a perch high in one of the trees that ran along the topmost edge of the large hill that looped around the fortress in a northerly bowl shape. The only natural entrance to the bowl shaped valley was a break in the hills to the Southeast. They would never suspect a single man on foot to either breach the initial perimeter defenses undetected, let alone mount an assault on the prison itself.

Firias continued to study the large structure for any apparent flaws in its defenses. There appeared to be none, unfortunately. Massive laser targeting rail cannons mounted along the topmost ridge of the structure provided highly accurate ground and air assault, while nearly two hundred strong soldiers guarded the perimeter and the many balconies of the edifice.

This was not a prison that an antagonist in a bar would be sent to. Someone knew Karr was here. Whoever they were, they did not want him to leave.
Firias shrugged, there was nothing for it. One way or another he was going to free Dargo Karr. The though surprised him. To think he was going to risk nearly everything for a man he had only met a few weeks prior. He shook the confusing thoughts away, they were a distraction, and he knew he was using Karr to gain more power in the end.

The moon was now low in the night sky and hours had passed without Firias a much as shifting position, but the moment had arrived, the sentries on the wall were relieving the watch. While this did not suppress the threat of the rail cannons, it provided as much of an opportunity as Firias could hope for. He had no intention of being detected regardless.

He shot off of his perch like a laser bolt. He was a shadowy blur against a dark environment. In a matter of seconds, he had made it to the first cover. Five hundred yards to go, and downhill. He sensed the rail cannon’s pass over his location and sprang into action the moment they roved away. He moved down the rocky slope in a blur, his movements focused and enhanced by the force for maximum speed and minimal exposure. Second cover, one fifty yards remaining. The perimeter laser fence is the last obstacle and a caravan is entering the main gate in approximately 45 seconds.

Plenty of time.

He explodes from the cover of the large fallen tree and slips silently through the underbrush towards the caravan. The guards surrounding never see the dark blur exiting the forest and sliding under the antigravity land freighter second from the rear of the compound and latches on until the vehicle passes multiple security checkpoints and proceeds into the supply docks in the back of the facility.
Various voices can be heard, some giving orders directing the unloading efforts, and some directing vehicles. The freighter that he is hiding under does not appear to be moving any time soon.

Thinking of being stealthy is new to Firias, who is unaccustomed to not using brute force to gain entry. If they want Karr imprisoned, they will likely kill him in the event of a breakout attempt. This in mind, Firias leans out to see the layout of the room. There is supply crates stacked along the back wall of the large hold, perfect. Reaching out with the force, Firias shears off the bolts of all restraining mounts of the middle row of crates, causing several to topple to the floor with an earsplitting crash.

Whoever is in charge of the unloading operations begins barking orders to various people to clean up the mess and then moves on the berating the engineer for installing poor materials into the restraining straps. Firias smiles darkly and slips away behind a now abandoned stack of crates. After a quick scan of the room, it is obvious that all attention is aimed at cleaning up the mess that is halting business as usual. Just what kind of prison is this Firias wonders.

Overhead is a large air duct, as there always seems to be in these large structures. Vaulting high off the crates, using the force to propel his leap, he reaches the vent twenty yards overhead. He slowly unbolts the screws that hold the vent cover in place, and as soon as the cover falls way, he is nearly blasted back down to the floor. Only his supernatural reflexes save him from falling the hundred or so feet to the cold durasteel floor below as he catches the lip of the opening and hauls himself gracelessly into the duct.

“Good think Karr isn’t here to see that.. he’d be so insufferable I’d have to kill him” he grumbles to himself.
After winding his way through the ventilation of the structure for hours it seemed, Firias finally arrives above a command station of some sort a few stories above the ground floor. Four operators man large holographic monitors of the myriad of security cameras and guard units of the structure. Seeing an opportunity, Firias gestures at the four men and they begin to choke in unison. After crushing the life out of the men, Firias drops down out of the ventilation and looks at the console. Realizing he is no computer expert, he begins scanning the cameras on the monitors. There! Dargo Karr is in a cell on sublevel ten, three hundred feet below the surface. Just who were these people that wanted Karr so far out of the way?

