After departing the docking bay, Biggs makes his way through the series of corridors that lead in the direction of the Telos Security Force headquarters. He is recognised by a number of TSF officers as he passes through the modules of the station. All are pleased to see him and he seems to have an almost celebrity status among the ranks of the TSF. At length he arrives at Entertainment Module 081 in which the TSF headquarters are situated.

"Biggs!" calls an excited voice as he enters the module, "What are you doing here?"

A young man with cropped brown hair dressed in the uniform of a TSF Lieutenant approaches him, grinning as he embraces Biggs.

"Kyle," Biggs grins back as he returns the hug, "The usual, running errands for the greater good of the Republic. How's the cleanup going here? I saw hardly a sign of the Sith attack on my way here."

"We're doing the best we can," Kyle shrugs as the pair begin to make their way through the module, "We're getting quite experienced at the whole Sith attack routine."

"You're not wrong," Biggs replies grimly.

"But in all seriousness," Kyle continues, "The Republic has helped a lot with the cleanup. As you know the station took quite a beating."

Biggs nods grimly as the pair walk in silence for a moment.

"How's Shelna?" he adds at length, "She still working at the medical centre?"

"She is," Kyle smiles, "She was crazy busy for a few months after the Sith attack, but things are finally starting to quiet down a little. She's really enjoying it there. We're actually expecting our first child."

"Wow, congratulations!" Biggs exclaims, his grin widening as he claps his friend on the shoulder, "And you were going to tell me when? Boy or girl? Or you keeping it a surprise?"

"She's a girl," Kyle replies, his own grin widening, "She's about three months in but we wanted to wait a bit before making it public. Still can't believe I'm going to be a father."

"You'll make a great father," Biggs assures his friend, clapping him on the shoulder once more, "That's amazing news!"

"What about you?" Kyle asks, "When are you going to find a nice girl to settle down with?"

"Great question," Biggs chuckles, "I guess I'll know her when I meet her."

"What ever happened to that officer girl, what was her name?" Kyle asks.

"Relna?" Biggs clarifies, "Yeah that never really went anywhere."

The pair continue to walk in silence for a while.

"So, you got a name in mind for your daughter yet?" Biggs asks at length, his grin returning.

"Well, I was thinking maybe Fenra," Kyle replies, "But Shelna hates it. She's keen on Alana."

"Yeah don't call her Fenra," Biggs makes a grimace, "No offense to all the Fenra's out there. I think my grandmother had a friend called Fenra, actually."

"Point taken," Kyle grins ruefully.

"Alana has a nice ring to it though," Biggs agrees, "Alana Relkan. I can see it working."

"Your vote is noted," Kyle chuckles as the pair arrive outside the entrance to the TSF headquarters.

Biggs presses the panel beside the door, which opens to admit them. The headquarters are not expansive, consisting of a narrow foyer in which a protocol droid stands behind a desk, from which a wider room extends in which a number of TSF officers are seated at desks or terminals. A door to the right of this room leads to the containment cells while another door on the far side of the room leads to the analysis lab.

"Greetings Lieutenants Onasi and Relkan," the protocol droid addresses the pair as they enter.

"Hello C2-L4," Biggs nods at the droid as he passes through the foyer, before entering the room beyond and approaching one of the desks at which an aged, grizzled officer is seated.

"Greetings Dol," he addresses the man with a grin.

"Biggs! What a pleasant surprise," the man responds, the concern which lines his features morphing into a smile as he rises, "I thought you were on the other side of the galaxy. What brings you here?"

"Long story," Biggs replies grimly, "I was hoping you might be able to provide me access to a secure communication channel. I need to speak with my father."

If Dol is at all curious about what is so important, he is professional enough to keep his questions to himself, especially in front of a room full of attentively listening ears.

"Of course," he says with a grim nod, "Follow me."

Dol withdraws a code cylinder from his pocket to scan it against a panel on the wall behind his desk. A door opens into a small office in which a small holographic table stands beside a wall full of panels and wires.

As he follows after Dol, Biggs suddenly halts frowning as he rummages in his pouch.

"Everything okay?" Kyle enquires.

"My datapad," Biggs explains apologetically, "I must have left it on my ship. Sorry Dol, I need to go back for it."

"That's fine," Kyle says, "I can grab it for you. Where is your ship?"

"I can't make you do that," Biggs shakes his head, "It's all the way over in Module 62. Besides, you were returning here from your own assignment, I assume?"

"Nothing too important," Kyle insists, "I could use a the exercise anyway. I spend far too long stuck behind a desk these days. What hanger are you in?"

Biggs glances at Dol, who nods.

"Very well," he says gratefully, "My ship is in Docking Bay 2. Access code is nine-four-two-eight if T3 doesn't have the boarding ramp down. I appreciate it Kyle."

Kyle grins, slapping Biggs on the shoulder as he strides back through the foyer and into the corridors of the module beyond.

Biggs proceeds into the communications room after Dol, who types in a code to activate the holographic table before heading back towards the door.

"I'll be just outside if you need anything," he says with a nod as he exits.

Biggs nods as the door closes once more. He then proceeds to type in a series of digits into the communication panel as the table begins to emit a series of slow beeps.

It isn't long before the holographic image of a middle aged man with greying hair and moustache flickers into view on the hologram table, dressed in the uniform of an admiral in the Republic Navy.

"Biggs," he says, grinning, "That was quick! How was the mission?"

"Father," Biggs smiles back, before his expression turning grim, "Not well, I'm afraid. I made it to Ord Mantell and located Kadon Lane, but I'm afraid he is dead."

"Dead?" his father repeats, his own expression turning grim, "That is unfortunate. Do you know what happened?"

"I think it might have something to do with these attacks on the Exchange or whatever is happening," Biggs says slowly.

