A cesspool of the downtrodden, the Refugee Sector on Nar Shaddaa is home to both the misfortunate and criminals alike. Offering their protection for credits, the criminal organizations that control the sector tax the populace outrageous sums. Unable to provide these fees, refugees are forced to work under hazardous conditions producing glitterstim and adrenals for their overseers. Some of these refugees are addicted to the substances themselves—for which the cartels increase the price of their tithes in exchange for a share of the product.

Crammed with stalls and makeshift hovels, several of the sector’s inhabitants find refuge on the streets and in the alleyways. Those who managed to avoid the dangers of drug production can be found selling their limited and often defective goods to others. Behind these stalls, a selective stock of black market wares is hidden, reserved for mercenaries and thugs.

Littered with garbage, it is obvious that no maintenance droids have been programmed to maintain the sector. The surrounding towers have fallen into decay, bits of debris falling every so often into the middle of the street. The duracrete streets are covered in a film of filth and chemicals from the abandoned warehouses, making movement cumbersome when traveling through the most inhabited areas.

Patrols armed with blasters and vibroswords come through these areas regularly, making a show of force to advertise the merits of their ‘protection’ while extorting the occasional shopkeeper. Screams and shouts are a common enough sound, which is never in the refugees’ best interests to interfere in.

You’ve been tasked with the retrieval of data from a thief who absconded with sensitive information. Not only is this to safeguard the Brotherhood, there’s also a substantial, but little-known bounty on the target, and the goodwill and favor to be earned from the source the data was thieved from. Of course, not everyone will go along with it. There may be those who desire to ensure the thief succeeds, and the source of the data is embarrassed. There are harsh penalties for those who return unsuccessful, and rewards for those who ensure the safe delivery of the information. No matter which side you’re on, you know success is vital.

Warlord Vincent Brujah slowly canvassed the streets of Nar Shaddaa. Dressed in his usual glossy black armor and cloak, the helmet of the Sith’s armor hung on his belt for now. Following closely behind him, monitoring for troubles was Vincent’s IG assassin droid, Frank. Both the Sith and the droid kept their weapons sheathed for the time being. Night had fallen on Nar Shaddaa, and between the addicts and the patrols, there was no need to draw any unnecessary attention to themselves.

Vincent’s long black hair was pulled up into a tight bun. His cloak fluttered in the wind as he stepped along the side of a street, keeping his eyes open for the mark. He had received an encrypted message for the Inquisitorius. Someone had stolen sensitive Brotherhood data, and they were to be taken down by any means necessary.

”This shouldn’t be too complicated” the Warlord thought to himself. ”Tan male, long flowing red hair, perhaps sporting some stubble. Knowing that he’s being hunted should spook him. So we find the anxious ginger and call it a day.”

Squinting his eyes slightly, Vincent searched the cluttered streets beneath the neon hue for his target. Taking him a bit by surprise, he felt a tap on his shoulder. Turning quickly, he saw that Frank had already drawn a WESTAR-35 and held it to the head of a skittish looking Zabrak.

“Easy! I couldn’t help but notice your armor… you look like a man that could use a death stick.”

Raising his right hand and waving it, the droid reupholstered his blaster. A smirk crossed the face of the Warlord. He spoke back to the Zabrak, waving his hand ever so slightly at his side.

“You have a fine eye for a mark!” Vincent said matter of factly.

“I have a fine eye for a mark!” the Zabrak repeated.

The smirk grew bigger on Vincent’s face, as he continued.

“You don’t want to sell me death sticks.”

“I don’t want to sell you death sticks.”

“You want to give me your whole case.”

“I want to give you my whole case!”

Reaching down behind a stack of boxes the Zabrak pulled out a clear box of death sticks and handed them to Brujah. With a simple nod, the Sith walked away. He opened the case and pulled out a single stick, popping it into his mouth. He then handed the case to Frank.

“Hold onto this, will ya?”

The droid opened a compartment in his chest cavity and placed the case of death sticks inside as he followed his master. Vincent sparked the stick and took a long pull from it. Letting what little anxiety he had within him drift away, he began searching for his target once again.

It wouldn’t be long until he found him. A human, close to his own height but thinner and lankier. His head was covered with a red mop of hair. He appeared to be arguing with the owner of one of the local sales stalls.

”Is he trying to get rid of the data?” the Sith wondered.

