The Dark Academy on Korriban

Moyr got herself seated in an advantageous position in the shade of the ship's wing. The vista was good enough to monitor for coming threads. Blaster was on her lap.

She then turned the commlink frequency to Baesal's.

"Moyr here. Roger."

When Beasal replied, Moyr sighed inaudibly.



"You won't get the lovely view in the next couple of hours. I got carried away with planet exploration. Three corpses later I have a freighter wreck, another hardly functional customised ship, a bundle of electronics and speeder parts netting some 100 credits in sum, and a broken datapad of a now dead loonie who called himself Darth Faln. So unless some tuk'ata gobble me down before the Academy folks pick me up you'll have plenty to do once I get there."

Soon, the Torguta's voice hummed back.



And after a pause:



Moyr grinned.

"Sounds perfect. Can you get my coordinates, whizz tech-kid?"

And tapping ensued, taking a while during which Moyr gave a once-over to her security perimeter.



"Ditching me so quickly? Not even telling how your day has been, and if the room is fine?"

Moyr coloured her voice hurt.

A chuckle across the channel.



Then the sound of lying down.



"Imagine me slapping your sagging bum, Auntie Zyn."

Nothing like a bit of feigned vitriol.

"How many beds per room? Workshop space? Database access?"

A pause filled with Moyr's eye-rolling.



Sound of drumming fingertips.



"You're going to be very lonely in there, it seems. Are the adjacent rooms taken, wall thick or thin? Are the rooms monitored?"

A sound of tapping on the wall.



"Which is not bad in and of itself. We'll make do. Now, could you employ your database search powers and find me something on Faln, or Darth Faln?"

She paused.

"And recently escaped male Twi'lek slaves."

Knowing the name is probably the best I can do.

Walking, then humming of the terminal.



The wait.



And some more wait.



"The crystal is not here. I've searched it all thoroughly."

Moyr lied for whoever was eavesdropping their line.

"And the wildlife has mostly finished on the slave, down the cliff from here."

She nevertheless rose to see if this was indeed true.

"Thank you, Baesal. It nevertheless seems it may give us some leverage with Lord Zash."

She couldn’t hear it clearly but the tuk’ata were making a meal of Scab and T456781, she could see them down below tearing flesh and fighting amongst each other for the best bits.

Interrupting that meal with the weaponry she had was a reckless idea... sort of. If whatever was sewn in survived the gobbling, it could still be retrievable later.

She sighed and returned to her earlier search, now with new feedback.

Why not through the Force?

The power of the Light Side poured over, casting her into complacent serenity. No! Stress hormone levels were pushed up to overcome it, to awaken the drive, to reach out to the object the Force should be detecting... was it around here?

---

Light Side: 2

Destiny and Strain to make it Dark.

Something is resonating with the force and it is nearby, but you can't pinpoint where.

OOC: Discipline roll Hard difficulty to make sense of this.

For Moyr, the Force was as much alien as it was familiar. Its signals difficult to comprehend. This time, they proved utterly confusing. She had no sense of direction, her mind slipping away into spiritual disorientation she quickly tried to shake off. A lesson learned, or maybe some other marginal boon could be drawn from the futile exercise?

Five failures, one advantage, DP spent

She could feel it tug at her, but it was obscured. She could not pick it out through the Force not with any kind of precision. It was there, but she would need more attunement to the Force to find it.

Or she could rely on more mundane methods.

She might just have to return another time.

Not that she had anything better to do than to look further, if only to cross out places where it was not. She would like to know in particular if there was a reason to disturb feasting hounds because the Twi'lek had actually had the prize sewn into him.

Perception vs. Hard: 2 successes

Moyr has a flash of inspiration… maybe she could check inside Faln’s body…

OOC: Medicine roll Hard, to root around, or just hack poor Faln to pieces and make a Cool roll to not lose her lunch average difficulty and then a Perception roll with a setback die at Average difficulty. If she fails the Cool roll the difficulty for the Perception increases to Hard. I am using a Destiny to upgrade the die on the Medicine or Cool roll.

More tapping.



"You're right on those accounts. Over an out for a brief moment, I will spare you the sounds of what I need to do."

She said it as if it was meant to be a leak, not butchering of Faln. Commlink off, she pulled out a knife and steeled herself, then pulled the body away from the winds, into the tent, so that the predators would not catch the scent of blood.

---

Cool: 1 success, 2 advantages

0 successes, 2 advantage, DP cancels CD
supplementary roll because wrong trait was assumed and the right one is higher - 1 success

---

As she resolved herself to the cold slaughter, her thinking about it turned analytical. Soiling herself seemed unlikely now. Was it how the Dark Side tasted?

OOC: Go ahead an make a Perception roll with a difficulty of 1 Challenge die and 1 difficulty die, plus setback die for the mess.

Moyr worked with zeal, not minding the splatters. She was an amateur anatomical explorer at best so she didn't really know where to look amid all those... dead organs?

Perception: 2 Failure, 2 Advantage + 2 Boost Dice: 2 Success, 1 Advantage = 0 Success, 3 Advantage

At first she found nothing, her hands covered in blood and guts and then she felt it, right in the intestines. Some squeezing and cutting and out popped a red crystal with white striations through it. It gleamed in the daylight despite the blood and was warm to the touch.

"Mother of Moons!"

Moyr gripped the crystal firmly, not minding the stench that was now her own, and the sleazy stickiness of blood and intestinal content. Her happy-sweet grinning would be taken for a very morbid and disturbing image if anyone saw it. Then, after a moment of reverie, she looked down at the mess.

"Seems being unscrupulous pays off after all. Not a bad debut on my new path probably."

Having safely stored her find, Moyr looked for clothes and water to clean herself a bit. Regardless of her success with that, she would then return to her vantage point and call Baesal again.

"Ok, I'm back. You said something about the music?"

"I just spared you the physiological stuff. I suppose I should have asked if you're into overhearing those kinds of things first, sorry. Don't want to deprive you of excitement after all."

Moyr chuckled as she took the vantage point again, blaster in hand.

"Calm down, Baes. Now you're just being an anxious pervert. I'll tell you after I return."

The audible pout!



"Corellian jazz."

Moyr smirked at the last remark about this being a classy choice and just enjoyed the music.

/Scene