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  1. The heavy-laden cleric paused as he was confronted by the droid. Beneath his faceless features, the Jensaarai frowned. Apparently finding a closer transport to ferry him towards his goal was out of the question. Undoubtedly if this droid went missing it would raise the alarm; a little too prematurely for what the rebels hoped to accomplish. In keeping with his character, The Mantis rattled the censer at the end of his staff angrily in droid’s face spewing clouds of incense into the air. He then turned and shuffled off back the way he had come. Ducking into a doorway, The Mantis leaned heavily against the wall. He closed his eyes and reached out on the tendrils of the force. He was a Jensaarai. His actions here were for the betterment of his people galaxies away. To stop the Sith here would be to drive a wedge into the onslaught of the Sith war machine and to direct them away. The rebels were a blight to the Sith. The Jedi a threat. The Jensaarai were there to lurk in the shadows, unseen and safe, protecting their own, and by it, the worlds about them. The Mantis’ head inclined towards the smog filled aky above. It was as if he could almost feel his people across the cosmos. He was bound to them by more than a mere oath. He felt the worlds between them, the stars, the dust, the very cosmos. He was a Jensaarai, all of this was a part of him, just as he was a part of it. The Mantis allowed his focus to expand, he felt the world around him intimately. It was sick, twisted and corrupt. It longed for healing. He felt every molecule and particle, the steel, the water, wood and even air. He allowed his spirit to entangle itself with them all. Their fate would be as his, for in the force, they were one and the same. Across the city, across the waters, he allowed his consciousness to spread until his persona was nothing more than a background noise drowned out by the buzz of machinations and nature. Invisible against the galaxy. The Mantis waited a minute more as his mind settled and he focused his sight on where he was. He felt the world all around him, yet saw and moved in his own body. For the inexperienced, it was a equilibrium-defying experience. Returning to his shuffle, The Defender returned to his path. He did not wander any more, his actions were pointed and direct. He needed to reach the city’s edge. Walking along, the cleric-disguised Jensaarai flitted effortlessly from shadow to shadow. He turned to avoid any gatherings of workers shambling to or from their laborious tasks. In spite of being spread so thin so as to avoid more than a passing detection in the force or a fuzz on a camera or photoceptor, he did not want to take any undue risks. As he neared a relatively desolate marina, the cleric paused, slipping between a pair of overflowing trash bins. With a slight clamor, he pulled himself up and over the fencing that barred the city from the once pristine docks of pleasure crafts. These boats now sat derelict in their moorings, the first signs of lack of care and decay manifesting all over. Through the slitted visor of his disguise, The Mantis surveyed the docks before him looking for a craft to ferry him forward. Given the lack of resistance on the subjugated world and the desertion of this usually bustling trade and pleasure post, he suspected an unauthorized departure would draw attention sooner than later. Eying a Luxsub setting low in her moorings, The Mantis hurried towards it. It was unlocked. As if the force had willed it. Clamoring aboard, the Defender was pleased to find that even in her abandoned state the craft still appeared watertight. Even better, it started with a touch. Within minutes the craft was motoring out past the protective reef that enclosed the marina bay. There was no way to avoid it and surely the craft would be detected. Still, he maintained the slow no wake speed of the marina, ignoring whatever chirping the comm might be making. When he passed the last buoy and cleared the reef, The Mantis immediately began a sharp descent beneath the waves. Pushing the craft to it’s limits, The Mantis left a whirlwind of churned water in the crafts wake, even below the waves, as they motored out to sea and more importantly towards the Hakawa Islands and the dark crops being cultivated there. The Mantis only hoped that Mythos and his men could create a scene soon enough that he could make landfall and together they could divide the security forces of the planet and open up a weak point.
