Revs cursed as he ran his fingers over the small bumps forming on the datapad laid on his desk. His black armor was unpolished and dented, and it looked as if he hadn’t worn it quite some time. The Miraluka had a different aura around him now though. The care free man that was Qel-Droma’ss Aedile seemed to have changed, his shoulders tighter, his brow furrowed. His two lightsabers hung openly on his hips ready to be pulled at the moment’s notice.
The situation was bad. Wyn had been captured, with no word if he was dead or alive. Zig had taken the Voidbreakers and a rescue team to lead an assault on whoever had launched this attack. Still…smaller ships were landing around Port Ol'Val. At first glance it looked like a small scale invasion, but upon closer inspection of the reports Revs could tell it wasn’t.
Each ship had small squads of no more than five disembarking, all of them heading off in different directions. It was obvious that they were not a coordinated military unit but individual groups each with their own targets. That in itself was a load off the Shadesworns mind.
Revs had called all the troops that were stationed in the port to orders, even the ones who were off duty. The first part of his plan was to first send out squads to launch a counter attack and intercept the enemy before they decided to organize. The second part was more to deliver a message. The Qel-Droman artillery units would set up positions and bomb the living Force out the enemies ships, showing that there would be no retreat after starting this suicide mission they were on.
Revs focused his breathing and ran his fingers through his hair….now it was just time to wait for everyone to get here.
Mune’s eyes scanned the movements of strangers through the regular population of the port. Studiously watching, making note, gauging the potential danger they represented with their presence in Qel-Droman territory. The white-furred Cythraul had become a common sight in the port. It was assumed the creature belonged to one of the port’s denizens. They turned their head, ruby eyes tracing the path of yet another ship arriving. They wondered if this one, like many in the last hour, contained still more bounty hunters.
Let them come, Mune thought. They, like those that came before, will learn…
“Keeping an eye out for trouble again, girl?”
Mune’s ears turned toward the sound of the familiar voice. It was enough of a distraction from their vigil to recall they had a brief to get to. The Cythraul’s nostrils flared, the scent of something rich and delicious filling their nose. The scent was followed by a strip of meat. Saliva filled the Cythraul’s maw. The merchant left the bloody treat for the vigilant canine before carrying on with his usual business.
The Shistavanen entered Revs’ office, licking the remnants of blood from their lips.
“Where were you?”
“Wound a little tight?” Mune commented. “I am not that late.”
“With all these bounty hunters setting foot in the port.”
“I am more than aware. I have been down there all morning,” the Shistavanen found a bit of wall to lean against.
“And?” Revs took a breath.
“And? There are a lot of bounty hunters setting foot in the port.”
The Miraluka arched a brow.
The holographic image of Marick Tyris Arconae flickered into life next to Rev’s desk.
“Cinteroph. Revs,” he greeted calmly. “I regret I cannot lend aid physically but I will be on comms to assist with anything if needed.”
In the background flickering of the holographic image, two children ran circles around the Hapan while using him as a jungle gym. His face remained impassive.
Perhaps to Aedile Revs’ chagrin, a coordinated unit did eventually arrive in the Shadow Port. The sublight thrusters of a modified VT-49 Decimator emitted a low growl as the ship, named the Erinos’ Oath, moored within an empty hangar within the port. Shortly after the cargo ramp deployed, a unit of twelve soldiers dressed in the striking green and black of the Arconan Armed Forces marched into Ol'val proper with rifles in hand. At least two of them proudly wore the symbol of Clan Erinos on their armor.
Leading the group was Starosta Erinos, the second-in-command of House Galeres. “Coordinate with the Qel Droman forces here. We’re here to support, so follow their lead unless they give you a reason not to.” Once the soldiers confirmes their understanding with a nod and salute, Bril turned to find the office of his Qel Droman counterpart.
“Can anyone tell me how this happened?” he asked, tone a bit forceful but by no means rude. “Bounty hunters kidnap the Quaestor of Qel Droma, a member of the Confederacy’s Trustees Committee. And to make matters worse, they’re bold enough to launch an attack on the port after kidnapping its highest ranking official?”
