Ask Coruscant Behind the Crimson Ring

Bast Emblai

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Level 1469, Coruscant
Business Sector- “The Narrowlands”​

The controls in the lift flickered as the Ranger descended roughly. The lift itself was open air, only a platform hugged by industrial railings. It could likely fit ten average sized, humanoids, but Bast was alone. Not that she minded. An upwards rush of air filled her nostrils with the scent of week-old waste and speeder fuel as the platform ground to a halt. Street lights buzzed like trapped insects and a few run-down speeders were parked by the walkway, locked up. It was evening, so the night life had just began to stir. In reality, the level was so far down one could not truly tell whether it was day or night, so computers, clocks, and data pads carried the steady rhythm of time in their programming.

The woman who stepped of the lift was meant to resemble a typical citizen. Her gait, although still uneven, was swingy. She wore tactical boots and her enforcer armor vest, covered by a sleeveless jacket and canvas scarf. A geometric tattoo climbed up the woman’s right arm, applied to last a week but resembling the permanent sort. However, Bast was unwilling to sacrifice too much practicality, hence, her hair was in a bun, wrapped with a royal blue band. Reaching up to tap her earpiece, she quietly gave a confirmation she was on site.

Nimbly gliding through a crowd of early Cantina goers, Bast made her way to the street corner where she would wait for her team and they could debrief. Corners and alleyways harboured meetings of all kinds, many of the illegal type, so she rested a hand on her blaster as a precaution and flicked the toggle to ‘stun’. Eyes leered at her and a group of armed men brushed uncomfortably close. The woman was by no means cowardly, but doing a mission alone was never safe. Attempting to take down a forced labour ring by herself would almost certainly land her half-dead in a dumpster... or worse.

The whizzing of a train came from just above, breaking Bast’s concentration. They were first to locate the business front harbouring the trade of kidnapped dancers, miners, and heavy labourers. Unfortunately, given the general seediness of the area, any access panel could be hiding an illegal operation. Leads were contradictory. Then, somehow, they would have to get inside and arrest the ringleaders. It was indeed strange command had only deployed her now, especially, as according to sources, the operation was almost a year old. It was likely the convenient presence of certain criminals, Derik Jaal and Molli Capert, who would bring an influx of credits to the Sector Rangers if apprehended. Organizations of which the main focus was not on cash seemed to be few and far between.

After a few more minutes, Bast tapped on her comm again to a frequency used by local officers. “This is Ranger Emblai. What is your arrival time?”

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Corran Velt

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“I’ll arrive whenever I want to, you ol’ pirate!” Came a vocal reply from the alleyway. The voice sounded inebriated. Stepping into view was a young man with a roughed-up jacket, blast vest in clear view, messy hair and the faint beginnings of five o’clock shadow. The man who stumbled up to Bast was none other than Corran Velt, doing his best damn space trader act. All things considered; it was pretty good. Corran had spent much of his early career on the space lanes, after all. The only give-away was the clarity in his sharp blue eyes. No drunk could be that alert. That and the blaster pistol on his hip was secured down tight. Usually drunks left the holster open for the casual brandishing of a firearm sometimes necessary in seedy ports.

“Don… Don’t rush me,” Corran slurred, “The others are coming, ain’t… ain’t they?” The Ranger in disguise threw his arm around Bast, opened flask in hand. It held no smell of liquor. To anyone watching, a drunk merchant meeting with a few friends after selling off a big haul was pretty common anywhere on Coruscant. Even a few passersby gave the two a wider-berth and a small glance of disgust. Someone already hitting the hootch so early was truly a pathetic, and ignorable, sight. Hopefully it provided the necessary cover for a bunch of people meeting on a street corner on the lower levels. In truth, Corran wasn't sure who his fellow Ranger had invited. The pair had taken down some other low-level criminals before but he wasn't privy to the details.

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Falynn Tikarsis

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It was early morning when Falynn received the notification. Rolling over in bed, she grabbed her datapad, its light illuminating her face. Scrolling through the details of her assignment, she stopped in surprise when a familiar name appeared. Bast had requested her for this mission? There were surely more experienced Rangers with medical knowledge, so why had she been the one called? Dismissing the question, Falynn continued reviewing the assignment as key words popped out at her. Coruscant. Business Sector. Kidnapped laborers. Illegal operation. The more she read, the more she realized that her usual attire would not be appropriate for this task. Thinking back to when she had been in the lower levels of Coruscant, Falynn pieced together an image of her profile and when it was time, began her descent to Level 1469.

The train doors opened and Falynn stepped out onto the grimy street. She quickly notified Bast that she was a few minutes away and then looked around. The streets were crowded with passersby making their way from place to place. At a glance, she too looked like the average citizen. Falynn was dressed in a worn jacket which covered her armor vest underneath, paired with sturdy working boots. Her hair was plaited into a messy braid, and a blaster secured at the hip. Slinging her bag over her shoulder, Falynn made her way to the designated corner.

From afar, she could see two people already at the meeting area. Presumably, Bast and someone else she had invited. The street lights cast shadows on their faces, making them difficult to identify until Falynn drew nearer. As she did so, she could see the two were indeed Ranger Emblai and Ranger Velt, both appearing remarkably different from the last time she’d seen them. Although she was unaware of the people Bast had requested, seeing Corran there was not too surprising. Falynn knew he and Bast had completed missions together in the past, and it made sense that Bast would want to be assigned with people she knew.

Nodding to them both, Falynn casually crossed her arms and leaned against the wall. “Is there one more person coming?”


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Haji Sigidi

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Denied, came the angry chime of the lift controls. Finger pushed the button a second time. The same negative chime answered back. So much for that way. He lifted his datapad from under his cloak and checked the message again. The blue light cast an exaggerated expression of concern on his face. Despite his joy in rereading the text, still in doubt that she had invited him here at all, he worried he might not reach the rendezvous in time.

His master's words returned to him then in a memory saying, your obstacles determine your path. Haji looked up from under his large hood, wearing the same outfit he always wore, stuffing the datapad back into his belt pouch under the poncho-like cloak. He grimaced at the surrounding pedestrians, lost. But what does that mean, he pleaded to the Force and his master. Was he supposed to just jump down the empty cavity of the unresponsive lift? A double-seated speeder whizzed by, Haji watching it pass with longing. Is he meant to hop a ride? But wouldn't that draw unwanted attention? No one seemed to notice him now, despite obviously standing out like a sore thumb. So he resigned to searching for a different way, unsure if he was doing the right thing. Trusting in the Force often came with dizzying riddles of blind faith, sometimes even literally stepping off of platform ledges. Well, not today hopefully. Not yet at least, he reassured himself. He just walked on with the current of the crowd, taking one step after the other.

