Ill Intent

[sparrow]

Zarene sighed as she examined her reflection in the mirror, wincing slightly as she wiped away the trickle of blood the flowed down her cheek, originating from where the plastic cover of her cybernetics met flesh. It had only been a few days since she had finally started feeling well enough to start freely walking around the bunker that the Exchange agents had set her up in. Much of her body still ached though, and despite being able to remove most of the bandages around her torso, the area around the wound was still tender. Still, she supposed she was lucky. Many others who contracted the Archeri plague, once they lay down, never got up again.

Their voices lacked the strength...., the voices in her head seemed to whisper. The sounds of the Chorus were a constant hum in the back of her mind, most of the time unintelligible, but always present. When the Spire arrives, all will be brought into the fold…

Shut up… she thought to herself as she brought the mouthpiece of the rebreather over her face, inhaling the mixture of filtered air and the vaporized bacta particles to bring a measure of relief to her lungs. Breathe in, breathe out… A few inhalations each hour, it was just a holding action. Without a full cure, it would only be a matter of time…

A few hours later…

Leaning against the wall of the alleyway, Zarene adjusted her earpiece as she glanced quickly at the Bimm who sat inside the cafe across the street, who nodded his head ever so slightly in acknowledgment, before looking away again. She had notified Sebban of her survival and location via a monitored credit line a few days ago, but it had been silence from Sith Intelligence until the coded message with accompanying earpiece arrived earlier that day. “I hope this is important,” she said.

“It could be,” came the reply. “As you know communications with Nal Hutta were cut off a few days ago before the planet fell. We had an intel team on the planet.”

“What were they working on?”

“The bugs have always had infiltrating agents on each planet before the arrival of the main force. The team was tasked in trying to determine who those agents are, and how we might be able to identify them. We have reason to think they hand something important in their hands before communications with Nal Hutta cut out. But if they were able to make it out, and are following standard procedure, their next destination is here.”

Zarene grunted in acknowledgment. The Bimm, besides being the owner of the cafe, was a local Sith intelligence agent, and the basement of his establishment functioned as a temporary safehouse. “And where do I come in?”

“I’m short on security, and I have reason to believe that if they made it out, they may be followed. If they make it here, I may not have adequate resources to protect them. With the recent events, we don’t have many operatives here at the moment...”

“So you want to plague-stricken girl to be your muscle?”

“I’m… I would never…”

Zarene quickly cut him off. “I’ll do it. You should know I’m not at my best, but instead of waiting to die, I suppose I could use a good fight.”

[Ash]

The voices. The chants. The chorus.

The power

Darmid was on the hunt, an embedded spy on Nar Shaddaa on the hunt for some turd bucket who was trying to get off world after he selfishly stole some information to be used against them. The chorus knew who the guy was... where he was. He couldn't hide from Darmid.

As it was now, the right target that Darmid was looking for, some scrawny Bimm. He couldn't hide the the force nor the Chorus, and all he needed was one set of eyes. One thread of senses and he could find anyone who was a potential threat. Especially someone like this Binn creature.

"Like me to top you off?"

A voice touched Darmids ears and he looked up to the waitress. He flashed the woman a toothy smile, holding up his mug that was two sips away from being empty of the caf he was drinking. She filled it, flashing her own smile before walking off to the next table on her little route. When she turned around and left, Darmid returned his attention to the target, adjusting the red scarf he had on. He took a sip, planning his method of attack.

[sparrow]

Glancing back towards the cafe, she could see the figure of a waitress bending down to whisper something to the Bimm, Agent Murt. As soon as the waitress left the area, Murt stood up, his tone changing. “I’ve been informed there may a small pest problem in the book room and I need to take care. The perils of running a small business, you see. Never know what sorts of unexpected difficulties can suddenly pop up.” The neon “Open” sign at the front of the cafe facing the street flickered, one of the letters changing color slightly.

Taking that as her cue, Zarene ducked around the corner, pulling the surgical mask over her face to stifle any coughing as she moved at a brisk pace. “You want me to intercept then?”

“Aye. And do call before arriving. Need to make sure to the place is clean before greeting guests.” Not exactly subtle, but the important part was that the message was understood. Murt had a reputation for being a bit paranoid, and something, or someone, must have spooked him. She removed the earpiece as she moved out of range.

The small port facility a few blocks away would be the first place to look. A refugee ship had landed less than an hour ago, and some of the passengers, those who had made it through inspections anyways, were starting to exit the building. Most had a shellshocked look about them, and considering the horrors Zarene had seen on Archeri-occupied planets, she didn’t blame them.

