Star Wars Intervention: Echoes in Eternity (An Original Trilogy Game; Always taking new players!!!)

IC: Scout Trooper detachment, 2nd Squad (Unit Alpha Two-Six)
Night Life District

....23:46 hours, Coruscant Standard Time
11th Sector Army, aka Blazing Claw Command
Korphir Enforcers Legion, Imperial Scout Trooper 987th Platoon attached
2nd Squad, Lance Alpha-Two-Six...


The Sergeant Major shook his head, the sounds coming back. Pushing himself up off the ground, the Sergeant Major looked around.

Bodies.

Some civilians were wounded, crying out in pain. Others were trampled to death. Emergency crews and Espos were everywhere.

Amidst the wreckage, stores, carts, and other sale stations were trashed. Espos were down, likewise stunned and getting up. But one Espo was dead, being checked over by medics, a blanket being draped over his body. But the Espos were the least of his worries. His legs regaining feeling, he walked drunkard like at first over to the tattered armor remains of George. The medics looked up to the lone Scout Trooper and shook their heads, draping a white sheet over his body. Behind his visor, the Sergeant Major closed his eyes for a moment of silence, then turned and walked over to the next body. Peter.

This Scout Trooper was getting up, despite his armor being punched through. Like with George's armor, Peter's armor showed the marks of a A280 Blaster Rifle; at medium range, this weapon could cut a fully armored Stormtrooper in half. A powerful and deadly weapon. George's armor remnants and his body's remains testified to the weapon's destructive firepower. How Peter survived was, at first, beyond measure of thought. Until the medics attending to him took off a battered blast vest under his armor.

"Not standard issue," the Sergeant Major said out-loud.

Peter looked up from his sitting position, "It saved my life."

The Sergeant Major observed the vest's battered remnants and Peter's very red and bruised chest, "Yes, it did."

"He was good," Bull said from behind the Sergeant Major; turning around, the Sergeant Major saw the melted and deformed helmet of the old veteran craddled between his elbow and torso; the burn marks along the side of Bull's face testified to the close call, "Rogers is dead up on the roof. Knife to the throat. The hooded man was----"

"Jedi?" the Sergeant Major finished, "Probably. Something knocked me out and it wasn't him and it was way too fast."

"And Target One?" Bull asked, "A Jedi?"

The Sergeant Major shook his head, "No. But I know those skills."

"Sir?" Bull asked.

"Beskaryc Taab," the Sergeant Major said, "Seen it before. Rumor had it in the ranks he trained elite Clone commandos on Kamino during the war. All rumor a course and never confirmed. Then he went traitor and killed the very clones he trained. A platoon I was attached to experienced his tactics first hand; some of his moves I noticed in Target One here. I was one of three that survived. I transferred to recon as soon as I rotated back to Coruscant for reassignment. I vowed to become the best sniper and have my vengeance. It seems Taab has survived. Good, because I want him to die at my hands."

"What now?" Pete said, dismissing the medics as soon as he was bandaged up (his top torso armor and helmet removed, however, as he grabbed his blaster rifle and used the butt of the rifle to push himself up).

"Rearm. Push for orders to pursue the Mercs."

"Time to hunt," Bull said.

"Precisely," the Sergeant Major said, adding, "I have some contacts up at Blazing Claw Command Headquarters. Their few and far in between, but their the right people in the right places."

"Why do I get the feeling that we're going to turn into that rumored Hand of Judgement unit of Stormtroopers?" Bull asked.

"We're not deserters," the Sergeant Major said flatly, "Lets reconnect with Command."

"She's so cheerful," Pete said, rolling his eyes.

"No Sith," Bull said flatly as he helped Pete walk with a supporting shoulder.

"Command," the Sergeant Major said through the communication system, "Lance Alpha-Two-Six."

"Command," came a direct and short reply.

"Command, mission failed. Target One is mobile. Unknown location. Two Scout Troopers KIA, two WIA. Advise?"

There was a long pause, "Report to Imperial Governor's Palace. Reequip, rearm. Await further orders. ISB will be sending an adviser as soon as possible."

ISB? The Sergeant Major cringed, "Lance Alpha-Two-Six copies, Command. Lance Alpha-Two-Six reassigned to Unit Alpha-Two-Six. Unit Alpha-Two-Six proceeding to Imperial Governor's Palace."