"Hey! Hey kid!" A scratchy high voice called to him from the vendor stalls, lined up along the overlooking platform.
"Hm?"
"Hey kid, c'mere! Yeah you, c'mere! I got somethin' to show ya."
Halted by the unexpected beckoning, Haji veered off course and walked toward the little green man with four arms sitting atop his ladder stool behind the counter. The young Jedi unveiled his head, settling the hood around his neck and eyeing the sparkling wares.
"What is it?"
"It's a surprise. Ah would you look at my babies. Shiny and beautiful. These gems are from all over the galaxy. That mineral there, that's from a planet called Manaan. And that there? That's a Ruusanian ruby. I've got emeralds and sapphires, diamonds and pearls, and they're all masterfully refined and polished of all imperfections. And to think, not a soul has stepped up to buy my precious babies. Not a one. But wouldn't you know, there's a secret I'm hiding from all these uncultured baboons. Would you like to know what it is?"
"Sure!" Haji lit up, forgetting everything up until now.
"These are fakes."
"But that's lying."
"Well, they're not all fakes. There's one or two authentic's, but that's not the point. You see, the point is that people can't tell what's real and what isn't. They can't tell when they're being scammed. Not when you put a bit of sparkle in their eyes. What's real is in the eye of the beholder, I say. But you look like a sharp young man. You think you could pick out the real ones? Go on, give it a shot. I'll tell you what. If you can spot the trick, I'll let you keep one. What'd'ya say, kid?"
"Oh wow. Really? Um. Well."

Haji leaned over to inspect the table of jewelry, concerned that there were fakes among them and a bit challenged to perhaps root out the dishonesty of the man's stall. He looked hard at each piece, beginning to realize that even he couldn't tell them apart. And upon that realization, he felt a flutter of the Force tug at his heart in an unusual way. A shadow flitted by the shimmer of gems. And he looked up.

"They all look so-"

Swoosh came a sack that swallowed up Haji in an instant, swooping him up in a pit of darkness. He stumbled and fell, hearing men's voices muffled by the material that ate him. He reached for his lightsaber, but instead found his communicator. He picked it up, catching a piece of Bast's voice and pressed the speaker on.

"Miss Bast! They've got me! They've got me, I'm here! They've-"

Thump came the club that knocked him out, and all was truly black. The men hauled the limp sack behind the stall, a panel sliding open to a secret passage lit by a dull yellow light with a crime syndicate's emblem painted orange on the metal. Inside a secret lift finished rising to their position, the cage jostling to a standstill. Laughing, they pulled him in and it closed behind them to descend to the depths of this criminal underworld.

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Bast Emblai

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Bast could not help but smile as she heard Corran’s familiar voice. He was truly a steady companion. His appearance, was however, anything but. Ruffled hair, hints of stubble, loud slurred speech- he certainly had not gone the subtle route for an undercover persona. Meeting eachother while acting intoxicated was becoming a trend, the woman mused. She supposed it was an effective crowd deterrent, even in these parts. He wildly threw an arm around her, splashing his nonalcoholic beverage. Bast tensed slightly, surprised, then relaxed. The over-friendliness was on-the-nose accurate. But it was Corran, who was sober and alert, not a sleazy drunk man on a barstool. She gave him a warm smile.

Just as Bast opened her mouth to tell her fellow ranger the make-up of their team, a young woman with plaited, red streaked hair approached from a narrow alleyway. It was becoming clear that punctuality was not a lacking asset among her friends. Or those she hoped to develop friendships with. When requesting partners, the Correlian woman had of course chosen Ranger Velt, who she trusted and hoped to prove her competence to after... previous events. In her experience, he was strong, hardworking, and loyal. Ranger Tikarsis had been an obvious choice for a medic, in case of emergency injury and safe recovery of hostages. She seemed a kind and poised woman, and Bast would not be sorry to know her better. Haji was an unconventional choice, one even Bast had second guessed. The force user was green, inexperienced, unpredicatable. Yet, what he had done to her mind was more than drugs or mandatory counseling could do. The boy had power to heal and help in a different way that Falynn. It was a gamble, but one Bast was willing to take.

“Yes. We have Haji coming as well, this time without a feathered accomplice.” Releived and amused at the fact, the corners of her mouth twitched up into a small smile. Just as quickly as it appeared, it slipped off the undercover ranger’s face. The voice on her comm was full of static and fear.

"Miss Bast! They've got me! They've got me, I'm here! They've-" The sound cut out. With furrowed brows but an otherwise unreadable face, she looked at the others for confirmation of the message. It was clear they had gotten it as well. Bast swore under her breathe, temporarily forgetting professionality. This was not the rescue mission she had planned.

“Let’s move. We can ask around for him. He had to be close to get my signal.”
 

Corran Velt

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Haji. She invited Haji. The seemingly innocuous and clumsy Force-user. Potentially Jedi even; though not directly confirmed. This was a Ranger operation, wasn’t it? Corran didn’t visually react on his face, but he was mentally grinding his teeth. It was affront to the hard-earned authority and jurisdiction of the Sector Rangers to seek aid from zealots that seem to act above the law so frequently. But Bast had invited the kid. Technically the force-user was invited at the behest of the Sector Rangers. Corran supposed that sufficed. He didn’t like it, but Ranger authority was still intact.

He also didn’t like how things went from bad to worse. “Kidnapped? We should have had someone escort him,” Corran spoke in a low voice, breaking his drunkard act. Even if Haji was close, finding someone in the Coruscant lower-levels could be like finding a starfighter in an asteroid field. If the Rangers were lucky, the kidnappers were in for more than they bargained for. It just depended on how prepared the criminals were to face down a Force-user. If the victim has a laser-sword, that would makes things much more difficult for any would-be slavers. The operation didn't change; it just got more personal.

"We can fan out. My advice is we stay in visual or commlink range. I'm sure people will have noticed a sore-thumb like Haji walking about." Corran at least prayed that was true. Giving a quick drunken salute to the two women, the male Ranger stumbled off, maintaining his drunken appearance at least until he was around the corner from any peering eyes. If Haji he was taken, it couldn't have been far from the elevator shafts.
 

Falynn Tikarsis

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There was a panicked string of words from Bast’s commlink and then silence. As Bast had only just stated, the last person she had requested for this assignment was the force-user, Haji. Knowing Corran and Haji did not have the best of relationships, Falynn questioned the reasoning behind Bast’s decision, but in truth did not mind. The boy was kind-hearted and well meaning, albeit innocent and inexperienced. It was those qualities that might have cost him. With the newfound knowledge that Haji had been kidnapped, the situation had taken a bit of a turn.

“Yes, there’s a good chance someone would have seen Haji about. If we fan out, I agree that we should to stay at least within commlink range.” After Corran had left, Falynn addressed the other woman. “Ranger Emblai, I’ll head down this way,” she pointed to the alley behind her, “to ask if anyone has seen Haji.” Retracing her steps, Falynn made her way back to the train station. She wasn’t sure what method of transportation Haji had used, but decided it wouldn’t hurt to give a look around the station nearest the meeting area.

Walking down the crowded streets, Falynn looked around her. She was no expert in detective work, but could try to use her skills of observation and listening to find the boy. For a lower level of Coruscant, this business sector seemed nothing out of the ordinary. There were vendors all around, and a constant stream of people flowing in and out of various buildings. Falynn tried asking vendors who worked near transportation if they had seen anyone looking out place, but to no avail. Most waved her away after realizing she had no intent on purchasing their goods.

