In Fire, a Phoenix is Born.

[Carmen Fyreheart]

"Alright, boys, all that pushing is unnecessary. I honestly didn't think it belonged to anybody."

Being jostled into a transport ship that was supposed to take her to a not-so-cool pad behind bars, 5'7 Carmen the fire haired human female was caught again. Red handed. Literally.
The genuine and freshly harvested Lowicken Firegem was just in her scarlet gloved hands before someone else's mitts were on her. Both belonged to the guards working at the museum on Coruscant, and by the look of the few who had blasters pointed dead at the dome of that hot head of hers, she wasn't going anywhere. Damn.

So now, being cuffed and sent to the jailers was her only thing she was going to be doing today, instead of the snatch and grab he contact told her she was gonna sneak away with. Damned Nagai, worthless alien scum set her up. He wanted the crystal for himself, didn't he?
She was fuming as she was relieved of her two blaster pistols and pair of vibro daggers as she was taken from the back of the silver durasteel ship, and dropped off at the next checkpoint of the Imperial ridden planet.

Her hard steel eyes cut through the sights around her as she was whisked away with the other prisoners, some dressed more or less prepared for warfare than she was. She had her vixen body clad in a few bondage style calf strapped cargo khakis, while her basic white tank tee was barely protected from the smudging those grabby guards put on her by a cropped nuke brown bantha leather jacket. Tanned and pretty but sitting far away from her was her bandolier, held by the guards who hoisted the rest of her crap away into a bin that no doubt held the rest of everyone else's favorite toys and trinkets.
Damn.

Into a the building and pass check-ins, Carmen was shoved through the entrance and made to stand before a pic-carder. Her face was captured for the virtual crime base, and a dreary eyed Zeuol came and ran a scanner over her, the night-for-eyes alien getting all of her genetic info in an intrusive-but-not-really way through the handheld. "Carmen Fyreheart" it rang loud for the whole kriffing galaxy to hear. "19 cycles aged, cloned female human hybrid spawn gone rogue. Last noted location: Detention for Misfits on school campus of minor planet 4492 of Gordian Sectors."

"Yea, yea, what of it," she mumbled in a tired irritation at the scanner.

Caring less what another prisoner had to say, the Scanner Dude sent her away, and a chip was fitted in her neck collar. Prisoner identification, apparently, as the thing was put n and beeped the same thing the scanner said, but this time it added "PN #09393".
Wonderful. She was a number now.

Led down a maze of corridors, she was stopped before a thickly platistiglassed cell, and pushed in once the door was opened. Landing inside the soul snatching drab room of permacrete, chipped and dead grey, floors only barely covered with chipped paint before the stains crept in, the rookie-thief watched the door seal shut, and she was secluded from everything in the scarcely lit 6x6' cell.

Damn.

[Neive Undant]

Neive Thought as he silently entered the prison. He was always one to get himself into trouble for others, Jedi or sith, but this was a bit above his nonexistent pay grade. But Neive digressed, any potential ally he could have would help, especially with the looming battles. Neive walked towards the cell he had watched the girl be put into, thinking about potential as he walked towards it. She was a criminal, that much was easily known, but sometimes help can come from the most unexpected of places. "God, I'm even thinking like a Jedi now..." He sighed, shaking his head as he approached the cell. He leaned on the wall beside the holding cell as he thought. He may have been out of eyesight, but he wondered...
Was this prisoner force sensitive? Or just another character like you could find in any other bar in Coruscant?

[Master Buggie]

"No sign of him yet," the scout murmured into his wrist-mounted comlink.

The Jedi had been keeping tabs on Neive Undant for quite some time, as was the common procedure for a Sith defector. Typically, the Zabrak's movements were on the up-and-up, but tonight was an alarming exception. On this night, the former Sith had infiltrated one of the many Galactic Alliance prison facilities on the planet. For that offense, the Zabrak could be locked away on Lola Sayu for the remainder of his mortal life. Instead of tipping off the guards, though, orders had come from high within the chain of command to keep monitoring Undant. His end-game needed to be discovered for the safety and security of the people of Coruscant.