The questions would have to wait for now. Brujah tossed the death stick to the curb and grabbed his helmet. He attached the helmet to his armor at the chin and then pulled it over his head with a hiss as it sealed him away from the environment.

The argument ended abruptly as the red haired human threw his hands into the air, seemingly unsatisfied with whatever the conversation had led to. He walked away from the stall and towards an alley. Being careful not to alert him to their presence, Vincent and Frank tailed him.

The alley that the man turned down was dark and appeared empty aside from the heaps of trash on the ground. Using supernatural agility, Vincent rushed him. Waiting until the last moment, as the man heard the footsteps closing in and turned with a shocked look on his face, Vincent ignited his crimson lightsaber. The blade hiss and crackled as it threw sparks.

“Sorry kid, should have been more careful.” Vincent said as he pulled the blade back and swung downward in a slice that would bisect the man.

Before the blade could strike the red headed man down, a snap rang out and a white blade dove in, catching the slice before it could hit the man. Letting out a growl, Vincent turned and found his Clanmate Rasilvenaira StormRaven fighting to hold his powerful swing back. A whir was heard from behind Vincent as Frank spun into action, winding his abdomen until his WESTAR-35 had aim on the man and his DLT-20A had aim on Rasilvenaira. After a brief, but tense moment, Vincent deactivated his saber, allowing Rasilvenaira to do the same, but all the while the droid held his aim.

“Ras… I wish I could say it was good to see you.” a deep voice rang out from within the armor. “If you’re here for the bounty, I’ll split it with you. If you’re here for something else, I’ll have to ask you to step aside and let me handle this before my buddy Frank does.”

“Yeah, I could say the same, Brujah. You need to stand down on this. I don’t care what kind of intel you have, I will not let you harm my apprentice.”

She glanced over at the IG droid, then chuckled as she called out for her own companion.

“Veritas!”

A warning shot whizzed past Frank’s head as Rasilvenaira’s HK droid, Veritas, stepped out of the shadows, blaster rifle primed and ready to take another shot at the other droid’s head.

With the momentary distraction, she glanced over her shoulder at the redhead and gave him a clear look that said “Get out of here, now!”.

The redhead bolted, using the Force to enhance his speed, and soon disappeared into the crowd at the other end of the alley.

Rasilvenaira stood in front of Brujah, saber reigniting as her second saber also snapped to life.

“I can’t let you pass, Brujah, I am asking you to please stand down. But if you won’t, you will have to go through me first.”

Brujah shook his head. “Frank, take care of that HK unit. I’ll handle this. I am sorry Ras, whether he’s your apprentice or not, what he’s done has to be accounted for. I can not just step aside on this one. So I guess there’s only one thing to do.”

He ignited his own saber. Crimson swiftly collided with silver as he struck out at Rasilvenaira’s. She met the strike with crossed silver blades, and pushed back against the crimson blade. Brujah was taller and stronger, but she still had a few tricks up her sleeve.

She pushed back against Brujah’s blade as hard as she could, and then deactivated her blades as she dove to his right into a roll, quickly coming back to her feet. It let the momentum of his own strength carry him forward as he stumbled a step with the sudden loss of resistance.

Instantly, the world around them went dark, the blackness of freshly spilled ink so thick one couldn’t see their hand in front of their face. Rasilvenaira slowly circled Brujah, silently, like a hunting panther. She concealed herself through the Force, masking her Force signature and presence.

Beyond the circle of darkness, the two droids continued their own battle, with Veritas slowly drawing the IG unit farther from his master. Both had taken minor damage, but their fight for supremacy was far from over and both were equally determined to win.

Within the inky blackness, Brujah braced himself for the attack he knew would come. Saber held ready as he strained his senses to detect his opponent. The sounds from the droids’ battle were distractions he did not need at the moment.

Rasilvenaira drew her twin Nightsister duskblades, still maintaining her silence. She crept in closer, waiting for just the right moment. When she found it, she struck and immediately the blackness around them vanished. She struck for the joints in his armor, one at the hip and one in the shoulder. The strike to his shoulder failed as he’d just started to spin around, but the blade aimed for his hip struck home. The blade sliced through the joint and into Brujah’s hip. Enough to wound but not cripple as she hadn’t been able to get the leverage to go deep enough. But it would still be enough to introduce the poison to his system.