There were also several groups of children along the road. From her experience, she knew children could be very observant. This led her to hope she would get more information from them than the adults. If Haji, who was only in his teenage years, had been kidnapped, then it was possible other children or adolescents had gone missing as well. Upon asking them, Falynn only received distrusting looks from children who ignored her or began to walk away. She knew that was understandable given the nature of the lower levels, though it was disappointing. As she began to leave someone tugged on her jacket. Turning around, Falynn saw a young girl who was no more than 7 or 8 years of age. The girl spoke in a whisper, as if afraid of being overheard. “I saw a boy taken from an alley. Some bad guys came and pulled him through a door. I didn’t see him again.” Falynn thanked the girl, musing on her words. From the description, she knew the boy wasn’t Haji, but it did prove her suspicion that the kidnapping of adolescents was not unheard of. She supposed that was something to go off of.


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Haji Sigidi

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Bump. Scraping, sliding. Echos of voices laughing down a muted hallway. Thud. It felt like he was thrown onto his face, twisted inside the sack. He groaned with a throbbing headache. They'd heard him. Hands fished him out, dragging him by the heels and grabbing at him to get hold of their captive before he came to.

"Pull him out. Get him out. Search him. Quick. Not like the other kid."
"See what he's got and throw him in."
"Dancing drexl, it's a lightsaber."
"A lightsaber!?"
"Give it here!"
"Let me see!"
"Hey! Get that kid inside. Get him in binders and lock him up."


Squabbling continued as their hands groped all over, pulling the young Jedi off of his face and flipping him over. Haji's eyes, half open, were blinded by the overhead lamp-light. He tried to struggle, but only managed to curl into a loose ball as his things were forcibly stripped of him; his cloak was pulled off and all his things were rolled up inside it. One man carried the wrinkled wad away while another kneeled down and pressed a cold pistol to Haji's forehead. When Haji only drooled in response, the pistol shoved his head back and that man stepped away. They flipped him back over and picked him up by his arms, dragging him and tossing him onto hard floor. A cage door shut, and footsteps clopped away as voices echoed down the hall.

Haji groaned again. His face felt wet, cheek pressed against a puddle of gutter water. He felt so dizzy and banged up that the floor felt like it was booming. He could feel his breathe now, sounds becoming clearer. His body began to sting and strain as he came to. And then he realized the bump of music thumping through the floor. The walls trembled and dust trailed from old moldy cracks. He felt something there. He sensed someone. A child's breathe caught his ear.

"Hey."
Haji jolted in fear. But his hands failed to scrape under his body, so he fumbled back onto his chin before managing to push up to his knees and raise a defensive elbow.
"Hey, whoa. Cool it."
Realizing he was looking at a boy of about fifteen, just as scared as he was, Haji held still in his fast breathing. The boy looked dirty, sitting on a plank cot. Then Haji saw his own arm and saw how dirty it looked, not to mention the binders linking his wrists. Wet and soiled, he checked himself and found none of his things and all sorts of stains and bruises. He tried to stand and felt the world tip as he tried, putting his hands out to the wall to steady himself. The crack crumbled beneath his palm, and the sound pulsed through it. He closed his eyes to feel with the Force, but the kid interrupted him.
"Hey, you okay? Those guys were pretty rough. Did they say ...lightsaber?"
"My lightsaber. My comms. Bast. Where am I? What's going on here?"
"Hey, hey, hey. I don't know much more than you do, okay? I was just brought here this morning. They caught me trying to knick some rat's fake gems. I think they're with Benny's gang, but I don't know. I've only gotten in with Razor, and Jynx said she had some work for me. Thinks I've got potential to run with the crew. But gee, I can't believe they caught a Jedi. You a Jedi?"
"I... can't remember. How did I get here?"
"It's okay. My name's Paki. I'll tell you everything."

"Hey! Quiet in there, or I'll bang out your knuckles you hear me?"
The guard, satisfied in his chastisement, walked off to the table and sat in his chair beside a column of rusted lockers. Down the hallway were multiple doors. A leaky pipe dripped and hummed with a vibration. A door opened with club lights and sounds blaring, then closed as another guy joined the guard to play some pazaak. Both had blasters and a couple bottles between them.

Meanwhile, the other thugs argued over what to do with their new mystery prisoner.

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Bast Emblai

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The electric excitement that permeated the air was gone, leaving just the smell of moistness and fried food. Bast was patient and adaptable, but she was reaching the end of her rope. Rather than redeeming herself she had lost the respect of the others. She saw it in Corran’s silent and twisted face, in Falynn’s quick glances at her and calm demeanor. She knew it was not the intention, but the woman felt patronized by the other’s unshakability. There was no excuse for this mistake. Bast was a ranger and she was rightfully expected to know better than to bring an inexperienced and unpredictable person on the team. However, the others maintained an air of politeness and professionalism. An irrational anger burned in the woman’s chest. Why was she attached to this boy? Why were the others so calm and collected? Focus on anger spurred urgency, and nodding in approval of the plan, Bast turned stiffly and walked away, her face as hard and unmoving as if it were preserved in Carbonite.

Merchants haggled prices and frantically waved goods as Bast passed them, eyes scanning for any signs of struggle. It was rather difficult considering drunk wanderers could cause just as much damage as the average kidnapped person. As if to demonstrate, a young Twi’lek wobbled straight into a curb and fell, taking down a cart of preserved fruit with an accompanying crash and whiff of sugary-sweetness. Cringing slightly and offering a hand, she helped the woman up, making sure the Twi’lek was gone before she discreetly wiped the grease-dirt-perfume contaminated layer of skin on her cargo pants. Nearby was a seller who caught her eye. Perhaps it was the stained mustard yellow vest or the stark black tattoo on his face that covered his mouth, but there was something else too- constantly roaming eyes, twitchiness, the way he had his blaster resting in his hand.

“Excuse me, what are you selling?

“Stims” He shot a nervous look over his shoulder “120 credits, if that’s how ya pay. I also accept blasters, massages, or ‘all on you’ trips to the cantina.”

“I plan to pay with credits, thanks, but I an looking for information on a certain... person you may have seen”

“You a bounty hunter? Syndicate tracker? I don’t do politics.”

“I can assure you am am none of the above.” Taking out a 50 credit chip, she looked him in the eye. “Young boy in a cloak, short hair, tattoos across his eyes. He is new around here and would be hard not to notice?”

“What do you want with him?”

“Unless you plan to start paying me for information, i do not plan to answer your questions.”

“Feisty one, okay! Yeah, I saw him by a thug selling jewels. They’re all fake of course so hopefully he wasn’t stupid enough to buy ‘un”

With a toss of the credit, Bast once again spoke into her comm.

“I have a lead. Look for a bloke selling gems.” The chase was back on.

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Corran Velt

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"Gem dealer. Confirmed." Corran replied in his comm stoically. That whittled things down quite a bit. On the mid-to-lower levels of Coruscant, valuable items were not often sold in broad daylight; more like peddled from a trench-coat in the back alleyways. Not to mention, the vendor would be making themselves known trying to attract customers for their real or fake merchandise. The under-cover Ranger meandered a bit, stopping one or two people to ask about gems in a false stupor. One disgruntled being shoved him but did point him in the right direction - up the lift and down the way. A squat alien, green and with four arms, gestured intermittently at passers-by from his stall. The being seemed selective for someone running a business. Corran discretely pressed on his comm out of view, "I believe I found the suspect. By the 1469 lift - Grid 113." The Ranger looked up for any other distinguishing landmarks. "Look for the flashing holo-sign for Pit Droid wrestling."

