Zr listened in on idle chatter, as well as hearing some mention of something named Fissure being used maliciously against Skorrow - and no doubt, it would result in there being two less Sith Lords in the galaxy and Skorrow increasing his holdings. Considering the context, that was most likely the name of the operation, but with the droid knowing better than to attempt to search the holonet for top secret Sith operations, the nature of said Fissure would remain a mystery unless one of those discussing it slipped up, or happened to be transmitting information regarding it. However, whatever sort of plan Fissure was, it could prove a useful distraction that the strike team could utilize.
On that note, the droid once again allocated more of its idle cycles towards running simulations of various types of detonations in a refresher. This time it would use a different model than the previous times, this one having a better estimate of how the building materials would react when taking into account changes in heat. Obviously, in the unlikely event such models would be used and the droid had more detailed information on Skorrow, the results would need to be slightly modified, as the programming's current set of conditions assumed that the target in simulations of both the primary and secondary effects bore a striking resemblance to a certain Shistavanen. Regardless, ZR kept listening quietly until a new patron caught its attention.
Or rather, the force pike he held.
No matter what reason the man had for being here, considering he was gazing around the crowd, there were no less than three Force-sensitives, and the inevitable verbal dispute he would have with the Wolfman, the possible outcomes were quickly all becoming what the organics would call unpleasant.
Taking all that into consideration.... The droid took a step to its left, placing itself near the Shistavanen in a way that would partially obstruct the newcomer's view of him. Or perhaps, was it to prevent the former from being able to quickly approach the latter?
edited 12th Apr '13 12:40:50 AM by nman
Dreams of Revenge
Fein tried to get Slurrn to relax as he carried him to the table. Slumping down in his seat, he overheard something about a 'Fissure' and how Skorrow would be taken down a few pegs. The Jabiimi tried to pick out what was being said, but the Sith were being pretty hush-hush about it. It didn't help that the bar was a noisy environment.
Something changed imperceptibly in the atmosphere of the bar, but Fein was experienced enough to pick up exactly what it was: the taint of the Dark Side, acrid and oily. Immediately he drew his already dampened Force presence into himself, smothering it in an attempt to frustrate any efforts by this 'Heirophant' character to find out about his Force sensitivity. Indeed, the threatening man was searching the bar even now.
Judging by the Force Pike and the special title afforded to him, the Heirophant probably wasn't any regular Sith acolyte hoping to make a name for himself. Deception was the name of the game here, and thus Fein tried to remain as unassuming as possible.
Locking you up on radar since '09
— A degree of satisfaction worked its way through Griz Moaak's mind. Finally, this idea was bearing fruit. He had almost thought that it hadn't been worth it. Now, they had a concrete enemy battle plan to mull over, and a location. The Krevaaki pored over the mental images he received, fixing them in his mind. Now he sought to discern any recognisable star formations or planetary bodies...
And then the Hierophant entered, Force presence first. The change in the emotional miasma was so sudden as to make Griz twitch in recoil. Fortunately, he regained his composure by the time the big man entered, throwing him a glance before he returned to his drink. He also made sure to suppress his Force register as far down as it would go. I have a good feeling about this, I have a good feeling about this, I have a good feeling about this... He brought up mental images of datapads and ledgers, cargo manifests and transaction receipts. For extra flavour, he imagined a holopict with an assortment of other Krevaaki crammed into the shot. He continued to hum, this time at a more ragged tempo.
There was something Griz was missing, though, but he couldn't put a tendril to it... —
edited 19th Apr '13 12:17:19 AM by Colonial1.1
The Maid
Daren Alon Karn
The Jedi Master gently patted Slurrn's shoulder before he moved to take a seat himself, taking a sip of drink once the Dark Presence stepped into the Cantina.
The check for Force Sensitives struck Karn as a bit of a paranoid act... no matter how true that paranoia might prove to be. Either they were facing a Sith with some motive to fear other Force Sensitives... or perhaps something went wrong with their infiltration.
Needless to say for now the best thing to do, once the Master hid his presence in the Force, was to observe what the Sith might be up to as casually as possible.
