The building that has become the Chyron Embassy is not the tallest in Port Kasiya, but it surpasses all others in the city's northeast. Basalt sidewalks smelling ever so slightly of brimstone underline a time-worn facade that's decrepit from the ground floor to a dozen stories up, then morphs into a modern steel-and-glass construct with a narrow landing platform extending an easy 300 metres high over the road. Patrons have to crane their heads back quite far to see it, though, and they are often more interested in stepping through the scratched but sturdy double doors which may be flanked by clients, bouncers, drunks, and duct-taped living warnings.

Seven shallow steps lead down onto the carefully dilapidated hardwood main bar floor, though "bar" might not be the right word anymore. Mismatched tables and chairs litter the room, while more comfortable niches with couches and two smaller sidebars occupy most of the walls. On the left side, an extending stage with a pole leaves no doubt about the kind of entertainment provided here, while on the right, a discreet exit leads to rooms best suited for negotiations or private parties.

Straight ahead, between the wings of a formerly grand foyer staircase mostly frequented by pretty people with little clothing, resides the curved main counter as an island, with the dark niches in between leading to the back - but one cannot shake the feeling that entry comes with a price that might not be paid fully by coin. The staff are unerringly smiling people with hard eyes, much like the owner, the Chyron’s Chancellor, Jorm Na'trej. This bar, this whole building, is their domain, their trap and their hunting range.

One instantly realises that any wish, any pleasure and desire, is just a word and a payment away.

One knows that this place is the antithesis to every value taught and preached among normal people.

One is greeted.

"Welcome to the Playground."

The petite Togruta kept her hood up, even though the atmosphere inside The Playground was almost too stifling to have a cloak on. Not wanting to draw attention to herself, the Elder moved through the crowd to a small table in a niche against the wall opposite the entrance as quickly as she could. The stench of bodily fluids mixed with alcohol and perfumes, plus the heavy abundance of bodies packed within the room, was enough to overwhelm most people. Tahiri felt quite at home within the bar, the noise and scents assaulting her senses being no worse than a battlefield or when dealing with her pets. The Elder ordered a drink from the waitress and waited until she brought it over to let her hood fall and exposing her face while she awaited her quarry’s arrival.

‘The agents got information that is mostly useless to them, but there was still a small nugget of info we still cannot allow to get out. Hopefully they haven’t figured out the useless info yet. Find them and their contacts, capture if possible, eliminate if they become too dangerous, or try to escape. No information gets out. Period.’

The mission was clear: apprehend the individuals in question, and get the info back, however there would be no guarantee of apprehension part. These were Inquisitorius agents, lower ranking, but they were still formidable opponents. They were also possibly in league with the Collective, and meeting in a place like this meant that they wanted to lie low and stay undiscovered. Interesting, though not unexpected, they were trying to do it on a Clan occupied world, right under Clan Taldryan’s nose.

The Elder studied each of the patrons and the staff as they came and went, but none really fit the description of the agents. She almost would’ve preferred to have been in her Inquisitorius gear, although that might have tipped off either the agents or their contacts. So being herself was easier, and she was on her own.

An hour later.

Two dark armored agents entered the club, though it would take more than the appearance of these two to cause the vibe of the place to dull, as the club was more than used to clan and Brotherhood agents coming in now and then. They looked about, robotic and methodical in their movements, carefully scoping out the place and making sure they weren’t catching the eyes of someone they didn’t want to be questioned by. They saw and felt nothing suspicious, even though their gaze fell on the Togruta sitting by herself; however, what they saw was nothing more than a sultry woman awaiting a companion.

Tahiri figured she’d have to sneak into the back rooms, where most did secret rendezvous. The Elder wondered if the staff would question her too much or simply bar her way, making it more difficult to apprehend them, but relaxed/decided against it when the agents picked an empty booth right next to hers. The Elder wanted to slide a little closer to their booth, before one bald-headed pale figure and another accompanying them, both in long robes passed by her booth and sat down with the rogue agents.