"Command copies and clear."


TBC

 

OOG: Redoing the post.

 

IC: Nurse Ulrike, Crewperson Mary Formal, the Moon Over Agua bar
Location: Craci Prime, Imperial Class Spaceport


The girls had made up and ordered food, potato chips and salad, and were doing what seemed to come naturally with all the femmes Mary had encountered, that is, eating off each other's plate, though if Ulrike took a step back, the nurse would realise this was actually a one-sided affair.

While she ate like a pregnant rancor, often chewing for two, Mary seemed to be taking her good sweet time on the one chip, while dipping it in the cream-coloured sauce at the side of Ulrike's plate.

New rally point established, the recorded voice of a male Athosian Pop Idol judge announced from under the table, prompting Ulrike to pull her comlink up into view, while the newbie looked on.

"What's going on?" Mary queried after she figured the Ec Pand native had time to absorb the salient points.

The nurse looked up. "Looks like we are not heading back to the 'Gamble." She whispered, "We are establishing a base...planetside." She decided not to say where, as despite no-one being in apparent earshot, they had been served by droids, and you never knew how sensitive their hearing had been set to.

Spaceports were a fair location to gather intelligence, if you had the will, and resources.

She brought up the comlink to her lips, "Dak from Matron. I'm with Mary. Do you need us there, or should we stay separate as backup?"

Tag: Dak

 

IC: Havah Jeth/ Tiaca
Streets of CSA Spaceport City, en route to armory

"According to public records it is a seven story installation." he added. Looking around they crossed another intersection to the nearby armory, well garrison truly, but it was where the CSA had their armory and it drew a heavy sigh from Havah as they rounded a corner to see it sitting there. The CSA had purchased a stock garrison prefab from whomever supplied the Empire, if not the Imperial's themselves. The thing was an eyesore and took up several blocks with it's storied windowless walls, turbolaser emplacements, landing pad, starfighter launch chutes, and it's high spire sticking above it all.



"Shab." he heard Tiaca spit at the sight of it.

"Indeed." he softly intoned. "Know anyone we can hit on our time table? Or should we just surrender now?"

"I actually like that idea better." Tiaca gravally replied while turning to look at both Havah and Winterkill. "Any good bounties you could impersonate?"

Looking at her quickly he paused a moment, "Tiaca that is either insane or genius. Winterkill, I need a sound minds opinion?"

TAG: greyjedi125

 

IC: Yavscout, Fire Chief Herb (nrc), UIS Mines

New rally point established.

Yavscout blinked. Then blinked again on realising how dark it was, and away from the artificial street lighting of the spaceport community, that was pretty fething dark!

What, was it fragging night time?! He stood abruptly, determined to find if the kids had been rescued while he had been sitting there, lost in himself. Regardless if he had thought they could do this without him, no way would he have let them stay trapped in their schoolbus for the whole drokking day!

He looked right to where Espos had the crowds cordoned of from getting nearer, then turned left, walking past a big black thing, catching up with the fire chief.

"Chief, the kids rescued yet?" He asked, grabbing the man's shoulder to attract his attention.

"No, no progress yet."

"What? It's been hours?" The elf was aghast if that was the case.

"No it hasn't. you've only been sitting there half hour, tops."

The elf pointed at the stars. "It's night time, Man!"

"Ah, that happens around here. We have really short days."

Yav paused. "It was only mid afternoon when I sat down, what is it, a solar eclipse?"

Herb shrugged. "Our best scientists looked into it. Turns out our orbit is fragged."

Yav looked around, distracted. "Do you hear a rumbling sound, like an avalanche?"

Herb cocked his head. "Yeah. Coming from underneath us?"

"Oh, that can't be good."

Chet calls for help from behind you.

"And who the heck is Chet?" Yav wondered aloud as the assist request flashed across his minds eye, turning round to look in the designated direction, only to find himself facing an overhanging wall of dark metal, the huge digger that he had seen passing earlier.

It was leaning dangerously to one side, and the elf could see the right-hand tracks grinding deeper into the gash that was glowing orange and opening up under the vehicle. Even as he watched, slowly coming to realise what he was seeing, dirt was flowing into the gash formed a widening crack under the digger which quickly lengthened along the ground towards him and the fire chief!

To be continued...

 

IC: Winterkill
Streets of CSA Spaceport, en route to armory

Sound mind?