A few though were different, more alert, moving with purpose. Scanning the crowd as she took a few more breaths from the rebreather, she focused on one such person, a pale-skinned woman with dirty blond hair. The description matched of Agent Ven. Zarene approached slowly.

“Well you look like an iniquitous one. Looking for anything in particular?”

The woman paused, recognizing the misplaced word. “Just a place where I can have a decent meal without being disturbed and no fuss.”

“In that case I might know of such a place,” Zarene replied as the two of them moved away from the crowd and towards the alleys.

[Ash]

Something was going on. Darmid could feel the ripples through the force. There was a slight change that he was sure he would have missed had he not been in deep with the Chorus. But being together in one large family made things so much better than when he was alone. As it should be.

The Bimm moved, and Darmid didn't. He sat, idly sipping his coffee as he looked out the window. He made sure to wear an easygoing smile while he finished his cup of caf. When he was finished, he set it down, threw a few credits on the table, and left the cafe, looking at a communications pad as he grabbed the cloak he left hanging.

Once outside, the man put the pad away and put his cloak on, then he wrapped the force around him, making a cocoon around himself and effectively hiding himself from anyone who would try to sense him out. This was basically second nature to him now, and it hardly taxed the man.

Still pulling further on the force, he reached out, finding where others were, and went that way, heading towards a port facility that wasn't too far away. He thought he was feeling the Bimm from this was, but he wasn't quite sure. There were other scrapes on his mind, and he knew he had to go investigate.

And investigate he did, fallowing his senses.

[sparrow]

They moved at a brisk pace through the winding alleys of the city. As they walked, Agent Ven revealed that her group, with the Archeri hot of their heels and knowing the importance of their work, had elected to copy the data and split off individually, counting on at least one of their number to make it back to Sith space.

They rounded a corner, and Zarene raised a hand, signally a stop. Upon verifying that they were alone, she held her palm out to Ven. “The data, if you please,” she said tersely.

Ven gave her a puzzled look. “My job here is to protect you, but I’m going to need a token of trust first,” Zarene whispered. “You know as well as anyone of the bug’s use of double agents, so help me out here.”

“How do I know you’re not…”

“Because you know who I am, and that I can just take instead of ask. But I’m asking.”

Ven hesitated for a moment, but then nodded, before discreetly slipping a data chip into Zarene’s hand. “Now that that’s out of way,” Zarene said as she palmed the chip, “Murt’s is out for now. But I know of a sabacc den a block away from here where we can lay low in.” Ven nodded, and they resumed moving.

Upon paying a few credits to the doorman to gain access, the two women entered the den, the smokey air causing Zarene to cough into her mask. Tables were placed around the room, with games played at each. Players drew cards and tossed chips, as wait staff zipped about between them, passing out drinks, smokes, and small nibbles.

They both scanned the room, Ven quickly pointing out two different tables, each with an empty chair. Zarene nodded. Corner seats, good view of the entrances and each other. They separated and went to their respective seats.

[Ash]

Darmid was starting to get annoyed at this cat and mouse game. Sneaking around in the dark really wasn't his style. But he knew he needed to. For the moment. He was great at hiding himself in the force, and remaining undetected worked for hit, even if he hated it.

He fallowed his targets around the winding alleys of this dark city, the rancid air burning his nose. He pulled his scarf further up, the red tails trailing behind him.

Eventually his targets stopped; he felt them in the force cease moments. Seeing an open window above him, he leapt into it, blowing through the building and gliding around until he found the right vantage spot. He couldn't hear what anyone was saying but he could see them. When the moved, he waited a few seconds then fallowed, dropping to the ground and continuing on.

It led them right to a sabacc den. Interesting. It wouldn't be where he would go. He wasn't quite on their heels when they went in, but he didn't wait around. There was always escape routes from dens like this. Just in case shit went down. And boy, did Darmid think shit would go down. He didn't pay any money go in, but used the force, the ripples being sent out silently to influence the door man.

Upon entering, he dropped his little force cloak, letting the force ripple off of him like a waterfall. Loose objects began to float, and the smoke in the air began to expand out from Darmid.

"Everyone needs to leave. The Archeri are here and their agent needs to be exterminated"

He put force into his words, sending them out like the ripples of smoke around him.