So, everyone is here, now to start the show.

Sighing as she threw back the last bit of her drink that she had been nursing, she slowly slid out of the booth to the farthest side. Slipping out and standing up, Tahiri composed herself, and once she was mentally prepared to catch these four red-handed, she walked to the front of their booth.

“Well, well, you lot certainly look like you could use some better company,” smiling sweetly, her eyes taking in every detail of the four individuals. The bald individual was a Technocrat Soldier, while the other turned out to be a Technocrat Huntress, her braids hidden underneath the cowl of her cloak, making Tahiri’s breath catch slightly. She had expected low ranking stooges to meet the agents, but the fact the Collective had sent a Huntress and Soldier meant that they thought the information was important.

Before she could continue her charade, a tall Mandolarian armored figure bumped into her from behind, causing her to pitch forward, almost face planting onto the table. The Elder was saved from that fate by the man’s iron grip on her shoulder. The figure turned and merely glanced at the Togruta female before focusing on the individuals in the booth, pausing as the visored visage stared at them for a second. The next few moments seemed to pass in both slow motion and then speed up within the blink of an eye. The Phrik Electro-staff in his right hand spun around before the crackling energy of the staff's tips sprang into existence, and the sharp sweet scent of electricity shot past Tahiri across the table, pinning and electrocuting the furthest Inquisitorius agent against the wall. For a moment, the immediate company stared at the convulsing agent.

The Elder herself was astounded by the sudden turn of events, wondering if they sent back up without her knowledge. A sudden and all too familiar alarm rang out from her subconscious, and she was barely able to call her shoto lightsaber, igniting it just in time to deflect the crackling energy of a stun baton attack from the soldier. That blow would have hit the man holding her, however; Tahiri could barely register anything else, before she was wrenched back by what felt like an unnatural might.

Deactivating her saber in time, so as not to cause unnecessary injuries, the Torguta landed unceremoniously on her back on top of the next table. Drinks and patrons scattered as she rocked forward and back onto her feet. A symbol caught her eye on the armor, a lightning bolt.

“Appius?”

Dropping the illusion, and letting it fade away, the Elder didn't have time to ask the tall stranger, before the Technocrat Soldier lunged from the booth at him, raising the stun baton again. The Technocrat Huntress, seeing the visage of the Togruta change, released a war cry and jumped out of the booth, rushing straight for Tahiri.

Appius heard his name, though in the crowded bar with noise everywhere, it was difficult to tell exactly who it was. Absolutely fantastic.

He blocked the baton with his electrostaff. Whoopsie. There he went again, getting lost in his own thoughts. He couldn't afford to do that, not when this guy who was swinging an electrical weapon at him so masterfully. Seriously! An electrical weapon!

The irony was not lost on him.

“APPIUS!”

There was that voice again. Did she not realise that he was kinda busy here? He had half a mind to create a whole new list filled with insults for whoever it wa-

“Tahiri!?” Appius’ artificially digitized voice rang out from under his visor. In truth, he had paid no attention to who it was he had put his mechanical hand on. Yet, there was no mistaking that crimson skin, amber eyes, long lekku, and the fight she was having with what looked to be a Technocratic Huntress. What the frack was Tahiri doing here anyway!?

She had brought her second lightsaber to her spare hand, and along with her shots, the two began their deadly dance upon the Playground tables. Sparks hissed as lightsaber met lightsaber resistant blades in swirls and flashes so fast and bright that Appius swore he missed a beat or two when he blinked. The two of them swung at each other, slashing, twirling, their footsteps immaculate amongst the unsteady tables. Despite the Huntress having the height advantage, Tahiri stood her ground as well as Appius knew she could. Glasses smashed around them, the crowd jeering in excitement at their new form of entertainment. If there was any security, they had no intention of stopping them.