Elayne Mentzer
"Yeah and no. I'm not a Jedi but neither am I a Sith. So you got not to fear me whipping your back or putting a collar on your neck if that's what you thought I was gonna do. I'm just a traveler passing by" says Elayne, letting her coat hide the lightsaber resting at her hip "Still, I've been dragged by a sewer, may I know just what's the deal in here?"
If I'm sure of something it's that I'm not sure of anything.
Master Saboteur
Nexel slowly took a sip as he overheard the talk of some "Fissure" and what it will do to Skorrow. It was heard in bits in pieces, but it was enough for Nexel to piece together. He leaned his head on his hand and slowly twirled the cup in his hand as he attempted to tune in more to the conversations around him.
It was at that moment that Nexel could sense something dark and terrible approaching. His eyes widened as he lifted his head from his hand, and he immediately concealed the presence of his own Force as he heard the door swing open behind him. Not daring to turn his head since it might attract attention, Nexel lifted his glass with a single hand. He took in what he could see from the reflection of the man's appearance on his glass, a hooded, robed man with a long Force Pike, and judging by the title of Hierophant, he was not a man to be trifled with.
With that, Nexel twirled the glass in hand again before taking a small, casual sip.
"Why does everything have to loop back to YGO?" -Guy who ruined YGO
The child stared at Elayne, looking utterly crestfallen. “Ny es Yedii?”
The older Haserian mulled Elayne’s words over, studying her for a long moment through narrowed eyes. Then he let out a weary sigh, backed through the door frame, and motioned for her to follow him. “You’ll get the answers you seek further in…whoever you are.”
He barked something unintelligible at the youngling, who quickly scampered inside, then jerked his head towards Elayne in a not-so-subtle gesture to come in. Assuming that she did, she would find herself standing in a cramped-looking, dimly-lit maintenance stairway which led deeper into this alleged waste management facility. The child was already making her way down the stairs, her paws clattering softly on the rusting metal. The adult Haserian, for his part, shut the door behind Elayne and locked it; then, drawing his blaster pistol, he fixed the former Padawan with a hard look.
“Start walking,” he said curtly, gesturing towards the stairs with the gun. “And no funny stuff, human. If I see you reaching for that laser sword, I will stun the kriffing kark out of you, understand?”
In the bar, the Heirophant continued to pan his gaze across the crowd, scanning the patrons with the Force. His gaze lingered on the table where Slurrn, Karn and Fein were seated for a long moment, a drawn-out, distorted hum escaping the respirator mask like a hiss of static. The Gran, for his part, said nothing, not daring to speak or even breathe under the Sith’s scrutiny.
The stare was broken as One Eye returned from the bar, a mug of fine-looking wine clutched in his paws. “My best vintage,” the bartender said breathlessly, lowering his gaze to the floor as he offered the glass.
The Hierophant took the mug in one hand, holding it gingerly like it was something repulsive; a slit opened in the respirator mask, and the acolyte took a quick sip. He hummed once more, then gave the glass back to One Eye. “Acceptable. You live another day, bartender.”
“My lord is gracious,” the bartender grovelled, returning to the bar on hand and knee.
Turning to address the bar and its patrons, the Hierophant raised his voice. “I am here to issue an advisory,” he said, speaking loudly and clearly. “If you are not already aware, a lottery will be held this evening in a few hours; if you value your lives and your service to the Brothers Karamak, you will be off the streets and back in your ships at that time.” The acolyte paused a moment to let that sink in. “Anyone unfortunate enough to be out and about at that time will be made to take part in the festivities. No exceptions.”
At their table, the four Sith troopers chuckled darkly, doubtless looking forward to what might happen to anyone stupid enough to disregard the Hierophant’s warnings.
The Danse Macabre Codex
"A lottery..." Slurrn mused out loud.
"I've heard about them. They're not the kind where you win money either. I say we should get back to the Falcon" Slurrn said to the others.
"Indeed, this unit supports its master's decision to obey the glorious Heirophant," ZR said casually. As casually as a mechanical protocol droid in a sleazy bar masquerading as a cafe on a Sith-occupied planet could.