With backup on the way, Corran donned his drunken persona once more and stumbled up to the stall, "H-hey, Hey. This stuff looks great. How much? I got uh.... uh... a lady to impress."

The alien folded both sets of his arms and grimaced, "Get out of the way, you bum. You're scaring away my customers."
The undercover Ranger feigned insult, "I'm a customer! I am a customer. I just scored bonus on a big haul. Why you... why you don't like credits?"
The squat alien shifted his jaw in thought and once again attempted to wave off the supposed drunk space trader.
"Okay, okay, hold on...then. At least help me find my mate." The undercover Ranger pleaded, "He's about this tall, wears a pretty big cloak, tattoos down his face..." With every passing descriptor, the squat alien's eyes widened and the folded-arms began to uncoil. "I have a picture," Corran's voice grew more darkly sober as his hand reached to the lower pocket on his jacket, "He kinda looks like this." The end of a blaster was suddenly in the gem-dealer's face. The gruff confidence fled from his features. Carefully, the green alien raised a set of his arms and palms open. "I don't know who you work for, but I ain't worth it. I didn't hurt nobody. Whatever gang you rep, we can make amends. Swear!"

"So you have him then? Where is he?" Corran demanded. The gem-dealer shifted uncomfortably, as if trying to weigh the scales of loyalty vs. present danger in his mind. "There's a club. It's where a lot of people go to have a good time. Usually to... see some preTTY SIGHTS!" The green alien shouted in surprise as he flipped the table of false gems, catching the Ranger off-guard and hurling the colored rocks across the walkway. Some people yelped and others dove for the gems. Corran had recoiled from the thrown debris, but recovered quick enough to see the four-armed alien making a mad dash down the alleyway behind the stall. The male Ranger was wrestling through the chaotic crowd and pressed on his commlink, "Found the suspect. Small, green being. Four-arms total. I'm in pursuit!"
 

Falynn Tikarsis

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Fortunately, it seemed as if Bast was having better luck at finding a lead. Once she knew to look for a gems dealer, Falynn turned her attention towards the merchants lining the street. She had just started to approach her third vendor when another voice came through the comm. Corran believed he had found the suspect. “1469 lift - Grid 113; I’m on my way.”

Upon entering Grid 113, Falynn looked for the Pit-Droid holo-sign above her head. Although there were signs everywhere, she could its distinct flashing that was meant to draw customers. There also appeared to be some commotion at a stall near the wrestling match. Citizens had begun rushing towards the stall, grabbing items that had fallen from the overturned table. Even from her distance, Falynn could see the glittering of gems as the street light reflected off their shiny surfaces. Then came Corran’s voice, alerting her that he was in pursuit of the fleeing gems dealer.

Breaking into a run, Falynn turned just before the dealer’s stall and made her way down the narrow alley. It was darker there, most lightning was reserved for the main streets, but there was just enough to barely avoid any obstacles. At the end of the alley, was a two-way intersection. Unsure of how to proceed, Falynn slowed to look down the road. The sound of slapping feet to the right alerted her to someone’s presence and she thought she saw a four-armed being in the distance. Falynn quickly unholstered her blaster and raised it to meet the oncoming person. Sure enough, the stout green alien appeared in her view as he ground to a halt in front of her. If he would have turned back around, the alien would have seen Corran not far behind him.

Realizing he was cornered, the alien raised him arms in surrender. “Okay, okay, we can sort this out. Just don’t shoot!” He eyed the blasters pointed at him and backed up against the wall. “What do you want from me? If it’s credits, I can get them right away. Back at the stall.”

Falynn pointedly ignored his meager attempt at escape. “Tell us what you know about the boy’s whereabouts.” She lowered her blaster, but kept it in hand. There was no telling what he might try to pull.

Eyes widening, the green alien stammered out a reply. “Not much. S-Some crime syndicate took him, that’s all I know. T-They...,” he paused and swallowed nervously, “they went down a lift behind the stall...b-but...but I didn’t tell you.” Clearly, there was fear of the syndicates’s displeasure at his revelation. They did not take betrayal lightly.

Satisfied with his answer, Falynn looked around at the other two rangers. “Alright, let’s finish up here and make a move.”


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Haji Sigidi

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"I'm," he frowned at the damp floor he sat cross-legged on after listening to Paki's tale of intertwining gang wars, "Haji."
"Hey we're twins. Y'know? Haji? Paki?"
"So why are they kidnapping kids," Haji whispered, suffering the term kids seeing as the two of them seemed to fit more in the younger category than the older.
"Oh they take just about anybody. Depends on the job. They slave you."
"For what?"
"For mines or spice. Anything. It's easy money. For them. They don't have to pay. And we can't complain about the twitch."
"Twitch?"
"Yeah, you can't breathe when you work the lines. You get addicted. I knew a kid who thought he could make a few credits doing it. But then he disappeared. About a week-"

"Hey! What'd I say about your noise, huh? Don't make me come over there,"
the guard yelled.

That's when the idea hit him. Haji, feeling a little more put together than when first arrived, stood up and rushed to the cell wall nearest the bars and peaked a look at the guard down the hall. Haji's face squished against the bars to get just a half eye'd view of the guy's side.

Paki saw dried blood on the back of Haji's head and ear and felt a twinge of empathy for him.

Haji snuck back to Paki with a quickened pulse.
"Okay. Yes. I am a Jedi. I'm a Jedi Knight and I'm going to get us out of this. You just follow my lead and I'll take care of you, okay Paki? First I'll get you out of this cell, and then I'm going to get my lightsaber back. Then we'll find this crime boss and arrest him. I've got friends waiting for me. Sector Rangers. It'll all be okay now. Just trust me."

After Paki nodded with an energetic grin, Haji went back to the cell bars. This time from the middle where he could get a better vantage point, he raised his hands and reached out to the guard's mind. Closing his eyes, he attuned himself to the Force. He sensed the man's thoughts, something about a ham sandwich with pickled gorg dill. That must be the sweet spot, he thought.
"You will release us from this cell."

The guard looked up, feeling a tickle in the back of his head. Then he looked back at Haji and grimaced.
"What you doing, you little trouble maker?"
"You will release us from this cell."
"I'll what?! Like hell I will. I'll snap your fingers, I will."
"You will release us from this cell."
"Are you trying to do that thing? "
"You will release-"
"You are! You are a Jedi ain't you? That's it! Juice him!"

The guard signaled the other, retrieving a little fab and pressing the button. It triggered the shock binders around Haji's wrists with a snap.

"GAAAAAAAH!!!"
Haji shrieked in pain, spasming back until the shock ended. And he fell to the floor, groaning and still awake. His eyes saw perfectly as the guard opened the cell door and laughed at Paki as he charged him. He kicked Paki back into the cot, then stood over him and pointed at Haji. He mouthed something important, but Haji couldn't hear it. He could only watch as the guard held up the fab and pointed at Haji, vile grin overtaking his face. And he pressed it. This time Paki screamed as he was shocked and tortured.

