As Armad walked the outskirts of the Northern Coast, his datapad chimed to let him know that he had received new information. He paused alongside a ruined guard shack for what he assumed had been a rather pricey neighborhood, he checked his datapad and saw that about half of his recon droids had either been destroyed or disabled. The Hydroponics facility? Interesting that none droids were able to get within a hundred meters of it. Armad tucked his datapad back into the bulk pocket of his overcoat as he felt a menacing male presence as it moved in his general direction. Armad didn’t physically react to this, but turned to walk away toward the nearest access point into the Auxiliary.
“Hey!” The man yelled at him, but Armad kept walking away. “Hey you! Stop!” There was no warning that he’d shoot, but Armad felt the man aim in his direction and fired. Armad just froze when the bolt streaked into the ground next to his feet.
“All right, all right!” Armad said as he put his hands up in surrender. He gave a slight pause at the fact that he was still in his battle armor, though he was glad he had enough foresight to tuck his lightsaber away in a sleeve pocket. He didn’t want to get outed as a Force-user, not yet anyway. As Armad turned around he noticed that there was now three beings with blaster rifles aimed at him.
“What are you doing out here?” The male asked as he walked toward him from the ruined guardshack. Armad could tell that this guy was just the perimeter muscle, hired to keep those that employed him safe from any riffraff that came along looking for hand-outs or trouble. Armad watched as the big guy looked him up and down, gauging how much trouble he would be. The big guy walked up to Armad and stopped about a meter away, “Well? I asked you a question.”
“Out for a stroll?” Armad quipped, as he looked to see if he could bluff his way out and get back to what he had to do. The guard didn’t seem to buy it, as he didn’t even crack a smile at the obvious lie. Armad put his hands down as the guard started to close the distance between them. Instead of taking a second step, the guard lurched forward and struck Armad in the gut. Caught completely by surprise, Armad doubled over in pain as the air was knocked out of him. The guard grabbed him by the loose garment at his shoulder, and stood him upright.
“Uh uh, out for a stroll. I really don’t believe you.” The guard stated, then released him which caused him to drop to his knees. “Bring him up to the house. We’ll ask the boss what she thinks,” the guard said to his two compatriots as he backed up and pulled off the heavy metal glove off his right hand. That would explain how that punch had been so effective against the armor that he had on, Armad realized. As the two guards came forward, Armad contemplated revealing who he was so he could leave, but he was mildly curious who this boss was and why she was up here with guards. After a second or two of thought, he came to the conclusion that this could prove interesting so he decided to cooperate.
The house he was being escorted to looked to have escaped the devastation that had befallen Kar Alabrek, mostly. The main house was still intact, but the guard house and a couple of the outer houses had some damage, as far as Armad could tell. One of the guards thought that Armad was walking too slow so he pushed him up the steps to the mansion, causing him to stumble up the steps a bit. When he made it to the top of the steps after he caught his balance, Armad was greeted by two more guards brandishing blaster rifles. Neither of them looked directly at him as he walked past them.
“Stand here.” His captor told him with a jerk on the back collar of his coat. Armad obliged and looked around at the decor of the foyer. Simple and inviting, probably meant to visitors feel more at home and less like they were prisoners, he thought to himself. Armad focused his attention on the next room he could tell that there was at least five other beings in the next room, with probably around half a dozen guards in the other rooms. Armad could hear muffled voices coming from that room, and at least one of them was displeased with his guard. At one point Armad heard one of the others yell, “How dare you presume to know what Leader wants!” Silence followed that outburst and Armad could only assume was Leader calming his subordinate and telling the guard to bring him before them. He knew that he was correct when the guard came to get him and roughly shoved him into the room. Armad was ready this time and had started to walk just before the guard went to shove him. This gave Armad the opportunity to enter the room, as the guard was thrown off balance.
Armad could feel the hatred burst from the guard and without taking a look, knew that he wanted to punish the Umbaran for humiliating him in front of his boss. Armad was about to react to inevitable attack when a female, sitting in a plush chair along the back wall, raised a hand that stopped the guard from attacking.
“That is no way to treat a guest,” she said sweetly, gesturing for Armad to step forward.
Armad stopped at the center of the room, and gave the woman a respectful bow while trying to get a sense of her through the Force. From what he was able to glean from her emotions was that she was trying to put on an air of confidence and sincerity, but he could feel underlying emotions of worry, deceit, and an very large sense of superiority over those she commands. Straightening from his bow, “What is this place?” he queried, still standing in place with his hands clasped behind him.
“This is Haven. A place of refuge for those that have either had their homes or livelihoods destroyed from the devastation that befell us, or escape from those trying to take advantage of them.” She declared. Armad heard the guard barely snort at that speech, which made him rethink his immediate acceptance of her speech as a good thing and realized that this was probably a front of some sort.
“So this is a front of some kind? Who do you work for, and where can I find them?” Armad enquired, surveying where everyone was at in the room. “And why do you call yourself Leader? Is that a code name?” Armad finished and brought his hands around in front of him and pulled his blaster pistol out.
At this point, he could feel the shock as it rippled through the room. The woman jumped to her feet and exclaimed, “Why aren’t you restrained, and why are you still armed!” The guard behind him stammered through some unintelligible words before lifting his blaster rifle towards Armad. The Battlemaster quickly turned and fired a bolt into his chest, dropping him and his rifle to the ground. Quickly turning back around, Armad saw the woman try to make a dash for one of the side doors, but he aimed in front of her and fired a shot off, stopping her in her tracks.
“Nope, have a seat,” he intoned, gesturing back to her plush chair with his blaster. Three other guards rushed into the room pointed rifles at him, but they didn’t fire when they noticed that he was aiming at their boss. “Drop ‘em and back up against the wall,” he instructed as he looked over his shoulder at them. When they didn’t immediately do as he asked, he looked back at the woman with a scowl.
“Do as he says,” she instructed her guards. Sitting back down in her chair, she asked. “Who are you? What do you want?”
“Someone not to be trifled with.” Armad coldly stated as he pulled his comlink out of his pocket. “Warhost Null from Shadow.” Getting a response, Armad continued. “Null send a couple of squads and an interrogation unit to my location.” Armad put his comlink away before the affirmative was even given, then turned his attention back to the woman in her chair. Her wide eyes betrayed her panic and fear that Armad could feel coming off her in waves. “Now that that is out of the way, why don't you tell me who your boss is Leader.” He said as he shifted his aim off her and at the three guards against the wall.
“Why should I tell you? If we are just going to end up like that guard you killed.” She countered, some of her courage had returned as she was calmer and motioned toward the guard behind him lying in heap.
Not breaking eye contact, “Oh him, he sucker punched me.” Armad's blank expression never wavered, but her smile disappeared. At that moment the sounds of transports arriving, as if punctuating his meaning. “Ah, now we can get started.” A feral smile blossomed on his face as he advanced toward her.