Cinnagar City Side Bets

[Neology]

”It-it's funny how you never notice something like air conditioning, uh, until it's gone.” Madaline Asto, an elderly Arkanian woman and CEO of Highsteller-Eastdyne Productions, trailed off in a thready whisper. A drop of sweat ran down from her heavily cemented updo and tracked its way down her cheek. She was silent for a long moment, head tilted, rubbing her cheek against the starched edge of her collar. ”Little shit could have at least left us the air conditioning,” she muttered, full of sullen vehemence.

Novus nodded her head in vague agreement, too focused on the cuffs around her wrists for words. She couldn't see them, but they were a little bit too loose – a fact she'd found encouraging for the first hour and a frustration in the second and third. It had been years since she'd last needed to slip a cuff, and as with any unpracticed skill it had started to fade over time.

Well, that's what she told herself anyway. It was easier to accept than the growing worry at the back of her mind, the thought that the damage Paxis had done to her hands might have been more permanent then she'd realized. Swearing, she tried again. Right thumb folded in, she wiggled the metal loop back and forth until it stuck, caught on the joint and the ball of muscle below it.

… This cover is blown anyway. Novus took a deep breath, drawing on the Force for strength. With one quick motion, she pulled her hand free, teeth set against the pain.

“What are- Arjha! You're free.” Mrs. Asto perked up in her seat. The older woman leaned forward as far as her restraints would allow, squinting in the dim. “Oh, dear. You're bleeding.”

“It's not that bad.” She answered automatically, bringing both wrists up to examine the damage, cuffs dangling uselessly from the left. Novus leaned down pull loose the knotted cable that secured her legs to the chair. She got to her feet slowly, a touch unsteady after hours of forced inactivity.

“Mrs. Asto, would you excuse me a moment?” Without waiting for a response, Novus scooped up her briefcase from where it had been knocked in the initial scuffle. Madeline's unpleasant grandson and his hired goons had missed it - thanks to a little unsubtle telepathy. Having no desire to run into said goons again, at least while unarmed, Novus headed deeper into the office and into Mrs. Asto's private bathroom. Propping the case up on the sink, she quickly punched in the code. The lid swung open, revealing a loose datapad and two long metal cylindars, one inset with ivory, the other inset with dark pieces of polished wood. Novus grabbed one and flicked it on, bringing the ruby blade to life. Very carefully, she burned off the right cuff and most of the links between.

[DreadPirateMike]

Well, it sure was nice to be back in the Core. Even for somebody with battle as deeply ingrained into his identity as it was with Jaidan Shantani, that was not the same thing as enjoying bloodshed, and as such, it WAS nice to occasionally have a productive excuse to get away from the war for awhile. And besides, it was always good to remind oneself what they were fighting FOR. It was relaxing and uplifting to be reminded that the civilized peace he defended still endured, that some people could still take their little problems and soft creature comforts for granted.

It HAD been nice, rather.

He'd come to Empress Teta as a rather direct response to the Sith attack which had struck an entire war materiel factory from the sky earlier that year, to say nothing of the souls aboard. It had been an uneasy suspicion to the authorities at large even before that, and a chilling certainty among Jaidan's contacts at SIS that the battlefields of the Outer Rim represented only one theater, albeit the most imminently costly, of the war as a whole. Well within what was commonly accepted as the Republic's sphere of security and unchallenged control, the Sith waged an elaborate and eclectic secondary campaign of sabotage, subversion, embezzlement and more. In truth, Jaidan was ill-equipped to understand all the intricacies involved; he simply had to remind himself that the Republic's own operatives were off pursuing similar tactics, distasetful but necessary, and have faith that it would all balance itself out in the end. In the meantime, however, lacking a true grasp of the big picture did not mean he was utterly without insight. While no Shadow himself, he was familiar with some of the unique tools they had at their disposal.

Hard won familiarity, that. Even now, Belsavis still rankled, if he let it. So, he had been dispatched to initiate a comprehensive security review of some major military contractors on Empress Teta. He'd not expected to be here long. This was a long-term project, and there were any number of equally qualified Jedi available upon request. The Council's decision to sit out the war hardly bound them to turn a blind eye to the threat of terrorism in the Deep Core. Just a couple weeks of fun, hands on (What better way to see if a secure facility was really secure than to see if he could break in himself?) work with no actual lives at stake. Decent meals, soft beds, and maybe he could even catch a couple of swoop races before he made his way back to the front lines.

Unfortunately, it had taken all of three days to discover the security at Highsteller-Eastdyne Productions woefully lacking. The police on the scene had been hopeful that a Jedi Knight might be helpful in diffusing the situation. Jaidan was confident his involvement would certainly have SOME impact in proceedings, and had made his way in once he got word the exits were properly secured. In his experience, the sight of Jedi robes was seldom ignored; the only question was whether that made things better or worse. Honestly, so long as he could ensure none of the hostages were hurt, either one might work just fine for him once he was inside. And in that sense, things were going well.

"So!" he began pleasantly, studiously avoiding the sweep of his hands that might normally have accompanied such a gesture. No sense agitating the nervous trigger fingers resting upon the triggers of the five blasters pointed ah him. "You're the host. Only polite to let you start. What precisely are your demands?"