[sparrow]

The Quarren sitting on her left let out a dissatisfied “Hmph!” as Zarene placed a single metallic chip onto the pile in the center of the table, disappointed that she had once again elected simply to call the current bet instead of a high-stakes raise. But she didn’t care if her conservative betting style bored the other players, as long as it kept her in, and allowed her to keep part of attention on the various entrances and exits.

The new arrival made no attempt to be subtle as he noisily barged into the room. Around her, several of the other players rose from their seats to head towards the exit, but most simply looked around, confused. The Quarren was one of the latter, clutching his stack of chips close to him as he tried to make sense of what was going on. On the other side of the room, the floor manager, a chubby Toydarian, turned to one of the Weequay guards. “<Call it in,>” he said in Huttese.

Lancer. It took her a few moments to recognize the intruder. A former member of the Sith, deserted too long before the treaty of Prazhi was signed. Wonder what made him finally crawl out from under his rock…

She responded to Ven’s aside glance with an ever so slight shake of her head. No, not yet. I want to see what he does first. Ven mirrored the Quarren in clutching her chips closely, but her eyes moved quickly back to scanning the room. A loud entrance often served as a distraction for a hidden blade to slip in, and they did not intend to be caught unprepared.

The Toydarian manager hovered in front of Lancer, wings flapping. “And who are ye?” he shouted, pointing a blue-skinned finger at his face. “If da bugs are here, dey can stay long as dey pay da credit an follow da rules! If dey cause trouble den we throw throw dem out! Are you tryin’ ta cause trouble?”

[Ash]

All around Darmid, people got up and left, or spoke noisily with each other, working to get their voices heard over the mass confusion of his own entrance. Some sat in confusion and looked around like lost little lambs. Lambs that would end up slaughtered if they weren't careful.

From his side, a rather fat Toydarian flew up to him, not scared in the slightest at Darmid's provocation. His eyes looked at the smaller alien, flapping with his finger pointing at Darmid. He ignored him for a moment, eyes scanning the emptier room again, and his eyes landed on Zarene.

There you are...

"I am sorry for barging in. I am an undercover Jedi. And you don't want the Archeri here. They will simply kill you and turn you into one of them, and you will have no credits. No job. Nothing. If you want to keep making money and staying happy, let me do my job of taking getting rid of your fungus infestation."

From under Darmid clothing came a long hilted lightsaber, the hilt just shy of 2 feet long, and a magenta blade emitted from it. it, casting the room in a mild glow. The hilt was obviously of Sith make, taken from one of the Sith not that long ago. When needed, it would extend to a spear, but this worked for now. His eyes were on Zerene and who she was with.

[sparrow]

She could feel the tone of the Chorus in her head change he channeled the Force. Explains a lot, actually.

As he attempted to pass himself as an undercover Jedi, Zarene quickly lowered her head to take a deep breath from her rebreather to keep from coughing. Now that’s a bullshit story if I ever heard one…

Evidently the Toydarian seemed to agree. “So yer a Jedi?” he spat, “Well what’s yer name, Jedi? And dis isn’t Naboo where ye wave yer fingas saying ‘Ooo Imma Jedi’ an folks let ye rifle der pockets! Yous got papers from da Compeer?” But a quick look at Lancer’s now activated lightsaber sent him flapping away. The room plunged into silence.

Zarene sighed. It was going to end in a fight one way or another. Under normal circumstances she wouldn’t have cared. It’s wasn’t as if she was a stranger to killing. But her current health meant she was weaker than normal, and if Lancer really was an Archeri thrall, he would be stronger. Maybe strong enough to tip the scales in his favor.

She took a deep breath, and pushed the table outwards as she rose from her seat. Now’s not the time to project any weakness. Strength only. Spotlight on me now. Lowering the mask from her face, she looked him in the eye. “His name is Darmid Duibhne, and he’s not a Jedi,” she said, her voice steady, directed to the Toydarian and the remaining patrons who still remained. “He’s a Sith deserter, one who is showing a very… uncharacteristic amount of initiative.” She picked up a pair of metal chips from her pile on the table, which danced between her metallic fingers.

“You want to prove you’re not an Archeri, deserter? Then we can wait for the Exchange’s enforcers to arrive and they can test us both for infection. Or you can take a swing at me, and I’ll put you in the ground.”

[Ash]

The room cleared fairly quickly at the activation of his lightsaber, the Toydarian running away. That was fine. He was useless in the immediate moment. He didn't leave completely, but rather decided to stay away from them. That was smart too. Some of the other patrons stayed as well.