Looking at the monitor displaying the layout of the structure, Firias chooses his route. The time for subtlety is over. A moment of inspiration comes over him and he uses the console to find a way to shut off the security cameras along the route. After several tries, he succeeds only in finding a way to reset the mainframe of the system. The result is 45 seconds of rebooting. Forty-five seconds to reach Karr. Four hundred feet down.

Again, plenty of time.

The first few levels present no obstacle, the few guards stationed in the above ground levels fall to his blade without pause for his passing. The lower levels are far more heavily guarded. Particularly the passageway leading to the cells that Karr is in. After checking the bodies of the four guards lying in his feet in pieces, he finds a few smoke grenades and gathers them up. Using a severed hand on the access console, he opens the blast door to the last passageway that is filled with what appear to be elite guards. He throws the grenades into their midst and closes the door before they have a chance to retaliate. A bang and shouts of alarm and orders to don breathing devices sound out from the blast door. Firias channels the force into himself, boosting his speed and strength to inhuman levels. He opens the blast door and begins his attack.

The first guard raises his pulse rifle and fires into the direction of the opening blast door, as the third bolt of iridescent energy leaves the barrel, an amber blade descends diagonally through its haft, severing both the barrel and the forearm bracing it. The man’s scream is cut short as the same blade whips through his visor. A second guard engages an energy shield to use as cover but in the last instant sees a dark shape vault high through the smoke and land behind him, his scream is cut short as his lungs instantly boil from the blade searing through his chest as the killer moves on to his next victim. Ducking low, Firias charges the next guard, slamming his palm into the man’s shoulder, dislocating the joint and shattering the collar bone before the force of the blow sends the guard careening into an adjacent guard. As the guard pulls his downed comrade off of himself, he is greeted by a glowing yellow blade to the center of his helmet, splitting his skull lengthwise. One left. The man calls vainly for is comrades to report the location of the assailant, when he hears only radio static he begins the panic, screaming and cursing he begins firing wildly into the smoke filled corridor. A rough voice behind him makes him nearly piss himself in fear.

“Here,” is all Firias says as he grabs the man’s backpack and hurls him at the blast door at the end of the passageway. With a bone shattering crash the man strikes the thick durasteel door and, heroically, retains his feet though his left leg and arm are surely broken. An instant later the same cruel voice says into his ear, “Impressive, your resolve is admirable.” A broken scream is cut off as the burning blade of a lightsaber ignites his heart and begins melting the blast door behind him.

Firias extinguishes his blade, letting the dead guard fall to his feet before catching a gloved hand and, after removing said glove, uses the access console to open the last door to Dargo Karr’s prison block. Firias strides up to the cell door, the man is sitting calmly in the back of the cell on a bench with his chin in his palm.

“Well it’s about time isn’t it?” says Karr nonchalantly.

[Dargo Karr]

Alderaan – A New Approach

As Karr sat in a cell in a sub-level of the prison, his mind raced. There was entirely too much security here. He should have been taken to a drunk tank, not a high-security prison. Only one reasonable explanation: Karr’s detainment here was planned. This revelation in itself brought forth a host of possibilities, but one in particular was immensely unsettling: There was new player on the board, and they not only knew about him, but had a vested interest in keeping Karr from accomplishing his mission.

This means that this new player was someone who knew about Karr’s mission, which meant someone close to the Senator. They also have an interest in keeping Karr from retrieving the plans, which meant that they were getting a cut of the profits, which explains how the plans were stolen so easily in the first place. The answer was obviously an insider, but who? Not the Senator; he invested too much of his own personal fortune into the Safety Net, he would never be able to make enough from it’s sale to make it worth his while. Not Nason; if he wanted the sale to go through, he never would have hired someone with even slimmest chance to actually retrieve the plans. Not family; they would personally have more to gain from the Safety Net’s success than it’s theft. That means inner circle. One of the top two or three most trusted agents of the Senator. Someone who had access to the plans, but doesn’t stand to make a profit from it’s implementation.