The other members of the Assembly were going to have a frakking field day with this one. Many were already looking for any opportunity to question Arcona’s standing in the Dajorran Confederacy. This incident would not doubt undermine the clan’s reputation amongst its peers.
Bril looked from Revs, then to Mune, whom he acknowledged with a slight nod, recognizing them as a member of the Confederacy’s Gethsemane Council.
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Revs worked his jaw trying to find the right words to say, but nothing came to mind in that moment. The Miraluka wasn’t exactly sure what an eye twitch felt like but the spasming muscle around his empty left socket made him think he was having one.
“Yea buddy I’m wound a little tight, but I’m glad you were able to get eyes on what’s going on.” He addressed Mune before turning to Marick. “Master I’m glad to have your input here.”
Revs then turned back to Bril and smiled. “Just a misunderstanding, unpaid bar tab or something I’m sure of it. But hey, I greatly appreciate the timely arrival.”
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Marick nodded once. “I’ll be on comms as needed. Good luck, Aedile.”
His feed blinked out.
Mune shifted their gaze toward Bril, the Galeres Aedile. They gave a nod to the Zabrak, meanwhile deliberating whether they were pleased or not at the added firepower the man brought with him. The Shista did not like the thought of the port getting shot up and innocents being caught in the crossfire. Of course, they used the term innocents loosely.
“Wyn things gone wrong,” was their contribution. “Truly, nothing out of the ordinary for the particular Tyris in question.”
Mune glanced at the now silent holoprojector. “As for the bounty hunters setting foot in our territory… It is safe to assume they have particular targets in mind. As such… we already have our bait to draw them out into the open. We turn that into an advantage.”
The Qel-Droman called the port home when they were not living on the Voidbreaker II. It stood to reason they had a deeper understanding of the port overall. Its secret passages and hidden corridors, the people, weapon stashes and safe houses. Mune had no doubts that these bounty hunters knew their stuff and did their homework. It stood to reason they would have made a grab for whatever intel they could manage.
“Have we secured crucial systems and infrastructure? Power. Communications. We should also ensure our primary hidden routes are properly guarded against potential enemy infiltration,” The Shista spoke as they analyzed, as if checking off a to-do list. “Bril?” Mune grinned, expecting the other intellect in the room to continue their thought.
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Bril blinked. “You mean this kind of thing is normal for Wyn?” Two fingers found the bridge of his nose when both Mune and Revs all but confirmed as much with their expressions. “Force help us all.”
“I’m just here for support, so I’ll go wherever you all need me. Though, I would suggest making sure the people of Ol'val are safe in the likely event fighting spills out into the streets.”
“Got a plan for that.” Revs started to tap on the data pad and a small holographic map of the Port appeared over the desk. “There’s an abandoned warehouse here.” He pointed to an old building a couple blocks from the landing zones. It’s close enough to where I hope to contain the fighting for use to quickly extract any wounded, and it will be easy to defend should we need a fall back point. We will need soldiers for guard duty and any medical supplies or available staff needs to head there.“
He tapped a few more buttons and groups of red dots appeared, most were still gathered by the ships but a couple had moved out into the port itself.
"Intel shows that the larger groups have not moved out yet but this one here” the Miraluka pointed to a group of dots on the west side of the city. “Reports are saying that it’s a group of three Gamorreans. They don’t seem to have any real direction, just kicking in doors looking for targets.”
Revs pointed to the next dot. These here seem to be five Duros teamed up. Looks like they are heading to where some of the old tunnels down here used to be. Most of those should be collapsed but there are some still active. We will need to cut them off fast.“
Mune studied the map carefully.
“It is safe to assume we do not know exactly who their targets are, then, be that as it may,” The Shistavanen eyed the holographic image of the warehouse, making note of all passages in and out of the structure. “The warehouse is as good a place as any to draw their attention. I can support.”
“If we split up, we’ll be able to cover more ground. We can route the two groups and lead them back to the warehouse so we can neutralize them quickly and efficiently.”