Of course they wouldn't. This place was owned by Jorm Fracking Na'trej. If anything, they would be as happy watching the chaos unfold as he would be.

Appius hadn't seen Tahiri since he got married to Ankira nearly three years ago! A Plagueian in Taldryan territory. It was like the start of a very bad joke. What happened when a Plagueian Sith and a Taldryan Mandalorian walked into a bar? Had Taldryan lost its war with Clan Plagueis after Appius disappeared?

The Collective just had to be here too, didn’t they? Because of course they bloody had to be. They always appeared when it was least convenient and annoying. Nothing was ever simple in his Force-damned life, was it? It was a cocktail filled with people he absolutely despised; The Collective, the Inquisitorius…

Especially the latter. Especially anyone with the Inquisitorius. Frack them all.

The soldier's baton struck him again. And truth be told, Appius was starting to get a little peeved with it! Instead of blocking it, he dropped his staff. Sidestepping the swing while doing so, he grabbed the soldier's wrist with one hand. The great thing about mechanical hands was how sturdy and strong they were. Who needed muscles when you legit had an iron grip? He squeezed tightly, and the Collective scumbag in his clutches let out a high-pitched squeal which had the patrons of the bar roaring with laughter as they pointed their fingers in their direction.

With inhuman strength, the Mandalorian lifted the would-be grunt up as high as he could and brought him down upon the nearest table. The resounding crack of wood, the shattering of more glasses, and clattering of cutlery seemed to echo around the room. The makeshift crowd were vocal about the carnage, roaring in approval. The soldier lay beneath him, eyes having rolled into the back of his head ashis stun batons rolled away from him.

Appius smirked under his helmet and wiped his hand clean. He hated having to touch scumbags like this. If he could spit on them, he would. He was about to help Tahiri with the Huntress when he heard a distinct hissing noise coming from behind him.

He forgot about that other Inquisitorius agent. That sly little weasel had managed to slip behind Appius, retrieve the stun baton, and strike the Mandalorian in his hip. Only a split seconds warning shot through his subconscious, fragments of the man he once was.

What good was a heartbeat’s warning!?

He released a guttural cry of anguish when the shock coursed through his body. His H.U.D flashed with imminent warnings of his life support system failing, ringing in his ears. Breathing felt like a luxury as his chest heaved like his throat was being choked.

The traitorous cur that was the Inquisitorius agent stood above him, swinging the baton in his hand, blue eyes glaring menacingly down at him. Appius did what he always did best; dig himself a deeper hole by flipping that insufferable kark sucker a middle finger.

“Appius!” Tahiri called his name again. His current predicament had distracted her. Seriously!? She needed to focus on her fight!

The Huntress being the opportunistic witch she was, capitalised. She spun and kicked Tahiri. However, the Togruta used the momentum along with the Force pumping power through her veins to jump. She backflipped in the air right towards Appius and the Agent. When Tahiri descended, she brought her twin lightsabers down upon the Agent like an angered hawk-bat. The Agent only narrowly managed to leap out of the way before she cleaved him in twain.

She should have killed him right then and there. Yet, being the nicest Sith in the Brotherhood came with its cons as much as its pros. Tahiri, of course, was at Appius’ side instantly.

“Are you alright?” She asked, voice dripping with concern.

“Never mind me!” Appius’ voice was hoarse, coughing as he struggled to breathe. “They're getting away!”

Sure enough, the Huntress and the Agent began their retreat through the onlooking crowds just as the electronics in Appius’ armor restabilised.

“I'm not leaving you alone!” She said. “Ankira would kill me if I did!”

Funny, Ankira didn't seem to care anymore. Appius was sure of it. If Tahiri wasn't going to do anything, then he would! He rose to his feet and bent one leg. The kneecap opened up, and Tahiri almost baulked at the sight. Clan Plagueis had Mandalorians. She knew what he was doing.

“Appius, wait!”

Too late. A dozen tiny, little rockets soared out towards the archway near the entrance and into the crowd.