Other thugs entered through different doors and joined the guards, concerned and agitated. They spoke of a commotion topside and chastised each other for their mishandling of the Jedi, saying things like I knew he was a threat and he's just a kid. Their boss knew now that they had a Jedi in their possession, and that they should have brought him up from the beginning. So they converged on the cell and grabbed both Haji and Paki, dragging them off down the hallway and into one of the doors.

Dragging their feet across white powdered floor, streaking black lines behind them, the guards pulled the two boys through the sweat shop and through the back door. They took them through the kitchen, through the conjoining hall, through the rave sound control room, and through the corridor to the refreshers. They went through door after door until finally entering a peaceful and refined room, red carpets and red tablecloths with string music and wine glasses. Only one man ate, accompanied only by two guards standing behind him. He sawed at a piece of bantha steak, placed the knife down, skewered it with a silver fork, brought the tiny morsel to his mouth and took a bite. He slowly chewed it, ignoring the scene that just arrived before him. He hummed discontent and placed his fork down, waving his crimson napkin and dabbing the corner of his mouth. Other guards hauled in the chef by his elbows, kicking and pleading.

"Well, we found the crime boss at least," Paki groaned at Haji ironically.

"Boss. Boss. We brought you the Jedi."
"Wait... Kill this man, he should never make a meal again."
They dragged the chef away, begging and screaming.

"Now. What is this?"
"The Jedi, sir."
"That is the Jedi?"
"No, this is just a kid. This one's the Jedi."
"I only asked for the Jedi. Get rid of that one."
"Like, back in the cell?"
"Kill him! You moron! Throw him in a dumpster! Get him out of my sight! Go!"
"Yes, your greatness."
They dragged Paki off, struggling as best he could despite his state. The door closed behind them, and two shots fired.

Haji's sunken eyes widened with fear.

The black suited crime boss removed a black napkin that revealed Haji's lightsaber on the table, and he patted it gently.
"So. You are the Jedi..."

@Kestrel @TerranSteel @FireSong
 

Bast Emblai

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Arriving at a light jog, Bast nodded curtly at the rangers. Growing crowds had separated her from her comrades, but after some firm shoving, she had gotten through. They had a job to do, so there was no time for apologies or small talk. Not that the other’s efficiency was lacking, as the pair had located, apprehended, and interrogated the suspect by the time of her arrival.

The information given to to the Rangers was sparse in detail. A crime syndicate had captured Haji and taken up the lift behind the gem dealer’s stall, which she had passed in pursuit of the suspect. Bast had practically tripped over several scavengers, scooping up the faux riches as if they were water on a desert planet. In that case, she scoffed, the collectors would soon discover the glittering gems were a mirage of sorts. They were thieves and not below the law.

“Let’s move.” The words stuck in her throat, but she mustered them with a forced, small smile in hopes to put her team at ease. They had to be, because she was certainly not. The generally level-headed woman was battling hard with her self control. Something had changed in her recently, since... well... Under her calm facade, the guilt and fear and anger were gnawing, trying to escape. Every instance of frustration or embarrassment fed the fire and she hated herself for letting it happen. What had happened to the unnaturally calm, stoic, unshakable woman who had been churned out of boot camp?

Remembering something, Bast swung on her heel.
“Corran, will you search our suspect for a key card to the lift?” Considering the door led to a syndicate base or hide-out, it was highly unlikely to be left unlocked for a lost tourist to stumble into. If he were to search the four-armed alien, the previously bristling ranger would find nothing.

The way back to the lift seemed an eternity. The crowds of nightlife were getting thicker, drunker, and more irritable. Pickpockets, henchmen, spice dealers, and every other sort of criminal had free reign, as evidenced by the leering eyes and not-so-subtle following of the new meat. Haji was trapped with people like these, dangerous opportunists who believed credits would outlast and outweigh any law. She had barely survived her time as a prisoner, despite her physical and mental training. He was young and presumably innocent. Death and pain that made her retch could kill him, or at least make him wish he was dead. Please hold on, Haji. We’re coming. Think of Nora and.... what’s that blasted bird’s name? Oh! Tippie. Think of them.


By the time the trio had reached the door, Bast’s professional, patient demeanor was slipping. She jabbed the keypad and nothing happened. Frustrated, she pulled out her blaster in one swift motion and fired a single shot at it. Fate, it seemed, (not that she believed in fate) was smiling on her for once. The doors slid open and she stepped inside. Once the doors had closed, she braced herself and spoke. Apologies had never come easily.

“I realize it was foolish of me to bring Haji on a dangerous task. Excuses and reasoning behind my decision do not change the fact he is being held hostage. I ask that you forgive my lapse in reason, at least for the time being, so that we may help him. I... hope you can trust me with this.” With that she steadied her gaze, staring straight at the crack between the doors. The shorter the ride, the better.

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Corran Velt

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So far, the operation was proving to be difficult. Haji had been kidnapped not by some low-level independent slavers looking for a quick payday, but by a crime syndicate. The ones that operated on Coruscant were likely vast and connected. At least Falynn had gotten another lead. A lift under a panel behind the stall.

Corran, a little breathless from his chase, nodded at his fellow Ranger, “Good work, Ranger Tikarsis. Turns out you’re as good at police work as you are with bed-side manner.” She continued to impress him. By now Bast had arrived at the scene and order the male Ranger to pat down the suspect for a keycard to the lift. Corran nodded and holstered his blaster. The human had to kneel down to pay under both sets of arms and pair of legs of the little green being. A quick shake of the head communicated that nothing of help could be found. The others began to look for alternatives while Corran kept watch over their current capture.

The whole thing didn’t make a lot of sense, or at least all the pieces to the puzzle hadn’t quite come together. What would a crime syndicate want with a force-user? Did they even know they caught one? Corran figured that Twi’lek beauties were more profitable human cargo than young men from the streets of Coruscant. It didn’t add up, or at least, not yet. A quick blaster shot and the shriek of metal brought the Ranger’s thoughts to more present concerns. It seems Bast had found the lift after all.

The question was what to do with the suspect. Corran rested his hand on the grip of his blaster and grimaced at the little green alien. “I can’t take you in right now,” the male Ranger began, “but I see it two ways. You can turn yourself in to the local police and confess to your crimes or you make a run of it and go back to your habits or get off world. With the Coruscanti constables, you get some protection from getting skinned alive by your syndicate friends. If you stick around or run, I’m sure the syndicate won’t have a hard time figuring out who led the Rangers to them. Your choice.”

With that, Corran left the suspect behind. All the driven desire to satisfy justice within him pulled hard on his mind. Any criminal was worth putting into cuffs, but time was of the essence. A half-measure would have to do. On the walk back to the overturned gem stall, Corran made a call into the Coruscant Constabulary and gave the necessary information and suspect description. The four-armed alien wouldn’t get far.

Once inside the lift, Bast expressed her misgivings about some of her choices. Corran had similar misgivings from the start, but he knew his partner had been through quite a lot. They had been through a lot together too. What friend would he be if he said I-told-you-so? Corran gripped Bast's shoulder reassuringly, "There is nothing to forgive. I trust you with my life and that isn't going to change." The declaration was as solid as durasteel. He only hoped Bast could sense the sincerity.