Karr could do no more to discern the identity of the traitor while in this cell. Regardless, there was nothing he could do except carry on with his mission. The traitor would be dealt with in time. For now was the question of how long it would take Firias to get him out. There was easily ten times more security than Karr estimated during his initial assessment, but Firias was making great strides in learning to think outside the box. Karr initially estimated two days in confinement, but with the increased security, he revised his initial estimate to two and a half days before Firias would break him out. There were no clocks that he could see, but based on the rotation of the guards and his own internal clock, Karr estimated that he been incarcerated for a little over two and half-

*BANG*

A series of short screams.

...days.

The blast door to the cell block opened and a tall shadowy figure walked through the haze of a smoke bomb. Firias came to stand before the door of Karr’s cell. His hand still resting on his chin, Karr glanced at Firias.

“Well it’s about time isn’t it?” says Karr nonchalantly.

---

Two days later, and Karr was driving a “borrowed” speeder to a house far removed from the city. After some friendly banter with Firias on the way out of the prison, Karr had checked his datapad to find that Raynor had actually landed the day after he was locked up. Figures. But now, Firias had once again gone off on his own unknowable business, while Karr drove to Malcolm Raynor’s private residence to attempt to recruit a pilot.

Raynor’s house was set in a very idyllic setting. Open fields of green with mountains in the distance and crisp, fresh air carried by a pleasant breeze. Karr suddenly thought that he might perhaps have difficulty recruiting Raynor for no greater reason than that even he would have found it difficult to abandon such a beautiful landscape to charge into certain danger.

Regardless, Karr’s team needed a pilot, so he had to try. The house itself was very open, with no doors or shutters that Karr could see. Interesting design choice, he thought. Karr got out of the speeder and walked to the house, then knocked loudly on the wall.

---

As Karr drove back to the starport to meet with Firias, the vacancy of the passenger’s seat of the speeder only served to haunt him. Raynor had all the qualifications and experience that would have made him ideal for this mission. Although Raynor had been grateful for Karr’s assistance in steering Neeska the Hutt’s goons away from his trail, he was understandably hesitant about not only revealing himself so soon, but doing so for the sake of what was practically a suicide mission. Karr couldn’t begrudge him his choice. Were their situations reversed, Karr probably would have said the same thing.

The open top of the speeder allowed the crisp, clean Alderaan air to rush by, helping to clear Karr’s head as he analyzed the situation. The plans for the Safety Net were stolen almost two months ago. Assuming a week for the thief to deliver the plans, two to three weeks to reprogram the Safety Net to produce war droids, depending on the quality of the slicer, another two to three days to error check the new programming, another week to run test programs, and at least a month to perform the initial testing required to ensure the ‘War Net’ will work properly before it goes up for sale, and the time table for retrieving the plans before they were sold was rapidly running out. By now the final testing would already be well underway, and once it was completed potential buyers would be contacted, bidding wars would take place, and arrangements for delivery would have to be made. By Karr’s estimates, he had three weeks at worst, and a month at best, in order to assemble the rest of him team and retrieve the plans before they changed hands. They had to retrieve the plans before the buyer had a chance to activate the War Net. Once the War Net was activated, and the first batch of self-replicating droids were produced, it would be almost impossible to stop. There was also the matter of the traitor to deal with.

Time was running out, and Karr needed a new approach.

Karr pulled into a garage in the capital city of Alderaan and abandoned the speeder. He made his way to a cantina next to the starport were Firias’ ship was docked. He pulled out his datapad and pulled up his list of potential recruits, now painfully thin. Karr didn’t have the luxury of time to continue meeting with each recruit one at a time. He assessed his options. At minimum, he would need a dedicated pilot and a slicer in order to retrieve the plans. Raynor’s rejection had exhausted his primary list of pilots, so Karr brought up his back-up list. There were only four pilots to choose from before Karr would have to revisit his profiles and take another look at the pilots that he had previously disregarded. Karr looked at the short list of names: Jack Harkness, Antarys Vane, Drake Rhazinkarias, and Richard Nightson. According to the data profiles, Vane and Nightson were fortunately both located on Tython, so he would start there.