Winterkill actually chuckled at that. Who in the Mercs was possessed of a sound mind? He doubted such a person actually existed. Havah Jeth was apparently in a good mood, since he was being so humorous.

Besides, he had fallen way behind on his kill-count. He definitely needed every opportunity to try and catch up to the arkanian. Why throw away the chance?

As for Tiaca ( now he knew her name), he rather liked her idea as well.

Nodding, he looked at one to the other, an impish smile appearing for just a moment on his face, before fading away into the pale unreadable mask once again.

“Sounded to me like you liked her idea too.” He said matter-of fact, but with a perceptible hint of humor.

“So, is there public records of the Garrison’s interior? at least the stock model. It would give us a general idea of key locations. Those turrets will need to be taken off the grid before we make our escape, should we fail to shut the whole thing down.”

The nagai offered a slow nod, his eyes narrowing with steely determination. Some of what he said was clearly obvious, but it was best to air out the details. That's what kept operatives alive.

“Let’s do it. I’m sure Tiaca could find a suitable bounty one of us could impersonate.”

The cold smile returned again.

Once that happened, they’d have to come up with the most expedient plan to carry out their mission. There was very little room for error.

Whatever happened, this was going to be...'fun'.


Tag:Mitth_Fisto

 

IC: Havah Jeth / Tiaca
Streets of CSA Spaceport, en route to armory

Hearing Winterkill chuckle caused Havah to grin, this was good, things needed to be moved slightly to get their collaboration going. After all he was going to be keeping Tiaca on the ground and not in some space battle. The kid was good, but there was a reason she always did boarding actions or ground captures and not space battles, she was a natural. Still part of this plan didn't sound good to him, but he supposed it was what it had to be.

"Been inside once, I think Tessor had more maps." Tiaca replied as she tried to remember where her mentor had parked his ship. "If we pick up his body we can probably get a descent map."

"Sounds like a plan, Winterkill go with her, and I'll see about something to keep us covered." Havah simply stated before heading off in his own direction away from the CSA garrison.

"Body pick-ups should be by the main customs office." Tiaca replied while eyeing Winterkill up and down. Perhaps there was a prisoner she could have him impersonate, he could be a close match for a Sephi she had seen a warrant out for.

TAG: Greyjedi125

 

OOG: Short post tonight. I'll be getting to Lasso and company tomorrow or Thursday. Sorry for the delay on Lasso.


IC: Dak, M-3PO military protocol droid
Warehouse District, near the Spaceport


Music: Mission Impossible Theme Song


The thing about Dak was, he wasn't just any military protocol droid. No, the ole Captain Rick Taller had upgraded him rather extensively. Outwardly to the masses outside of the Mercs, he was merely a military protocol droid. To the Mercs themselves, he was a efficient, loyal. and often times mysterious assistant to then Captain Taller and now Captain Lasso. To the Mercs' enemies, he was a a skillfully programmed assassin, counter-intelligence and intelligence gathering, interrogation, and battle droid. He had hidden compartments in his legs, back, and he was coated in Reflec. His durasteel armor gave him added protection; his droid body in general has been modified to eliminate all non-essential noise and quiet all essential noise to a bare whisper if not completely eliminate it all together. His joints had been reinforced and modified to allow him to jump from a ten story building and land almost as quiet as a leaf. He had been upgraded with combat skills well beyond a normal battle droid and his sniper skills were second to none. He was able to fly starfighters, freighters, starships, and most other land, sea, or air vehicles and vessels and even do modest repairs on all of them. With all of that said, he maintained his original programming with basic upgrades to the software.

So when Matron's communication interrupted his Mission Impossible Theme Song had had been playing inside his head from a saved file, the droid rolled his eyes as he hung upside down from a overhung liquid carrying pipe, a armed guard below.

"Dak from Matron. I'm with Mary. Do you need us there, or should we stay separate as backup?"

Well, what was he supposed to do? He couldn't respond right now, for that would blow his coverage. Yea, the young Captain had said to find a base of operations. Well, he took a detour when he saw a healthy dose of army surplus land speeders and cargo speeders heading this way. Long behold, there was a whole operation going down over here. Question was, what type of operation? Normally, when your local security carried outlawed blasters and wore a variety of mismatched armor protection, combined with the military surplus vehicles being used, it spoke the illegal type. But, Dak was going to give these multi-culutural and multi-species bad guy types the benefit of the doubt, despite the "timely" lack of Espos patrols in the area, Speaking of a lack of Espos patrols, this area might be a great place for a base of operation, so as long as they didn't disrupt these bad boys.