The male Ranger removed his hand from Ranger Emblai's shoulder and turned his attention to the command panel of the lift itself. Coruscant is a maze and any level could be the right one. Any guess was as good as any. His index finger glided along the panel, hovering just over the buttons, before finally pressing one. The lift shuddered and began to move. It was a derelict, for certain. Likely one of the many mechanisms of transportation infrastructure long forgotten on the ecumenopolis. Its use was definitely hijacked by the criminal element. As the lift descended, it began to gain speed. At first, one could assume that it merely was moving to arrive to the chosen destination. The speed kept going. Faster. Faster than any of the most advanced lifts on the most modern ships or skyscrappers. The panel was practically blinking as the passengers zipped by sections. Corran gripped the internal railing and shouted, "Brace!"

The lift jerked wildly as the repulsor fields suddenly collided with the emergency shields and durasteel bracers. Corran himself was thrown to the floor and the whole carriage shrieked to a stop and was thrown off its track. The light above flickered weakly. The lift was now tilted at an angle, doors slightly ajar and only the lip to the nearest exit floor was visible. "Everyone... urgh.. everyone alright?" Corran groaned.

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Falynn Tikarsis

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Falynn couldn’t help but feel relieved that her attempt at capturing the alien had yielded valuable information. With Haji being held captive, any measure of success was needed. She voiced her thanks to Corran as Bast arrived on the scene. Once Corran had searched the alien and given the Coruscant police a description of him, their objective turned to getting in the lift. It was locked and a key card had not been found. Finding no other alternative, Bast shot the keypad, and successfully unlocked the lift.

The lift itself was not in the best shape. Musty and with stained walls, it was just another forgotten object now used for the syndicate’s own purposes. Upon entering, Bast expressed an apology for her actions, to which Corran gave an adamant reply of reassurance. Falynn couldn’t help but smile at the clear friendship between the two. Such friendship was priceless, especially for a sector ranger. Facing Bast, she addressed her sincerely. “You couldn’t have predicted that Haji would be held hostage by a crime syndicate. Please know that your decision to bring him along or his subsequent capture doesn’t diminish my trust in you to any extent.” What more was there to say? Falynn knew Bast wouldn’t have chosen Haji for this mission if she felt there would be too great a risk. It had been made clear that Bast was a person of reason. If she believed it would do good to bring Haji, then Falynn would respect and trust her decision.

Now looking at the control panel, Falynn saw its numerous, unlabeled buttons. Finding anything would be a challenge. Some button was pressed and the lift began to descend, but didn’t stop. At the rate the lift was going, it might as well have been free falling. Everything was a blur until the lift was thrown from its track and crashed against a hard surface. Thanks to Corran’s warning, Falynn had prepared for the impact, gripping the hand rail tightly. Even so, she had been jerked to the side and hit the wall. By the time the lift had settled, her head was throbbing, and she was breathing heavily. Slightly dazed, Falynn didn’t speak until she heard groaning. Habit took over and she immediately scanned the other rangers for any sign of injury. The weak flicker of light from the ceiling didn’t help. It was too difficult to see much detail, but both appeared conscious. It only registered then that Corran had said something. “Hm? Oh I’m alright. Are you injured?” Then also to Bast, “Ranger Emblai, what about you?”

Once everyone was in a relatively safe condition, Falynn could turn her attention to the other pressing matter at hand. It was very likely that at least some syndicate members had heard the crash from the lift, so it was essential they move quickly. Fortunately, the doors had been pulled slightly ajar during the fall and the lip of an exit floor was in sight. If they managed to climb out of the lift, it would be possible to get to the exit floor. Turning to the other rangers, Falynn voiced her idea. “If all three of us push on the doors, we should be able to get them open enough to slip through. Then we can see if there’s any other way to travel between the levels.” It seemed likely that the syndicate wouldn’t solely rely on that lift for transportation between sections, at least Falynn hoped that was the case.

With difficulty, the doors were pried opened, and Falynn stepped out onto the exit floor. There was more lighting here, at least compared to the lift. No sooner had Falynn begun to walk down the hallway, than she heard shouting and the sounds of boots hitting the hard floor. It didn’t take long for her to see where the noise was coming from. Armed syndicate members poured out from the hall ahead of them, drawing nearer to the lift. Already she could see that they were preparing to shoot. Scanning her surroundings, Falynn observed that there were no exits nearby and the broken lift behind them would not provide shelter or escape. The syndicate had effectively trapped them. The only alternative was to press forward and meet the syndicate members head on. Falynn looked at the other Rangers standing beside her. “Ready?” She once again unholstered her blaster, preparing for what was to come. If they were fortunate, the syndicate would allow for some discussion before turning to aggression.

One of the members approached them, a haughty look on his face. “What are you doing down here...,” he began, but then changed his mind. “Doesn’t matter anyway. You’re in our territory,” he raised his blaster, pointing it at the rangers, “and we don’t take lightly to outsiders.” No such luck.

A shot rang out, and the chaos began.
 

Haji Sigidi

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His breathe escaped him. Eyes began watering. Their loss, the chef and the boy Paki, he felt it rend his insides open. His heart raced, and a single tear streamed down his cheek. Their unique voices echoed in his mind, their final plea for help ringing in his ears while the floor fell out from under his knees. The pain was daunting. The pull was sharp.

"You killed them."

A commotion stirred amongst the guards behind Haji, more coming in, muffled discussion buzzing through their comms. In their duress, the crime boss faded from pleasured expression to frowned interest, distracted by their back and forth.

"What is it?"
"It's the lift, sir."
"What? Which one? What about it?"

"Why would you do that?"

"It's dead, sir."
"Dead? It's a bloody lift, it can't be dead. It either works or it doesn't. What's the matter?"
"We've intruders, sir."

"They didn't deserve to die."

"Intruders!? How!?"
"They used the lift."
"Not how, how, I mean how did they find us??"
"Via the lift, sir."
"Imbecile!!! Get me Whistler! NOW!"

In this darkness, in his suffering, he felt lost. It was his fault they died. He'd promised Paki he'd be safe. He put his trust in him and he'd failed him. He'd felt their deaths not only through the Force but through his own actions, the cause of their violent ends. Is this what Jedi felt when on the precipice, he thought. Is this what falling felt like? But then he realized, there was no darkness. There was only the Force. They were not there, but they were with him. They were one with him, and he was one with them. Paki's subtle smile flashed in his thoughts. His breathe slowed. He realized he hadn't fallen, nor was there fear of it. This was what they had come to accomplish, was it not? Bast. Corran. Falynn. Haji. These were beacons of light in the dark, shining their light on this sect of the syndicate. Not a soul could outrun them, not one of them would survive here much longer. For the good of the few would blind those in the darkness.

His eyes arose. They were focused and still. They stared at his lightsaber, resting upon the table. And it trembled.

A ghostly breathe sighed through the air.

His knees spread, switching to his left foot's toes and turning out his right foot. One guard noticed and bent down to reach for Haji. Haji pushed off his knee and spun around underneath the other guard's legs. His lightsaber flew to his beckoning hands, and ignited.

Swoosh.