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  2. “Of course!” Exclaimed the young Tapani Jedi Knight, she let her eyelids flutter closed. “Now watch and observe if you can what I do through the force.” She let her presence stretch out to her apprentice, feeling over his mind, memorizing the biological feelings, the predator spirit, then expanded her presence outwards. Focusing on the distant spaceport, searching, until she found a group of presences that nearly matched Vox’s. And slowly she let that guide her through the densely packed streets of Nar Shaddaa. She frowned as they made their way deeper into the stacked tenement prefabs and she found herself wishing for the long open fields of Outremer. The rolling dunes and little oasis’s. Anything better than this dense cityscape. She pointed to one of the doors that looked just like all the others. “I uh…” She concentrated again. “I think this is the right door.” Her dad would likely complain about the expenses on her credit chit, but what good was money unless it was helping people?
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  3. Kessel: Mythos had heard of the devastating happens of Mon Cal and the Sith's current occupation of it's surface ports. But he wasn't sure of it's strategic value in the war with the Sith. This caused him to sit silently in the background as he thought upon it's purpose, his attention darting back and forth between the Jensaarai and Lieutenant Andromina in between his own thoughts. When the Jensaarai, Mantis, made his departure, Mythos rose to make his own without word, his mission clear cut. It mattered little the reason it was chosen, only that the higher ups demanded it. He would make sure it was liberated from the Sith War Machine. Once headed back to the city, he commed ahead to Jibb, requesting a team of five lined up as work detail for the cruiser and two personal escorts for himself. Wasn't much of a detail, but Mythos very rarely operated outside his skillets, the former Alliance Marshall using his strengths to his advantage. And with SaberCats, it was a variety tailored to suit his needs. They were capable of becoming ghosts without the Rebellion's aid and each had been trained to fit various roles in times of need. This is why he chose to bring them, and now it was time to prove themselves. After arriving at Von Howlster's Reach, Mythos made sure his weapons were placed in separate unmarked crates, but kept his armor for personal reasons. The two who accompanied him dressed in civies while the five that were to labor aboard the cruiser departed with their gear and his own, safely storing it aboard the cruiser with the affects of the patrons. When it was time, Mythos, Grenn, and Altos departed for the cruiser as well, and Kessel became a blur in the distance as Mon Cal became their next destination. Mon Cal: The air of Mon Cal stunk with the putrid stench of the Sith occupation. The outbreak that once razed it's surface had left behind the entrails of oppression and socialism under Imperial Law. And even the surface layer still bore the mystical wounds of the Force upon it's civilians, the broken spirits lingering in an almost decaying and ruined state. As soon as Mythos disembarked the cruiser, the aroma of Mon Cal churned in his stomach and burnt his sense of smell, causing the Shistavanian to cover his about as best he could. For most travelers, it was an odd thing. But for those who knew his race would almost instantly recognize their heightened senses. Humans were lucky creatures. Meanwhile, as Mythos, Grenn, and Altos made their way away from the starport and toward the security terminal, the five Marines began unloading the personal affects of the patrons. For now their job was simple, observe their surroundings. Learn the movements of the Sith patrols and safely hide away their gear among the others. And when the time came, retrieve it.
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  4. The civilian craft broke hyperspace, it followed standard procedure so as to begin landing on the once pleasurable world of Mon Cal. Even amongst the industrial sludge, lawless pleasures still coated the world in dark and exotic financial gains. Pleasures that any well-paying vacationer could find without risk of coming to such a world; pleasures that a low-budget cruise line would exploit for a quick credit in a moment. Back room deals just made the deal sweeter. Docking, the ship began the usual hours-long process of offloading her pleasure seeking passengers. On a lawless world like Mon Cal there was little need for security checkpoints, not when Sith-powered bots patrolled the streets and sorceries permeated the very air of the world. The passengers were allowed to disembark and move about the pleasure areas of the city, all within careful observation of the countless cameras of the planet’s automated security forces. Moving quickly with the aura of a shuffling cleric, The Mantis moved seemingly aimlessly away from the ship, his censer bearing staff clacking against the cobble-appearing durasteel streets. He wandered moving further from and back closer to the casinos, bordellos, and pleasure centers; each foray taking him on a new path a bit further. They were on the clock. The few rebels amongst the majority of ‘innocent’ sinners had to act and soon.
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