If he could roll his eyes he would. Instead, he quietly slipped back up the pipe, the armed guard smoking a cigarette looking up at the slight noise but seeing nothing.

Sitting on the roof behind a over sized heater unit and in a blind spot to the rest of this bad boy operation, Dak answered the comm call.

"Negative, Matron. Head back to the Gamble, but don't reach it. Just hang out around it. I have a feeling we're in over our heads here. I'll explain later. Dak out."

The droid put the comlink away and was about to resume his Mission Impossible music when suddenly he felt a massive shock and everything went blank.


TBC, Tag Sith-I-5

 

IC:Winterkill
Streets of CSA Spaceport, en route to armory

The mission was already taking a curious turn, but what else was he to expect. This was the story of the quick and the dead.

From the looks of it, Tiaca was already formulating a plan, given her once over of his person. That, or she was planning on serving roasted nagai for dinner. Time would tell. Apparently she also knew where to get more detailed plans of the garrison. That, they would need asap. Every minute wasted would work against them.

“Lead the way…”

Winterkill finally said, in his typical cryptic sounding fashion.

Tag:Mitth_Fisto

 

IC: Yavscout, Fire Chief Herb and Chet (nrcs), UIS Mines
Location: Craci Prime, dozen kilometres from Imperial-class Spaceport


The elf had shoulder-barged the fire chief out of the way as the gap in the ground had lengthened towards, and then past them as they lay sprawled in the dirt.

The fiery glow permeating through the grass-edged crack was more visible in the absence of daylight.
Yav rolled back onto his belly to follow the furrow's progress as it hit the crater wall.

At first it seemed that the crack had stopped in its tracks, but as he watched, a near-vertical dimple formed in the black sand of the slope, two sides flowing inwards towards a deepening trench.

"Guess that answers my question as to whether there is a cavern beneath us."

Herb jumped to his feet, and raced to the cordon, passing the digger on the side that it was leaning over, oblivious to the danger that it could fall on him.

"Not that way!" The elf tried to warn, but Herb was yelling and gesticulating himself, telling the Espos and the other rescuers to move everyone back another three hundred metres.

Yav sprang up to watch the firefighter to ensure he cleared the danger area, and really wishing he had a jedi's ability to Force Push, then, when he could see Herb was safely clear, he crossed to the leaning vehicle's left side and jumped up onto the heavy, mud-encrusted caterpillar treads that had now lifted up to the height of his own chest, and using hands, elbows and knees, and at the expense of his t-shirt, he managed to clamber up the slope of the vehicle's sides to the half durasteel, half plexiglase of the driver's cab, where the clearly frightened human operator in his shiny UIS-branded hardhat stared back at him through the glase.

Yavscout stared PAST the man, out the opposite window, at a view that was half shadowed grass, half fire-wreathed pit!

That crack had clearly widened dramatically under the digger's weight since the fire chief had ran across it.

"OPEN THE DOOR!" Yav bellowed.

<YOU DON'T THINK I TRIED THAT?!> Chet mouthed back at him. He was probably shouting too, but the the Surefall Paramedic quickly surmised that the cab was probably soundproofed.

"WELL I'M NOT FRAGGING PSYCHIC!"

<GET ME OUT OF HERE!> The driver rattled the interior door handle and slapped ineffectively at the glase.

Yavscout rattled the exterior handle, then, stepping up a gear, in turn, punched the glase, elbowed the window, and headbutted the pane, then, holding his forehead in a bit of a daze, tumbled back off the vehicle to slam hard to the ground, growling.

"Bastiche!" Yav forced himself to stop rolling, gritted his teeth against the headache, rose, and still swaying, targeted himself to cast Strength of Earth.

The spell fizzles. You are distracted. flashed into his mind as the buff failed.

Well of course I'm distracted, he thought to himself angrily, I've got drokking concussion!

He'd have to heal himself first, get rid of the headache. Not a moment to waste, he cast Healing.

The spell fizzles. You are distracted.