The yellow blade burst and slashed through one guard's arm and the other guard's legs both, severing them clean, before the lightsaber hilt smacked tight into Haji's palms. Thud, thud, thud. Limbs tumbled and the men screamed, falling to the floor. Blasters drew and fired. Haji dashed across another guard, shot in the crossfire as a consequence. Haji pivoted behind the guard, slashing up through the shot guard's back and kicking him forward into another guard. Jumping back into a backflip, diving his lightsaber back over his head into another guard's chest and rotating over him. Haji landed on his feet as that guard landed dead on his back. He knelt and thrust his lightsaber back over his head once more, into another guard's chest. Then he swung his saber down an arc over his left leg, deflecting a red blaster bolt straight back at the shooter's chest. The guard just behind Haji collapsed in sync with the last guard who'd just been hit by his own blaster bolt.

Fingers wrapped around a fab, and a thumb pressed the button.

"GAAAAAAH!"
Haji screamed, dropping his lightsaber as the volts surged through his body. He crumbled to the pain. The lightsaber retracted. He convulsed and cried in agony until the charge ceased. Then the boss' thumb pressed the button again. And Haji screamed, writhing with less mobility. It finally stopped.

The door opened.
"Wheeeeeew," whistled the newcomer in the nice black suit. He looked over the aftermath with a thrilled wonder and coolness. He wore a tight black exoskeleton under his suit and bug-eyed black visor goggles. The only thing showing was his blue mouth.

"What the-"
"Easy"
"-took you so long, Whistler??"
"Looks like you've got things under control here. Mayhaps I should check out the breach, then?"
"Fine! Yes! Take care of it!"
"You sure you want this?"
"I told you! We lure them here with him and exterminate them all. No witnesses. No law enforcement."
"Yeah, but you sure? The boss is just using you as his stand-in. He's got other plans. He'll just find another look-a-like. You're totally expendable."
"Just shut up! I know, alright! Don't you think I know that?"
"Wheew. I see. Well, sit tight then ...boss."

Whistler closed the door behind him and strutted off down the hall at a casual pace, whistling a tune. He readied his modified blaster, finger toying with the switch that modulated between a rapid burst fire and a charged bolt. In the other hand, he played with a mat-black vibranium knife. He looked the part of skilled assassin, notches on his matted black armor for every significant kill. He had to distinguish between the insignificant ones, or else there'd be too many. There were also a set of wings etched with a sword. This was for the Force user he'd killed. His gate almost bounced with martial prowess, light-footed and living always in the eye of the storm. He was poised with bent arms, prepared for close combat where blasters and knifes flourished in multiple and unpredictable capacities. And the dents in his steel-toed boots and steel rimmed shins suggested much use, disguising the retractable toe-blades.

This was going to be fun, said the Whistler's tune echoing down the halls.

@Kestrel @TerranSteel @FireSong
 

Bast Emblai

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Something squeaked ominously in the lift and it shuddered slightly as the group descended in a slightly more amiable silence. Corran’s comforting touch and words had taken some of the weight off Bast’s shoulders. Falynn, the model ranger in every way, offered an encouraging remark, yet even these did little to still her troubled mind. They needed to get to Haji quickly, yet time seemed to flow at the speed of Jogan Fruit Syrup. The amount of floors the lift led to was dizzying and the underworld was a maze. We need to track down the syndicate. Should we track the comm? Search random buildings? Absentmindedly glancing out the viewing port, the ranger noticed levels were racing by faster than her thoughts. It struck her as a bit odd... this was an old lift, not a newer and quicker one... so why...

“Brace!” came the yell that grounded her. Without thinking, she wedged herself in a corner and threw her arms to cover her head. A mighty crash accompanied with the sound of shrieking metal shook her bones. She felt lightheaded and was wheezing, but after a few seconds determined there was no severe damage.

“No injuries on my part. Just a bit shocked. Ergh- We need to get out of here before this things get dicey.” Bast placed both palms again the cool door and pushed as hard as she could, groaning slightly with effort. With a grinding noise, they slid open wide enough to accommodate slipping out one by one. In the better light, the woman quickly glanced over her counterparts, who were swathed in the neon glow of alleyway shops. This was not the time for anyone to play the tough guy and hide an injury. Satisfied with everyone’s health, her attention was again immediately drawn away. The sound of running came from the towering, narrow corridors of street.

Like the trainer soldier-of-sorts she was, Bast’s body went into autopilot while her mind worked. In one motion, she had broken the magnetic tie of her holster and drawn her blaster pistol. The backstreet scum appeared from an intersection, between the glowing “Lucky Lekku” sign and a downed power cord, weapons drawn. A quick headcount revealed there were seven of them- a fair fight for the rangers. Before she could give any orders, however, a whining red bolt zipped by her ear, making her step back.


Bast gritted her teeth. They were neatly hemmed in and the gang had opened fire, creating a sideways rain of heated plasma.

“Take up defensive positions. Corran, watch Ranger Tikarsis. We need the medic alive.... aah”. A gentle waft of smoke rose from the ranger’s armourweave, scarcely below her ribcage. There was a searing pain, then a burning of a hundred suns. It was only a graze wound, mostly deflected by the vest, but she needed to treat it soon to manage the pain, lest she slow the rest down.

Bracing her blaster with both arms, Bast squinted and lined up her sight. The trigger pressed easily and almost faster than eyes could track, a masked syndicate member received a bolt to the neck. Another was knocked back and writhing with a bolt to the shoulder. The detective mentally reprimanded herself. She needed clean kills- as humane as possible. Not sloppy mistakes like the injured man. Torturing her enemies made her no better than the brutes who had tried to break her. Once they had done it physically, the mental torture began. What was Haji enduring?

No. Focus, she reminded herself. Focus. Live for the moment or die in the moment. This mission was turning out to be more of a challenge than anticipated.


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Corran Velt

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Despite the sudden plummet of the grav-lift, the emergency stops and brace-features built into the transport shaft seemed to prevent the shattering of bones and snapping of spines. Everyone else seemed mobile and Corran... well, he had a few more bruises than he would like. But he'd live. The strength of all three Rangers enabled the ajar door to be pushed and pulled open, allowing one through at a time. At least they were on solid ground now or something that counted for solid ground on the lower levels of Coruscant.

The alleyway was something of a mix between welcoming with it's alluring Lucky Lekku neon sign and intimidating with the darkened, decayed streets that snaked or jagged turned deeper into the manufactured caverns of the ecumenopolis. Falynn reacted first, bringing up her weapon with a smooth, practiced motion. Bast followed suit. Corran followed right after them, unholstering his Power 5 and looking down the sights. A brief exchange was soon followed by an exchange of blaster fire. Bast hollered at Corran to keep an eye on Falynn and take up defensive positions. There wasn't a lot of room for defensive positions in a bleak side-street. Going backwards was impossible. The 7 to 3 odds were not in their favor for an extended shoot-out. There was only one option: Attack. That's when Ranger Emblai took a hit.

"Raaaaaaagggghhhh!" Corran shouted as he charged directly into the blaster fire raining down the corridor. It felt like Outpost Blue. It wasn't going to be like that again. He wouldn't let it. Fortuitously, Bast provided covering fire by blasting one of the criminals and wounding another. It gave the male Ranger enough gap in the chaos to get within range. Practically leaping into the group of thugs, Corran pressed his pistol into the chest of one and fired point-blank. A stun round sent the now unconscious criminal flying. Another swiveled to fire on the berserk Ranger only to be met with a fist to the face, followed by a stun to the gut. A couple of the remaining thugs pounced on Corran and an entangled scuffle ensued. The upside was that the barrage of enemy fire had slackened significantly with a handful defeated but now a friendly was literally amidst the enemy.