Of greater concern, however, was finding a hacker. Slicers were, by nature, not given to working well with others. Most of them had an almost fanatic loyalty to their personal agendas; destroying the ‘oppressive’ government, distributing secrets and information, humbling and embarrassing the famous or wealthy, proving their own electronic superiority, or sowing anarchy just for the sheer entertainment. In all his research, Karr had only encountered two possible candidates: Allast Prime and a slicer known only as ‘Argent Knight’. Allast Prime was last known to be on Ord Mantell, which was closer to Tython than Argent Knight’s last known location.

Karr considered his options and found them to be terribly short. He decided that he would have to risk a gamble. He placed his trust Firias’s ability to reason. Karr would venture to Tython to speak with the pilots, and he would have Firias go to Ord Mantell and try to find and persuade the slicer. Karr was naturally concerned about sending Firias to negotiate, but Firias was developing his capacity for subtlety at an incredible rate, and, what’s more, Karr sensed a deeper change occurring within the Sith. Karr knew that Firias had come to view Karr as a mentor, if not a friend, so Karr would extend a hand. He would place his trust in Firias.

His broad plan in place, Karr returned to Firias’s ship to work out the details.

[Allast Prime]

The music was loud and the multi-colored lights shined on statues, holograms, toy droids, and various other bits of memorabilia commemorating holo vid programs, favorite bands, and other assorted stories. It was a shrine, a man cave, for one perpetually embracing his by-gone childhood.

Allast Prime sat in front of a large array of the most highly advanced computer screens and terminals that money could buy. Only the military could possibly have a more advanced setup. As he sat in front of the computer screens, he fingers flew across the keys and swiped at the holographic screen displays. He had spent the better part of a week slowly and carefully infiltrating the Republic security databases. Allast had a frightening number of electronic trip-wires in place designed to alert him when anyone was looking for him, and a few weeks before several of them were tripped in rapid succession. Whoever was looking for him wasn’t someone with a passing interest; they were looking hard to find him. Back-tracking the source of the signal revealed heavy-duty Republic encryption.

Allast almost panicked. If the Republic military was trying to bring him in, he would have to destroy everything and disappear. Allast forced himself to be calm. Panic spawns mistakes. He had more than enough protections in place that if he needed to disappear, he could be gone long before anyone ever had a chance to get close to him. So slowly, deliberately, he began gently working his way through the Republic encryptions, careful not to set off any off their counter measures. It turns out that the information searches originated from a terminal assigned to one Dargo Karr. After finding the name, Allast had to hack into sealed government files to learn about the man that was trying to find him.

Allast was stunned. If these reports were accurate, this Karr was a genius. Highly decorated by both the Imperial and Republic militaries; that was an interesting fact. But Karr had left the Republic military after little more than a year of service. After that the government kept close tabs on Karr, but it seems that he had no greater aspirations than to sink down into Corusant’s lower levels and become a drunkard, and that is where he remained for years. The only interaction he had beyond hustling bar games was to arrange discrete payments to the daughter of an Imperial Officer that had been killed in action during a battle in which Karr had taken direct action. Some kind of penance, perhaps?

But that’s when it gets strange. All at once, just days before Karr starting looking up information about Allast, the government monitoring stopped. No reports, no follow-ups, nothing. A few days later, a terminal assigned to Karr came online and he began searching Republic databases, the Holo Net, and various other sources, compiling a list of people with specific talents; mostly pilots, but also mercenaries, sharpshooters, splicers, thieves, and even a few washed out soldiers, but no one with direct ties to the Republic. This Karr had obviously been conscripted by the Republic to put a team together that could not be traced back to them, which meant some kind of black op. Allast considered the ramifications of this and could only come up with two possibilities. Either Karr wanted to hire him, or killing him was his mission. Although it seemed unlikely that Karr would be adding Allast to his ‘list’ if he wanted Allast dead. Far more likely Karr wanted to hire him.

No sooner had he realized this than he decided that he wanted no part of it. Allast had never used his skills to hurt anyone that didn’t deserve it, and, besides, whatever the mission that this Karr was putting together was, it had ‘conspiracy’ written all over it. The thing about conspiracies is that everyone involved tends to end up dead, and Allast had no intention of finding himself on the wrong side on an airlock door.