He stopped now, and although the digger was now almost on it's side, and in danger of falling into the ragged, heat-belching excavation, he brought both hands together just in front of, and just under, his chin, index and forefingers touching at the pads, and moved the half-fists straight down slowly whilst slowly exhaling a cleansing breath.

Healing.

Blue luminescent sparkles showered over the elf as a spell finally worked.

Tag: Atin

 

IC: Ton'y (NPC)
Earning his fare, streets of Craci Spaceport

It had been a slow night for Ton'y here in the spaceport district. Sure it was early yet and most of the drunks weren't calling in for rides home or back to their ships, but usually there was less boredom. At least he thought there was. Ton'y's memory wasn't the greatest, the result of too many hits to the head, but at least he knew it. The Besalisk was a boxer by trade, though he wasn't a very good one (he knew that too, which is why he had to drives cabs for a living). Still he loved hitting, so he stuck with it. Who knew maybe someday it would click for him and he could drop this dead end job as an aircab driver. Until then though it paid the rent.

He had just dropped off a bunch of pub crawlers at the Low Night's bar, spacers in town while their cargo was unloaded by union dockworkers, when he saw a group hailing him down to be picked up. Two looked fairly young, while the other was....well who knew how old he was with all that gear. What was he, a chaperone? They got in the cab and the armored one handed him a large stack of credits.

"Warehouse district."

Large stack of credits, a general destination not a specific one. Yeah Ton'y was dumb, but he wasn't that dumb. He would take the extra cash and forget all about this fare when it was over. He rubbed his face with one of his four hands. Thankfully that wouldn't be too difficult for him.

The group climbed into the cab with the younger pair taking the forward seats and the big one in the rear. Normally Ton'y liked to yak it up with his fares. It helped pass the time and he always liked meeting new people, but the stack of credits and the demeanor of the big guy told him he should stay quiet. He did if he could take the big guy in a fair fight though. He liked to think he could, but deep down he knew better.

"How close are we?"

It took him a moment to realize the woman was talking to him. "uhhhh.... Not that much further." A rustling from the back of the aircab as the big guy shifted around a bit told Ton'y that this was enough interaction and he shut up at that point and he took them the rest of the way in silence.

---

IC: Beskaryc Taab
cramped in the back of the aircab, streets of Craci spaceport.

Taab was having misgivings about hailing the aircab. It was cramped and uncomfortable back here, especially wearing all his armor. He rolled his shoulders, he was still a formidable warrior, but he just wasn't as flexible as he used to be. Next time we steal transport and deal with the consequences later. He listened with half an ear to the conversation of Edge and Lasca. It was nothing that would sink the Mercs so it let it continue. If they said too much he would have to slot the aircab driver which would ruin their low key approach. Of course it would also garner them their own transport while on world. Taab was sure that the droid could alter it's ID tag to allow for their continued anononimity. Taab began to weigh the pros and cons of the idea in his mind...

"How close are we?"

"uhhhh.... Not that much further."

Taab cracked his knuckles and the cabbie shut up after that. Good, killing him before they reached their destination could have gotten messy. The rest of their journey went quickly...and quietly. As the crew filed out of the aircab Taab turned to the driver one last time. He still hand't decided on whether to just kill the four armed alien yet or not. His carbine slung over his right shoulder, the fingers of his left hand twitched near his sidearm. Instead though he reached into a pouch on his belt and pulled out another few credits, tossing them to the driver who actually caught them rather gracefully. "We were never here, yes?" Taab said with a polite menace in his voice.

"Neither was I," the cabbie replied before driving off in haste.


Taab turned to Edge and Lasca. "Lets get mov..." but then he cocked his head to the side as an incoming transmission interrupted him.

"Taab, Lasso here. Contact, Down Town night life. Four Scout Troopers and Espo support. Blind man is gone. Keep on mission and----" the words were drowned out by blaster fire and the comm signal dropped off. Shab. A few moments earlier and he would have just turned the aircab around. Now they were stuck here without it. He had no choice but to get to the droid and hope that it had secured transport along with a safe house.

"Skipper is... having fun without us," he informed the others with a shake of the head. He and Winterkill had put the Captain through the ringer, honing his already formidable combative techniques. Hopefully he remembers that training. "Let's get to the droid and see what it has for us." He swiveled his head back and forth, now, where was Dak?