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Falynn Tikarsis

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Knowing what was coming didn’t make Falynn like it any more. It wasn’t so much the fighting that bothered her, but the inexorable deaths that would follow. She absolutely abhorred watching people die a death that could have been prevented. That was the reason why the blaster Falynn now held was set to stun by default, and she didn’t flip the switch. She had devoted her life to saving people, not killing them. It was always this that gave her pause as she considered her role as a sector ranger. The doubt that would wriggle its way into her mind. Could she, in good conscience, save one person at the cost of another’s life? Of course the answer should be yes. In the end, Falynn had come to terms with the reality that there would be a day when she would be forced to kill, whether out of self defense or otherwise. She could only hope that today would not be that day.

The first shot fired by the syndicate, fortunately, didn’t hit anyone. But from the corner of her eye, Falynn saw Bast grazed by a different shot beneath her rib cage. She made a mental note about the wound for later. Refocusing on the fight in front of her, Falynn looked through her sights, about to fire, when she noticed Corran’s reaction. She saw the moment he realized Bast had been hurt and began to run forward. “Wait!...” The next words died on her lips. Falynn watched as Corran rushed into the fray. To his credit, he gained the upper hand and took out two of the criminals before being tackled by the remaining ones. It also had not escaped her notice that Corran had used stun bolts to take both of them out. For all his apparent rage at seeing Bast injured he had still opted to stun instead of kill the gang members, even in self defense. Falynn once again noted this for later. It was an action that puzzled her, although she was pleased by it.

Now that a Ranger was amidst the enemy, it was vital that Falynn aim carefully. Even if she was firing with a stun bolt it wouldn’t do any good to knock Corran unconscious for several minutes. Lining up her sights with precision, Falynn took aim. Once she was sure where the bolt would go, she fired at the three remaining criminals. It was a fluid motion only gained through painstaking years of practice. Caught by the succession of bolts, they each collapsed unconscious. Falynn did a quick assessment of the other rangers before moving on. She was satisfied that Bast’s wound could be treated later without causing further damage and Corran had not suffered any major injuries either. “We better go before these members regain consciousness.”


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Haji Sigidi

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A groan wheezed from an unconscious henchmen. The lone, well dressed man carefully stepped over the bodies, whining for the effort and discomfort of seeing the messiness that his position usually protected him from. Take them outside, he'd always said. But now he was alone. And the danger that lay before him was great, despite it being subdued. He reached the Jedi, laying on his side with shallow breaths. He picked up the Jedi's lightsaber in two fingers and raised a brow at it, questioning the devastation such a little thing could cause. Then he dipped it into his pants pocket and carefully let it sink until safely settled. A corner peaked out.

He painstakingly tiptoed his way back, passed his desk and to the empty bar counter where he stepped onto the foot bar and reached over to gather some liquor, a scoop of ice in a tumbler, and a couple wet olives.

"Well. It seems we share a commonality, Jedi. You... are a Jedi, aren't you? The way you felled my agents. Such vim. Eh, who am I kidding. They'e not mine after all, are they? Perhaps we're the both of us frauds? I don't imagine a real Jedi would get caught by a peddler in the lower sector. But then you did put on a passionate showing. Well. Would you? No. You're much too young for a refreshment like this, aren't you. Ugh, these things never come apart once you snap them together. Ah. There we are. Mmm. Nice and icy. Ahhh. Refreshing."

"Hmm. It would appear we're both what the fisherman once called, the bait. Did you know that a Nexufish, ugh one of my favorite dishes, is actually quite poisonous if not prepared correctly? A single meal could kill a man. I suppose that would be one way to die. Better than the alternative, I'd wager. Shot in the back of some alleyway. My name's Benjamin by the way. I haven't gone by Benjamin for what feels like an eternity. Feels freeing. Like stretching in the morning. The rabble here call me boss all day long. At least it still begins with a 'b', ahahaha. Mmm, this is well made if I do say so myself."

"You're not looking too well, young Jedi. Hmm. Perhaps you can help me? Eh, Jedi? You can still hear me, yes? I said, you can help me with my dilemma! You see I enjoy a fine lifestyle here and I'd like to keep it. But our overlord has different plans. Well, I'll spare you the details but let us just say that his ambitions reach higher than this rung of the cheese wheel. But I've already seen turf wars and experienced the life of an expendable stand-in, as my associate so pointedly coined it. See, I've been secretly investing in several markets in the guise of my current alias: fighting pits, chance tables, front property for businesses and their backdoor dealings. Only a few of us know that things have been fixed for a while now. But you see... Well. Should I tell you? No. No I've already said too much. Who knows what mischief you might still cause me. Well, anyways. No one questioned my activity because I'm am him. And now, I just about own a good portion of his dealings and he doesn't even know it. So when he moves on, I'd like to sneak back in under his nose and resume my position without him ever even knowing it. And I'll be skimming most of the funds all for myself. None the wiser. Quite clever, aren't I?"

"Well, Jedi? Aren't you listening? What do you think? Should I fake my own death? Or, should I just go into hiding and find a nice little spot here in the sector where servants can attend me, hand and foot? Perhaps I should cut off your arm in pieces and inject it with a mutagen, make it look like my own. Yes, I think I just might."


His comm beeped thrice. He picked it up, hearing a whistling tune echoing on the other side.

"Just thought I'd give update, for your interest. The boys are dropping like flies. The maintenance shaft is down. As is the old cage lift, by the looks of things. Computer signal's red at least. They're coming this way and I'll be leading them right to you. They'll probably shoot you. Cheers."

Whistler switched off the device and pocketed it with a smooth double-finger dip, still holding his weapons, then pulled out a syringe by the tip of the pump. He positioned the needle between the plates and jammed it in with the grip of his gun and gritted his teeth. The adrenaline pulsed through his veins with intense burning. He stopped behind a corner at a distance from the intruders, turned about, and whistled into the echoing streets, "Wheewhooo!"

The call came back a second, softer time from around the building, "wheewhoo."

Then he turned back about, knowing these streets like the back of his hand. He knew the sound would come from multiple angles and confuse the intruders, possibly make them look down the wrong corridors. He'd already positioned himself based off of the schematics.

He stepped out suddenly, standing profile with the needle dangling from his chest and aiming his gun, then made a quick decision based on what he saw. He shot a triple blast spread shot that peppered several of his own grunts on the ground. Then he pulled back behind the corner from where he came.

"Whew," he whistled in surprise of the kick he felt from the stim shot. He'd also wanted the intruders to hear him again, and come after him.

Then, dipping back into the doorway, he sang back, "We've got your frie-end!"

He kicked the old swivel door, banging it against the wall so that it made sound and took longer to close that they might see it just as it did if they chased him around that corner he had shot from. He would have them chase him down this interior hallway and into the maze of doorways, through clubs and crowded mayhem. Then he could strike in the confusion.

@Kestrel @TerranSteel @FireSong
 
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