So Allast started setting up a series of electronic dead ends and misdirection. By now, Karr likely knew what planet Allast lived on, but no more than that. That’s fine. Even if Karr came looking for him, Karr would find himself in a series of empty warehouses, restaurants, and, if that weren’t enough to deter him, eventually he would find himself in some of the more dangerous areas of the city.

Allast entered the last few keystrokes and leaned back in his chair, admiring his work. The most complicated web of misleads and dead ends he had ever compiled. He smiled to himself. No one short of a Jedi would ever be able to find him now. For Karr’s sake, Allast hoped that Karr would find another slicer before looking for him, otherwise Karr was in for the wildest goose chase of his life.

A small notification screen popped up on one of the monitors.

“Oh!’ Allast said to himself “The fourth season of Tales of Severenthia has finally gone on sale!”

[Dawn Phox]

- sorry for the accidental double post -

[Dawn Phox]

Dawn Phox, born Valara Jeseladai, was born to a poor family in a region that was raided soon after by the Zygerrian Slavers Guild, and acquired as a slave, her family slaughtered in the process. However, instead of sharing in the fate of most slaves and being quickly sold off on the black markets shortly after capture, the Guild itself kept Valara for their own purposes and made her run small tasks for them. It was due to this unfortunate turn in her life that Valara (alias, Dawn) began learning to endure cruel torture methods of various varieties, building up a resistance to pain, amongst other things. While other children often perished quickly around her, only days, weeks, or months after being acquired, she proved to be indubitably strong, and survived ordeals that would have killed grown adults, still only a child. In this way she observed and learned much from the slavers, and unbeknownst to them, picked up more than a few skills to her advantage. Most notably, she learned the ways of concocting incredibly deadly poisons. Within a couple of years, the slavers got comfortable that they had broken her, and allowed her more freedoms, and more access within their rankings as well. That was how, when the slaves riled together during one very badly planned raid, she made their revolt and subsequent escape possibe-- by poisoning nearly half of the guard to death and distributing the retrieved keys amongst the prisoners. In an odd turn of events, it turned out that amongst these slaves an official for the Republic had been accidentally apprehended, and this individual managed to contact his own people around the time of the escape. Those of the Republic arrived on the scene to find most of the slave traders dispatched with – the greatest single amount by a small girl. That feat captured their interests, and they became suddenly very interested in her constitution and skills. When everyone had either dispersed, run, or been taken in by the Republic, the Republic made sure to bring Valara back with them to Coruscant, where the Jedi Council, upon hearing her tale, demanded to see the oddly stoic girl-child for themselves. Upon meeting with her, it was discovered that she was compatible with using the force, to a nearly-volatile degree. However, there was question of her ability to fit in with the other padawans, due to the hard past she had endured her entire life, and her own dark actions at such an impressionable age. They saw a great potential for the dark side from the broken child, and it worried them. However, they were reluctant to simply let her go, or even keep her in hiding-- afraid that she would be scouted out by the Empire and inducted into the ranks of the Sith, turning to the dark side. In fact, they were nearly certain that if they didn't take this chance to get to her first, the Dark Side certainly would. They eventually decided that they might as well get what they could from the unfortunate ordeal. And so, they agreed to take her on.... but in secret, and into an experimental special projects program, aimed at creating the perfect “undercover agent” to infiltrate the Empire and Sith. Although she was trained as a Jedi (technically) her training was unorthodox to say the least, and as such only very select high ranking members who were all known for being rather radical in their approach were privy to the details of said activities. A great deal of that training involved intensive torture and resistance tactics both mentally and physically. Not knowing any better, when they began her training, Valara thought nothing of it, expecting the pain as much as she expected to breathe. Years of this intensive study and practice passed, and all the while she was molded to be loyal to the Republic every way they knew how. In a very rare move, justified as necessary to combat the increasingly greater evils, she was allowed to access the dark side of the force and learned to balance the two halves, as well as suppress either one or the other side at any given moment. In this time, she learned not only combat and saber wielding, but other skills such as infiltration, thievery, and hacking. Changing from a near-mute slave girl with crudely short-cut crimson tresses, often clad