TAG: Heavy Isotope, Skywalker_T-65, Bravo

---

IC: Atin Taab
Driving the streets of Craci Spaceport, CSA

The Verpine jizz metal was blasting as Atin came around another curve in his "appropriated" speedervan. The vehicle had a harsh ride and was in serious need of mechanical help, but beggars couldn't be choosers. Considering who he had stolen it from he was glad it ran at all. Up ahead now he could see the flashing lights of rescue vehicles, some of which had created a perimeter around whatever the problem was. Atin had no idea what had happened here just yet, but it looked like the locals were pulling out all the stops. He would need to find a way to get past the perimeter first.

Halting the speeder van outside, he emerged wearing his full kit. He was tall for his age, and to the aruetii (foreign) police he would look much as any other Mandalorian bounty hunter, if a bit slight of build. Still the armor helped to bulk him up and mitigated that slightly. He approached one of them. "So, where's the fire?" and got a condescending look in return. Not the best start. Cursing himself Atin tried to take stock of what was going on.

From what he could see there was...something in that crater. He tried to comm the elf but his comm system (along with his HUD) was acting up. He couldn't contact buir (father) either, some sort of interference wasn't allowing for enough time for the secure link to be established. shab as Dad would say. He tried with the Espo again. "Look I'm here to help with the rescue effort. I have a friend down there....somewhere" That was stretching things more than a bit. He and the elf were not close. In fact the guy kind of gave Atin the creeps, something that the younger Mandalorian would never admit to his father. Looking past the perimeter now he could see rescue vehilcles trying to jury rig a way to get down to whatever was at the bottom of the crater.


There was a rumble from out in the darkness, and people started screaming as the cordon was pushed back. Atin was pushed back with them, but slewed the view in his HUD to look behind him, searching for the elf. Was that...? He stopped, turned around and then magnified the view, zooming in on the digger that was leaning precariously over. The image fizzled for a moment, another symptom of the interference but resolved itself shortly. Yeah, that was the elf all right, up on the cab. What was he doing there? He was crazy, but Atin had to give this to him, he would risk anything for a rescue. Proving the point Yav headbutted one of the the cab's windows and promptly fell from the vehicle. That was Atin's cue.

"Watch the backblast," he called out as he primed his jetpack. The cordon had been pushed back by now, and those surrounding the Mandalorian heeded his words. He ignited hit jetpack flying over the Espo perimeter before they could react bringing himself down for a landing next to the Yav who seemed to be...well doing what the elf did. Atin sunk slightly into the soft ground, and saw the widening chasm that threatened to consume the digger. "Oh...there's the fire." he said rather sheepishly before looking down to the elf again. "Hey Commander, need a hand?"



TAG: Sith-I-5

 

IC: Captain Jason Lasso
Low Night's Bar, somewhere near the Spaceport in the city


"Well," Jason said more causally then he really meant as he leaned up against Mr. Vortex's office wall, "We could just wait here and get blasted. Or we can act."

"That would be very...bad," Vortex said as he looked at the mercenary with his arms crossed over his chest and a muddy boot stain now from the mercenary's boot on his clean white wall, "Your boot, could you remove it from my wall?"

Lasso looked at his boot, shrugged, and brought it off the wall and on top the carpet. "Well, you'll have a new office soon enough. When do we get started?"

"That's rushing things," Vortex said.

Jason shrugged, "There's Imps on this planet that know us. I aim to get off this planet as quickly as possible. This ain't my ideal ground to have a fight if I can avoid one. And if the Imps know us, then that means they might have been following you too. Just saying."

"What have you done!? If the Empire discoveries I've been---"

"Stop it! You wanted to hire mercenaries, well mercenaries aren't the most legal folks around. It comes with the risk. My crew will do their jobs. Our end of the deal will be complete. The rest will be up to you."

"Fine, fine. I will get you the money tomorrow. Any transcations this late and of the large sum we're talking about would raise red flags my way. I'll have to hid it in several withdraws for work."

"I don't care how you do it," Lasso said, "Just get it done. You know how to contact me. If we move too quick, the Empire will catch on. So we'll have to move quickly in getting set up, but not act for another few days. Let the trail grow cold and then we act."

"Whatever," Vortex said, gathering his things to leave for the night, "If this comes back on me, there won't be a place for you to hide in this galaxy."

"We'll both be dead Mr. Vortex if that happens anyways. So don't sweat the small stuff."