"They're not just MY demands, Jedi!" That would be young Fandul Asto, heir to the company prior to the recent buyout begotiations. Evidently the ringleader before he even opened his mouth by the well-tailored clothes, a step above the toughs in his employ, not to mention his pistol brandished in the company of riflemen. A Nova Model 22, if he wasn't mistaken; nice and light, the typical priority for a soft and uncalloused hand that had plainly never done a day's actual work. Fandul's fear of potentially having to start seemed the obvious root cause of all this, but even so, his spiel had clearly been rehearsed, and he'd not be deterred from getting it all out. "Honest native businessmen across Empress Teta have been demanding this government take action for years! I'm simply the first to accept that nobody in the halls of power is listening! Generation upon generation, we've been here! But now, this offworld trash comes in. No knowledge of our traditions, our values, and no interest in learning! And the government does nothing. My own family sells out to the offworlders! Well, I'm taking a stand right here!"

"For the INDIGENOUS Arkanians of Empress Teta?"

Fandul's hand tightened on his blaster. The neurons desperately tried to fire in the heads of everyone else as they tried to process that. Jaidan called upon his training, and managed to avoid rolling his eyes. For once, just mind tricking his way through this might actually be a viable solution, if it came to that. It had not escaped his notice that in spite of his genuine enough outrage, the Arkanian hadn't actually answered his question. Likely as not, Fandul had just assumed he'd figure something out as far as how a confirmed felon was supposed to run the family business. Jaidan pressed on ahead before anyone could say anything else that made his head hurt.

"Well, I believe it's my turn. I'm sure we all know the procedure from whatever crime novels we favor. I'm not authorized to negotiate anything until I've confirmed, with my own eyes, that the hostages remain unharmed."

That, at least, Asto HAD apparently thought of, and my the smug nod, it seemed his success in getting something right had reinforced his delusion that this situation could long remain in his control. He nodded imperiously to a vacant eyes brick wall of a human...something reptilian. He wasn't familiar with the species, but his (?) involvement in this idiocy did not suggest anything encouraging about general intelligence levels.

"You stay here, Jedi. Van, Kiik, bring them out."

It was really quite remarkable, how quickly things went from well in hand to utterly forked. Fortunately, Jaidan knew it before anyone else in the room. One moment, he felt nothing out of the ordinary; the next, his head gaze shot to the door through which Van and Kiik had exited less than a minute prior, as a new presence in the Force materialized as if from nowhere. A moment later, muffled shouts carried back to them, anger and alarm detectable in equal measures despite the walls in the way. A moment after that, more damning still, the sound of hurried and undisciplined blaster fire. Panic.

All eyes left in the room fell on Jaidan a moment later, but the thinking of the hostage takers, starved of any actual information to go on, had not evolved past "Something's wrong. Do...SOMETHING about the Jedi." Said Jedi, on the other hand, had already reached out with his right hand to telekinetically rip the light blaster from Asto's slack grip, even as his left elbow struck out behind him, deftly finding the nose of the gunman directly behind him. The one to whom he had turned over his foils without complaint before being admitted. Even as the man staggered back, instinctively pressing his hands against the injury, the second rifleman hurriedly took aim and fired, succeeding only putting an abrupt end to his partner's suddenly bad day. The Echani target blurred to the side, leaving only the bleeding thug's barrel chest for a target. Before the surviving rifle toter could line up a second shot, two quick thuds signalled an end to the effort. The thud of Jaidan's new blaster being hurled with unforgiving precision at the criminal's forehead, and the thud of his limp form hitting the carpeted floor. In Fandul's defense, this had all happened over the course of perhaps a second and a half, but regardless, he was too slow in tearing his horrified gaze away from the fall of his private goon squad, and remembering that a Jedi Knight was still in the room with him. The last thing he saw was a black gloved fist approaching his face with rapid speed.

"This is Shatani!" he yelled into his comm to the police Captain waiting outside, even as he quickly knelt down over the smoking body and retrieved his light foils. After a heartbeat's consideration, he reached out and recalled the Nova blaster as well. You never knew. Then, he was through the door, and rushing toward that new presence. "Move in! Medical attention required. And advise extreme caution for your men on the perimeter! I suspect another Force Sensitive on the premises."

It didn't take long to find the proper room, and whether or not he'd had the Force to guide him likely would have mattered little with the smell of ozone that strong from heavy blaster fire in a relatively enclosed space. Nor did he need to wonder why the blaster fire had gone silent by the time he arrived, as he threew the door open, and spied the inert forms of Van and Kiik. He knew better than most, only one weapon made wounds like that.

"You're a long way from home." he announced in an even tone to the only likely suspect on the scene, one who looked very much ready to be anywhere else. The woman presented a sight entirely incongruous with the grisly scene he was now advancing forward into, prim and proper in an admitredly somewhat rumpled but nontheless obviously expensive business suit. And classically gorgeous, of course. Sadly, that counted for little. The second observation in particular had heralded encounters at his expence before, and in seemingly far more favorable circumstances.

"And not, I think, owing to a wrong turn after Vaal."