only in filthy and ripped beige cloths, she blossomed into a full-figured woman, with a tongue of battery-acid and (unfortunately) a bit of a secret drinking problem. Her mentors took her transformation into a rather attractive woman as a stroke of unforeseen but helpful luck, and she was then also taught and trained to use her wiles, becoming their ideal version of a double agent. They felt it would help her bypass a greater variety of obstacles if she knew how to flaunt her waist-length voluminous tresses, or bat her midnight-blue eyes, kiss with her full lips, or show just the right amount of starkly pale porcelain white skin. And they were right, those traits were useful on their own. On the day that she graduated to “Jedi”, during the staged and very public ceremony, she was to “defect” to the Dark Side and “lose control” of her powers, drawing attention from an Empire that had successfully had its eyes shielded from her potential. The ploy worked and she was immediately recruited by the Empire, taken in as an apprentice from where she watched, waited, and fed information back to the Republic. That was, until she got a very peculiar mission one day, from Senator Nalgen himself. He had gone to great lengths to contact her while she was deep undercover, risking both of their lives more carelessly than ever before, to make it clear that she had to convince the Empire to send her on some ridiculous mission, so that she could watch some washed-up tactical planner and make sure he did the job the Republic had instructed him to quietly fulfill, without drawing too much attention to himself. Evidently, he was hard to miss. She had to accept. Going to the Empire after digging up information on everything pertinent regarding her necessary cover, she voiced her concerns over this untrustworthy “Dargo Karr” individual, thankfully being able to use the involvement of Darth Firias (he had evidently failed to either kill or capture the deserter within a reasonable space of time). She claimed to wish to prove herself to the Empire and locate Karr, as well as Firias (if he lived), and spy on them, reporting any worthwhile findings to the Empire, before eliminating them both. The Empire bit on her offer, and she was able to contact the Senator to confirm that she had a cover for joining with Karr. She then received her full mission from Nalgen, and was set to cross paths with Karr. She was instructed to aid him on his mission with all of her skills, keep the Empire off their tails, and guard him if need be. _________________________ Dawn breezily sauntered through the crowded lounge area, her long crimson hair woven with crystals that winked in the soft lighting, twisting elegantly to the side so that the tresses cascaded down her chest to provide a classy edge to the otherwise revealing ensemble. The burgundy floor-length silk dress was fine quality and swayed invitingly with the outline of her curves, a single pale leg revealing itself nearly to the hip with each step she took. She gave the appearance of entitled laziness (and perhaps a little drunkenness) in her sensual movements, attracting more than one eye while she made her rounds, scouting. Nalgen certainly did pick the oddest places to set up a contact point, and she sighed inwardly before flashing her brightest smile at the fifth rich snob she passed, barely rolling her eyes when the middle aged man grabbed her ass. Continuing on through the room, she focused on her target. Dawn needed to acquire a pass to get into the penthouse of this particular wealthy building, at which point it would be safe to contact the senator via a small skin-embedded communicator and report back on her success with the Empire. Apparently, this was the only building in the area that had the level of security necessary to conduct such secretive business set up. And only for this evening, at that. Apparently the man who had rented it out had a penchant for illegal activities and paid top dollar to shield his interests. Speaking of which, she spotted the rich mogul from her position in the middle of the club, and wasted no time in making eye contact, winking, and adoring him with a seductive smile, her lush lips curving up in a grinning pout. He stared back at her without question, and waved her over quickly. The spy took her time getting there, walking timidly and pushing her hair back behind her ear in feigned innocence when she did so, batting her lashes down, “Did.... did you want to see me?” She blushed expertly, all the while gagging inside and pushing down the insistent burn coursing through her for a stiff drink. “Yea....” the man grinned cockily, “You got somewhere else to be babe? 