"That hurts, my dear. After all we have been through years passed."

Darmid let the lightsaber turn off, pulled up a chair, and sat down at the table surprisingly. The saber he sat in his lap, then he intertwined his finders, setting his head on top of his hands.

"You're pretty ill aren't you. The Plague has you sick. I'm not going to fight you. I simply came for your friend. In fact, pretty sure we could help you."

[sparrow]

Her eyes flickered briefly to the seat where Ven had been sitting. Empty, it’s former occupant having taken advantage of the prior commotion to melt into the crowd. Smart.

She watched as he sat down, choosing to remain standing herself. “Help me?” she arched an eyebrow questionly. “Unless that involves you leaving, I don’t see how you can.” Even if he hadn’t just changed his story for the second or third time, she found his words lacking in credibility.

Her body betrayed her with a cough, but she quickly swallowed it back down again.

“The one you’re looking for,” she continued. “You won’t find them, unless you go through me. And I’m sure the Exchange’s enforcers are on their way here as we speak, so time’s ticking.” She held up her hand, the two chips she had been holding floating up from her palm and beginning to orbit her hand slowly, and she waited to see what he would do.

[Ash]

"I believe you are quite deaf. Or stupid. Do the words, 'I am not going to fight you' not translate well into basic?"

Darmid rubbed his chin in thought, his cold eyes looking over this lady casually. She tried to threaten him with saying that Exchange enforcers were on their way over here. Of course to try to tear Darmid a new one. If she was even telling the truth, he wasn't worried.

"I think I'm going towards the stupid part. So. Lets make this simple. Send your enforce out. That's fine. Your buddy is ours. I think I will just have a special friend go after them... or maybe I will and have him mess with you."

Darmid chuckled and leaned back further in his chair, putting a foot on the edge of the table to relax a little bit more. He still had his guard up, but he was playing like there wasn't a care in the world.

[sparrow]

As she made no move to initiate combat, he began resorting to crude insults and vague threats. Is he trying to get a rise out me? she wondered. It didn't matter. She knew what her objectives were. Ven was a trained operative. Zarene could trust her to be able to handle herself. As long as Lancer sat here, he wasn't pursuing her.

The Toydarian would have sent an alert to the Exchange higher-ups as soon as Lancer had drawn his lightsaber. The Exchange took its gambling dens quite seriously, and somehow they seemed to have quite the supply of Force-wielding enforcers operating in this particular area. Two of them, who called themselves Thelonius and Draco, had been there at the clinic where Imago had brought them following the mission on Teth. If even one of them showed up, Lancer would quickly find himself heavily outmatched.

That’s all it was. A waiting game.

Keeping her guard up, she extended her senses through the Force over the surrounding area. Perhaps he really had a “special friend,” although more likely it was just another lie. No other Force-sensitives in the area, as far as she could tell. There were those who would try to hide their presences in the Force, but they often left ripples that could be detected to those whose senses were sharp enough and were paying enough attention. Zarene knew these sorts of things were never certain, but she had to work with what she had. If any other Force sensitive threats revealed themselves, she would be ready to intercept. Any lesser threats, she’d have to thrust Ven to take care of herself.

_________

The back of the building was a maze of dimly lit hallways and passages. Ven moved quickly, doing her best to make good time while appearing casual. Venturing inside what appeared to be a back office, she found what she was looking for: a functional terminal.

It was time to move to Plan B. The data was too important, and as long as she was the only one who had it, then she would have a target on her back. She had heard the rumors that the Empire, Republic, Exchange, and other major factions were contemplating an alliance. Even if such an alliance never materialized, the Archeri needed to be stopped somehow, somewhere.

Pulling out a pair of security spikes, she went to work on the terminal. If she couldn’t make to Kaas herself to place it in the hands of the Darths, then the next best thing, as long as she was stuck on this moon, was to upload it onto the Exchange’s network, and make sure it would reach someone in a position of power to use it...

[Ash]

"Not a word? nothing? Just going to stand there all stoic like. Shit. Well you're no fun."

Lancer used the force to grab a bottle of alcohol and fly it to him, where he took a shallow draw. It was stronger than he was use to and he cringed slightly, then tossed it over his shoulder, the bottle clanking around and dumping its contents out. The taste it left on his tongue wasn't that good either. Must have been made for Humans or something.