— It was fortunate, Griz Moaak thought, that Krevaaki did not have facial features as overtly expressive as humanoids. Stoicism took additional effort when one's face was like rubber. Even so, grim disgust arose in his mind before being pulled back down. Of course he would see and hear things like this on a Sith-occupied world. It was unavoidable.
He briefly wondered what control measures the Sith would have if they were not run by Force-users, then buried that thought too. The Grey Jedi took another sip from his glass. He considered for a moment, took a breath, then turned on his stool to face the Sith official. —
"Ahh, esteemed Heerophant, if Ay might ask a question, arre dere eny local, ah, varriations in da festivities?"
The Hierophant turned his gaze on Griz Moaak, and a faint note of unpleasant amusement crept into his next words. “You could say that, Krevaaki. There will be plenty of locals involved in the festivities.”
More chuckles came from the Sith troopers’ table, only for them to fall silent when the Hierophant shot them a look. Turning his attention back to the Krevaaki, the Sith acolyte went on. “If you are particularly unfortunate, you might get a chance to sample the local…colour firsthand.” He paused, looking over the various Haserians scattered around the tavern, his next words spoken with just a hint of a sneer. “It’s quite something to see, just how vicious these animals get when their lives are on the line...and how quickly they’re willing to turn on each other to save their own skins.”
Fur bristled and fangs were bared. The Hierophant’s only response was to bark out a short laugh. “See? Animals, every last one of them. Tonight’s festivities will be quite entertaining, I’m sure.”
He gestured to the Sith troopers, who immediately stood up and left the bar without protest. The Hierophant moved to the door, paused, and glanced over his shoulder, taking one final look at the tavern and its patrons. The acolyte let out another drawn-out, distorted hum, then turned and walked out the door.
As soon as he was gone, the bar patrons let out a collective sigh of relief. “What were you saying, stranger?” the Gran asked Slurrn.
The Danse Macabre Codex
"Just asking your name. Where you from? Kinyen?" Slurrn asked the Gran, beginning to recover from the beating. He was still sore but not so much that he couldn't move.
— Even schooled in the Jedi arts of mental focus as Griz was, scenes of violence still arose in his mind, and even as he fought to keep himself out of them, he also pushed down his exasperation at the Sith. Ask for information, and one will get the trappings of a cruel joke instead. Still, it provided him with some clues as to what would happen that night.
Once again, he closed his eyes, and this time concentrated on the thoughts and emotions of the Haserians. —
ZR-4M had no sighing mechanisms, but the Hierophant - and even the troopers - leaving was beneficial for all the strike force members. The droid silently returned to scanning radio chatter, simulating refresher explosions, and listening in on whatever conversations were going around. It stood near Slurrn should anything... unique... happen.
The Maid
A wiser person would have realized that making a comment perhaps was not the smartest thing to do. A wiser person might have thought that perhaps the Haserian did pose a threat to her with his blaster, even if Elayne was a warrior with the force and a lightsaber. A wiser person might have thought that the Haserian might need to keep his confidence in being able to protect his own.
Elayne unfortunately had little wisdom and a lot of temper... but at the very least she managed to hold herself back from causing too much trouble "If I wanted you death, you would be already" she threw back with an annoyed look before she walked down the stairs.
"Well then, that proved rather enlightening on the nature of this planet's rulers" says Master Karn in a lighthearted tone, even though his eyes showed his displeasure "Everyone up for a little night partying?"
If I'm sure of something it's that I'm not sure of anything.
Dreams of Revenge
As the Heirophant and his cronies left, Feinn realised that he had been holding his breath. Letting the air escape slowly from his lungs, Bast found himself harbouring a powerful sense of disgust with the way the Sith were treating the locals. And yet he could do nothing. At least, not right now. Perhaps dealing with the brothers who ruled this planet would allow the Haserians to rise up against their oppressors and free themselves from their enforced slavery, but that would be a long time in coming.
Instead, Feinn made it appear as though he couldn't have given a whomp rat about what had just transpired, looking over to the rest of the strike team to see their reactions.
Locking you up on radar since '09
"Please tell me he's not here to beat on me too..." Slurrn said exasperatedly as the newcomer walked to the bar.
"What's your name, spacer?" Slurrn asked the Gran, partly for conversation's sake and partly to act like he wasn't part of a secret strike team.