"The Exchange?" Huff frowns, "I didn't know Kadon was mixed up with them. I was under the impression that it was the Republic's lack of initiative in tackling organised crime that caused him to resign in the first place."

"I'm not sure that he was involved with the Exchange," Biggs clarifies, scratching his head, "But he might have been caught in the crossfire by whoever is attacking them."

"Hmm, very well, we can discuss in more detail upon you return. Did you get the details on those hyperspace routes?"

"I did," Biggs nods, "They're on my datapad which I left back on my ship. A friend of mine has gone to fetch it. Hopefully it will give us what we need to combat the Sith."

"Indeed," Huff agrees grimly, "If the Senate actually agree to let us fight them. All this truce nonsense is playing right into their hands. I've actually got a call with the Chancellor scheduled shortly. I cannot believe I have to provide reasons to him and the Senate as to why we should continue the war. Have they forgotten Telos so quickly? Or Taris? Dantooine? Onderon?"

He sighs, shaking his head.

Biggs nods grimly.

"I am sure you will be able to convince them father. I'll get those hyperspace routes sent through shortly."

Huff nods with a smile.

"How are things going under Captain Endraln?" he inquires, "His daughter's birthday is approaching and I have a few gift ideas which are sure to garner his appreciation."

Biggs chuckles.

"Things are going just fine, father. Your focus should be on convincing the Senate. I'll be all right."

"Indeed," says Huff, glancing down as the comlink on his wrist beeps, "That's the Chancellor's office now. I have to go, but I'll be in touch regarding those gift ideas. Farewell son."

"Farewell father," Biggs grins, shaking his head as the call ends.

Kyle, meanwhile has reached Module 62, alternating between a light jog and fast paced walk as he approaches the docking bay. A light begins beeping rapidly on the comlink on his wrist as he does so, and he frowns, glancing down.

A female voice slightly distorted by static sounds from his comlink.

"Disturbance in Module 46. All nearby units respond. Blasters fired. Repeat, all nearby units respond."

Kyle frowns, picking up his pace as he reaches the door to Docking Bay 2, scanning his officer's code cylinder on the panel beside it. The door slides obediently open, and Kyle hurries over to Biggs' ship.

"Wow, Republic quality ain't what it used to be," he mutters to himself with a grimace as he reaches the vessel. The boarding ramp seems to have been left lowered, so he strides adroitly up and enters the vessel.
This message was last edited by the player at 10:46, Thu 22 Sept 2022.

It is as Kyle reaches the lounge that he hears voices from up ahead, in the direction of the captain's quarters.

Kyle frowns, placing a hand to the grip of the blaster pistol holstered at his side as he slowly approaches the room.

"Hello? Is someone-" he breaks off as he reaches the room, his eyes widening as he swiftly draws his blaster, "What in the blazes-"
This message was last edited by the player at 10:56, Thu 22 Sept 2022.

He never gets the chance to finish. Inside the room are four figures, dressed in the dark exoskeleton suits as those on Ord Mantell. Two of them, a Duros and a Zabrak, crouch beside Biggs' T3 unit, which appears to have been deactivated and which they are currently in the process of dismantling. Another figure, a lean human man, lounges against the wall behind them, while a burly Zabrak with a blaster rifle stands beside the door. Even as Kyle draws his weapon, the Zabrak raises his own rifle to blast the officer squarely in the chest. Kyle's weapon slips from his grasp as he is thrown backward against the wall behind him before landing heavily on the floor, smoke rising from his body as his eyes stare lifelessly at the roof above.
This message was last edited by the GM at 10:59, Thu 22 Sept 2022.

"You karking idiot," the lean human man snarls at the Zabrak as he swiftly pushes past to examine Kyle's body, "What were you thinking?"

"He was drawing his weapon," retorts the Zabrak with a frown, "What was I supposed to do?"

"Hmm, let me think, how about sell him a story of us being special Republic agents on a top secret mission like we talked about, hmm?" the other says sarcastically, shaking his head, "He's dead. Now we'll have the TSF crawling all over us."

"We make it look like an accident?" says the Duros, shrugging, "Gas leak on the ship perhaps?"

"How many karking gas leaks can one facility have in a karking week?" the human man sneers back, "I'm not wasting time setting all that up. Finish scrapping the droid, then seal them in the storage room. Smash his comlink and hope no one finds him until we're long gone."

"I thought our informant was supposed to be keeping a lookout?" grunts the burly Zabrak, still looking displeased at being reprimanded, "How'd this curn get on the ship in the first place?"

"That is a good point. These TSF turncoats are useless, I tell you."

He shakes his head as he marches through the ship and down the boarding ramp, pulling out his comlink as he glances up at the transperisteel windowed office overlooking the bay.

"Gurnan? What the kark are you doing? And how did a blasted TSF officer end up on this ship?"
This message was last edited by the GM at 11:13, Thu 22 Sept 2022.

A plump, balding human man in the uniform of a TSF officer seated at the desk in the office frowns as he glances down at the lean mercenary.

"What are you talking about?"

"What are we paying you for anyway?" scoffs the lean human, "You're telling me you had no idea that some TSF lieutenant just wandered onto our ship and got himself shot? You had literally one job up there."

"Not my fault," the plump man snivels indignantly, "There was some disturbance up on Module 46... I look away for literally two seconds..."

"Module 46? That's halfway across the station," snarls back the other, "Well, I hope you've got a story ready when the TSF come looking for their friend. We're sealing him in the ship and if I hear even a whiff of you ratting us out it'll be the end for you and your family, you got that."

The plump officer gives a whimper as he gives a nervous nod, wiping a beat of sweat from his forehead. Below him, with a final snarl the lean man storms up the boarding ramp once more.