"You know princess, you could talk a little more. Its kinda boring to have a conversation by myself. Wait... wheres the Toydarian at. They like to talk. Oi! Toydarian! let us in on a story!"[/i]

Lancer's personality seemed to have skewed slightly, becoming more easygoing and talkative. Perhaps it was the group consensus that was the Archeri group mind and everything. It may have been to get more engaging with Zarene.

------======------======------======------

Out back where Ven was, they were not alone. But Ven didn't know that quite yet. It was on the rooftops just above, three shadowy characters duking it out like schoolyard kids, except for one had a massive sword, against two with normal vibroblades. They were getting pushed around despite the speed advantage, and with one swift attack, the two opposite of the large sword user were batted down, their skulls crushed and they were tossed from the roof. They fell down, slamming into the ground and shattering their broken bodies.

The third man jumped down, landing much lighter than the bodies, obviously a force user, and looked at Ven. Eyes nor face could be seen from under the dark brown cloak he wore, giving the figure a mysterious look. They put the sword on their back, it sticking there by some unseen force, and turned to leave. He stepped over a purple ringed eye that somehow rolled all the way to where he landed. He kicked it off towards Ven before he truly left them to do their business.

[sparrow]

“C’mon c’mon c’mon,” Ven muttered to herself as her fingers tapped away on her datapad, selecting one program after another to send through the security spike that she had plugged into the terminal’s front port in an attempt to over the terminal’s built in security.

The terminal’s screen flickered, the interface indicating readiness to accept a file for upload onto the network. She selected the data file, triggering the appearance of a progress bar that crept forward ever so slightly. Sigh… This was going to take a while…

A sudden commotion coming from the building’s upper levels cause her body to tense up. Thumping footsteps accompanied by metallic clangs, the unmistakable sounds of combat. Heart pounding loudly in her chest, she crept around to the other side of the desk, trying to put some cover between herself and the door, as her hand slowly reached towards her blaster.

_____________________

The Toydarian, peeking up slightly from behind the counterly, looked nervously at Lancer, and then at Zarene. “I’d advise staying back there,” she said curtly, and his head quickly retreated behind the counter once more.

She instinctively looked to the side as she felt a sudden tingle in the back of her neck, before quickly returning her gaze back forwards again. Danger. Approaching threat. She didn’t know what it was, but she would have to react, and react quickly.

As Lancer took a draw from the bottle, she flicked her hand forward, as flows to telekinetic force energy exploded outwards from her palm, fling the tables in the room up and forwards toward Lancer, obscuring her from his sight. At the same time, the two metallic chips that had been orbiting her hand shot upwards, the first ricocheting off the ceiling to shatter the bottle in his hand. The second struck the lighting panels of the room, plunging their surrounding into darkness.

Before the tables hit the floor, she had taken off through the back door of the room, plotting a course to intercept the coming threat. The door slammed behind her, an invisible force engaging the lock mechanism. It wouldn’t hold Lancer long if he chose to pursue, but every second counted.

__________________

Ven steadied her breathing as she crouched behind the test, blaster in hand. The progress bar on the terminal hardly seemed to move at all.

A crash from above, and the ceiling of the hallway collapsed as a falling body fell through and hit the ground with a thump. It was quickly followed by another, and a third, this one alive. The main was of average height and broad shoulders, wearing a cloak that concealed his face in shadow. Her hands trembled slightly as she raised her blaster warily.

__________________

Zarene coughed as a cloud of dust filled the hallway. She could sense a heavy, threatening presence around the corner. Her hand moved towards the lightsaber on her belt.

[Ash]

As Lancer took a drink, Zarene used the force, throwing a telekenetic blast throughout the room and flipping tables, as well as the one he was at. It hit Lancer as well, who took it in stride, letting it push him back and he added his own, flipping over fully and landing in a crouch. Immediately after, he stood up, a laughing coming from him. It grew louder and louder, booming with the force.

"YOU CAN'T ESCAPE US ALL, ZARENE!"

His laughter boomed out even as Zarene ran off. Letting it die off to a chuckle, Lancer turned to leave the bar. There was no reason for him to be sticking around here. The Archeri were on there way, with all the force of the spire. It would be a matter of days before they arrived and the planet was taken over.

----------

The mysterious figure turned towards Ven slowly, red eyes lighting up as if they were searching or scanning.

"You are not as the others. No target."

That was all it said, in a clear, synthesized voice. A droid, searching and killing those who he deemed his targets. No wonder it took the fall like a champ. It too began to fully wander away once more.