“I’m sending six of our troops with you, Mune, to help cover you,” he said to his Shistavanen ally, “I’ll be taking the rest with me to intercept the group of duros.” He paused to extend his hand to shake Mune’s, gripping it tightly while saying, “May the Force be with you.”
Then, he used one of his beskar vambraces to access the encrypted comlink channel that he and the AAF troop had access to. After sending out a message to let his soldiers know that their assignment, he also patched both Mune and Revs into the channel.
“Stay in touch.”
After that, Bril took off in the direction of the duros’ last known location, with six AAF soldiers trailing behind him.
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Mune watched Bril head out before shifting their gaze to the troops. How were they going to be sneaky with six soldiers tagging along? The Shistavenen nodded to them before they glanced back at Revs. “I will look into the Gamorreans then.”
Revs watched as the two groups set out for their missions. “May the Force be with you.” He mumbled
Mune frowned. Their eyes took in the sight of busted in doors. Of upturned livelihoods. It could have been so much worse, Mune knew. All to well. The Shistavanen skimmed the wreckage before their eyes turned to the gathered port folk.
It was a relief that so few were injured. Scrapes and bruises healed quick enough. A blood head wound and broken arm… they too could have been far worse. Even so, Mune approached.
These were people they lived among. Scents and faces that made up their community. Their territory.
They smoothed their fur, calming their hackles and lifting their ears. Smiling lightly to a woman overseeing the two most grievously wounded before beckoning the Force to their call.
It whispered through them. Gentle. Cool. Calm.
“This will hurt, I promise, it will help,” their voice was soft, soothing, silk and fur.
Mune grasped the broken arm. Their power trickled into the man. The healer set the bone with a crack, the Force rose up. It responded to the Oracle’s whims, responded to the protectiveness, the kindness. Bone knit and came back together.
Mune shifted their focus to the unconscious one. They touched the man’s bloody skull and focused the Force where it was needed.
It was perhaps a good thing Mune’s healing powers were advanced and acted quickly… the troops their were allotted looked to be getting twitchy with impatience.
“Thank you,” one woman said in relief.
“The men. They were demanding information about a Zygerrian and a Miraluka.” The other woman said. “These two were only trying to protect others.”
“I understand,” Mune whispered. “We are here to stop this…”
One of the woman pointed. It was not necessary considering the path of distraught people and damaged property. Mune rose, drawing their hood up so only their muzzle and their ears poking through the ear holes could be made out. Their eyes narrowed, “Let us hunt our quarry and stop this nonsense quickly.”
Mune led the soldiers at a brisk pace.
Revs watched the dots moving on his maps. “Ok Munes squad has moved in on the Gamorreans…good.” He mumbled to himself. He qued up his comlink “Bril the Duros have moved into the old wearhouse district. I’m sending you the quickest routes through the tunnels to intercept.”
So much chaos. So much fear. Bril had only been to Port Ol'val a few times; he didn’t know its people the way he did those on Selen, but the fear and panic he felt looming in the Force like thick smog was all too familiar to him. Suffering transcended borders.
No more.
Upon spotting the group of duros, Bril didn’t hesitate to leap right into the middle of them. One tried to raise his blaster to get a shot off, but Bril locked his wrist into a vice and wrenches his arm aside. The blaster shot went wide, burning a hole in the ground before Bril knocked him out cold with a hard backhand across the jaw. The next bounty hunter fail with a blindingly fast and precise combination of punches that left her crumbled on the floor.
The Force screamed a warning to him, and he reacted instinctively by ducking a crimson tibanna bolt meant for his head. Then, his squad of AAF troopers leveled their rifles on the remaining three bounty hunters and, with cold precision, dispatched them with well placed stun bolts. Their bodies hit the floor with muffled thuds, frozen in place.
Bril looked at the defeated group with a scowl. They would pay for their crimes today. He’d make sure of that. He tapped his vambrace to switch his comlink on.
“The duros have been neutralized. Where should we rendezvous?”
“It looks like the rest are starting to organize. Reports are saying that a Transdoshan armed with a heavy repeater is making the calls. I’m sending the rest of the troops to surround the space port. Rendezvous with the troops and get ready.” Revs directed.