'Cuz I'm pretty sure you have an appointment.. in my pants..” He snorted, the gaggle of scantily clad girls giggling around him, Her eyes flashed and she grinned widely, poison practically dropping from her teeth, “Oh .. is that so...” Dawn cooed, allowing him to grab her arm and pull her into his lap where she crossed her legs so that her bare leg was displayed right under his nose. Dawn didn't even need to use any of her force-given abilities to con this loser, and it took her less than five minutes to slip the pass from his pants pocket before she disentangled herself with the promise of returning with more drinks. It was a good thing she was effective without relying on the force, for, as usual, the paranoid senator made it clear that she was to suppress all of her abilities while getting into contact with him, on the off chance that there might be someone, somewhere, that could pick up on even the smallest use of the force. He also seemed to be ever-concerned about cameras and monitoring systems picking up glitches around her if she tampered with them, so she was to remain as inconspicuous as possible. Walking steadily to the bar, she slipping through a rather dense group converging there, and angled directly into a small hallway leading to the private elevator up. The moment she had exited the room, her whole demeanor morphed, her movements become snake-like and calculating, flowing with unreasonable dexterity. She was at the elevator, unhindered, in seconds, and had swiped the pass, stepped into the elevator, and been carried to the top floor in another few seconds. Once there, she used the pass again, gaining access to the highly guarded and restricted inner sanctum. Dawn activated her contact device, waiting for mere moments before the senator's voice spoke out to her, choppy through all of the encrypted tech and distortion systems they still had to use. Her voice was cold, calculating, devoid of all emotion. “I have arranged to hunt down Karr. The Empire sanction it.” She reported curtly. “Very well. You know your mission. You will cross paths with Dargo. Make sure he doesn't draw attention to himself, or you. Make sure he stays on course. You will aid him on his missions, making any of your skills available. Guard him. Watch him, and keep the Sith from your trail.” The instructions were short, and clear, and soon after the connection broke. Dawn understood well enough. Slipping a tiny dagger from her bosom, she stabbed it into her own wrist, twisting the tip of the blade until the communications device popped out of her flesh. As soon as it was exposed to the air, it gave off a red beep and burst into quickly consumed flames. She would receive a new communicator when the senator wished to contact her once more. But now, she had a job to do. Licking the small drop of blood from the dagger, she wiped it against her dress and leaped onto the nearest surface to vault herself to the ceiling using pure acrobatics. Once she pad propped herself up in an opportune position, she slid the thin metal blade under a vent control panel, disrupting the system, and crawling through the opening in the blink of an eye. Dawn climbed quickly and soundlessly through the hatch, emerging onto the roof via access panel. Her kit was already waiting for her. Stashing the blade, she ripped the dress off and slid into her usual attire. A black one piece suit that clung tightly and moved with her better than the air-- and indeed was made to help her move through the air better. Picking the gems out of her hair, she threw them back in her bag and sealed her tools up, fetching one single item out first. Striding over to the side of the building without hesitation, she leaped off. The woman calculated her fall precisely and managed to slow her descent enough to catch on to a window about half way down, using the tool she had reserved. Swinging for a moment, she propped her legs up against the side of the building and reached into her pack with one hand to pull out a small laser and carve a space large enough for her to fit through in the large glass panel. Dawn was well on her way to the lowest levels of this establishment, and to the port that contained her chosen mode of transportation, when a guard stepped in front of her. Just her luck. She narrowed her eyes and sneered, not giving him enough time to open his mouth before she had already struck him three times in rapid succession. One, she bruised his windpipe, two, she kicked him back, her leg thrusting up to connect with his jaw in one swoop, and three, she vaulted him into the wall until his face broke through the solid barrier. The man was out, but she didn't want to risk any possible retaliation, so she swiftly broke both of his arms and every one of his fingers in a single move, before darting back down the hallway and into the servants passage. Reaching the port without further incident, she shadily drifted between those that had converged at the small bar present on the lower levels, just to conceal her movements in case anyone had noticed her. No one of importance had, but that didn't stop her from being accosted none the less. A black market dealer had caught notice of her expensive gear and approached her wryly, placing his hand on her shoulder. She grabbed his fingers, twisting his arm back and cracked the mans face into the class counter. “Ouch, ouch, I give! What the hell!” He moaned, “Don't you have any damn charm at all..” She leaned in close next to her ear and hissed, “I'll spend my charm on you when I want something from you,” shoving him once before turning to walk away, a snarl of disgust on her features. Dawn paused, looking back at the bartender. “Give me a drink.” And threw the credit at the man, grabbing up her shot and downing it in a well-practiced gulp before vanishing back into the crowds.