“On our way.”
Bril gestured for the troopers to follow before heading off toward the space port.
Mune found themself watching three men overturning yet another shop. The Shistavanen motioned for the soldiers to halt before they could enter. There was no point making a bigger mess by pulling weapons in there. No… they had other things in mind.
Mune extended both hands. The Force whispered through them. A familiar brush of power, like a lover, whispering in their ear. Fur brushing against fur. Mune grinned impishly, a flash of vulpine teeth. They had them.
The Force snapped went taught, like a chain that wrapped around the men, and Mune held the other end. They yanked.
Violently, two men were whipped from the shop. They flew through the door and out into the thoroughfare. The wind whistled in their ears. Cries of surprise cut off by faceplanting into a wall behind the Shistavanen.
The Oracle pulled tight on the third chain, trying quick to tug the third the same he did the other two but the man only stumbled.
“Well then. Guess you and I get to have a conversation them, my friend.” Mune brushed off the mild inconvenience with a wave of a hand. “Care to fill us in on the grand plan you and yours have here in our fair port?”
The Gamorrean squealed loudly. His eyes darted to outside the shop to his two fallen comrades, then to the Qel'Droman soldiers before coming back to rest on Mune. It shuffled its feel nervously as if trying to decided what to do. “Blind man,” it grunted as it pointed an electro baton at the Shistavanen. “Give now!”
Mune arched a brow, hidden by their cowl. After the Blind Man, so it is not just a Zygerrian and a Miraluka they are after.
“Apologies, but that won’t be happening,” Mune said with a smile. “You see. We do not take too kindly to folks coming around and upturning the lives of the fine folks living here. This is our territory, their lives…”
The Shistavanen’s smile turned once more into a grin, their voice taking on the slightest edge of a growl. They were by no means intimidating, not like Caleb or any number of other folks in Arcona… They were, however, unpredictable… wild. Something feral filled their eyes as their grin widened. “Now… what say you tell me what it is you want with the Miraluka and Zygerrian, hmm? What was the plan for when you finally found them?”
Their eyes were fixed on the man, seeing him, but also seeing the myriad possibilities of what he might do. “Talk quickly, leave nothing out, and you may walk out of here instead of being carried out like your buddies.”
What could be described as a smile came across the the bounty hunters pig like face. “Get Credits. Lots of Credit. "You all worth something.”
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Mune’s eyes narrowed, “You may wish to renegotiate your rate…”
They grasped at the Force, preparing something. If they could get around it, they would prefer to avoid a full-on fight. It was obvious they were not going to gain much more from this guy. The shadows shifted around the man. Mune wove an illusion around him, the shadows seeming to swell and grow, claws extending out from the darkness, brushing the man, chilling him. A deep growl filled his ears, suggesting the looming of a massive beast at the man’s back.
“Go back to your ship… or learn what it means to set foot, uninvited, in our territory.” The illusory snarl at the man’s back grew more threatening. The shadow towered well over the intruder.
The Gameorrean seemed to panic and waddled in what looked like he was trying to sprint, out of the door toward the port.
Mune was satisfied that the shops were safe for the time being. They wasted no time leading the soldiers toward the port proper, where they were certain they would meet up with Bril again. It was perhaps time to escort the rest of their uninvited guests back off the docks. “Keep following this thoroughfare, you’ll arrive at the dock before long. I will meet you there.”
The Shistavanen picked up their pace before dropping to the ground as a white-furred Cythraul. If the soldiers did not think the Shista was odd before… She glanced back at the soldiers before bolting off down an alley, making her solitary way.
It was not long before Mune came to look over the usually bustling port. It was still busy, except, there was something more urgent, off, about it. It was not business as usual. The Cythraul’s eyes looked out over the people. Nearly all unfamiliar. A tinge of anxiety from the familiar ones. The feeling of the place was not right. Minutes passed, and Mune spied the soldiers that they had been accompanying. The Cythraul skirted the people, looking for the Trandoshan… and Bril. Looking for their opportunity. Who would pay heed to an unaccompanied beast, afterall?