With that, Lasso left the office, the mysterious blind man standing outside.

"Well," Lasso said, grabbing a cigar and popping it into his mouth and lighting it with a match, "We have ourselves a contract. Lets just hope Mr. Vortex doesn't get cold feet and sell us out to the Empire."

Lasso's comm beeped, “Lasso, Ayres here. We’ve got ourselves a ride.”

"Good," Lasso responded, "Meet us outside Low Night's. We're going to head towards the warehouse district. Dak hasn't reported in yet and it's making me grumpy. And I don't like grumpy. Lasso out."

Jason looked to the old blind man, "Okay old man, your the token blind man of the group. Maybe your a good luck charm, right?" Jason winked and lead the older man downstairs and to wait outside for their ride.

On his way out, Lasso commed Taab, "Taab, Lasso. We're clear. Heading to meet you. We have a ride."


TAG greyjedi125, Vehn, Master Selkath, Bardan_Jusik
OOG: Grey, do you need me to RP your character until your back?

 

IC: Yavscout, UIS Mines
Location: Carci Prime, 12 klicks outside Imperial Class Spaceport


The elf felt relieved and refreshed when the spell worked, then felt that he was no longer alone next to the trapped digger.

As Master Yoda would have said, There is...another.

"Oh...there's the fire." A tall dark image said rather sheepishly before looking down to the elf again. "Hey Commander, need a hand?"

Ah, it's Atin, Yav realised after a moment, recognising the filtered voice and dark armour. He nodded paternally up at the lad, "Su'cuy ad'ika (Hey Kiddo)."

He liked to be able to greet beings in their own language, and with a pair of Mandalorians aboard, he had taken it upon himself to learn some basics, and practise them in his cabin.

Deputy had assisted by shocking him with his electro-jabber if his pronounciations were off, which was the real reason the elf had taken to locking him out and engaging in furniture piling.
As yet, he didn't know the line the astromech was spinning to Security, despite one of the B1s offering to replenish his fresher rolls.

"You okay?" Yav enquired as he re-cast Strength of Earth on himself, the buff landing properly this time, the elf already feeling better. He mentally selected Endure Fire to cast next, waiting for Taab's boy to respond.

Atin

---

IC: Nurse Ulrike, Crewperson Mary Formal, the Moon Over Agua bar/restaurant.


Despite Dak not being able to see her over the comlink, she nodded as the protocol droid eventually responded, "Negative, Matron. Head back to the Gamble, but don't reach it. Just hang out around it. I have a feeling we're in over our heads here. I'll explain later. Dak out."

Opposite her, Mary had reached down into one of her shopping bags, and was trying to open a hand-sized blister pack one-handedly, easily puncturing through the cardboard backing and transparent plastic sealing in the Scout Trooper blaster, but not having great success opening the thing fully, the package sliding round the table, or hanging off her fingers.

Ulrike stowed the comlink, and settled in to watch the humanoid.

At length she enquired, “What the frag are you doing?”

“Well, Dak took so long to answer, that I decided to give Roberta an airing.” Mary explained as her uninjured fingers chased the package round the table.

“Roberta?”

“It’s a Biker’s Hold-Out Blaster. B.H.O.B. And what is Bhob short for?”

“Kate?”

“No! Roberta.” Mary nodded across the table. “Has your stingbeam got a name?”

The medic snorted. “Yeah, cos that’s what Mercs do; name our weapons.”

“Chief Williams has Sandy.” She referred to the Chief Engineer’s DLT-20A long-barrelled blaster rifle.

“Yeah, and I suppose we did have Alison.” Ulrike reached over to take the punctured packaging in both hands, and carefully opened it, while its owner looked on patiently.

“Alison?”

“One of our security droideka. We lost her on a mission a few months ago. Not long before you turned up.”

Mary nodded, noting that she had even referred to the destroyer droid as ‘her’. She turned sideways out of the booth, leaning down to pluck a pair of wellies from one of the mass of shopping bags, and placed them side-by-side on the table, toes facing deeper into the establishment.

The glossy white boots had pink flowers and a holster moulded to the outside of one, in the style of a scout trooper's boot, to accept the holdout pistol that they had unpacked.
“You think I should wear these?”

"Maybe with one of your skirts, but with that outfit, I'd go with the thigh holster." Ulrike looked over the purchases. "Oh, but we have made an error."

“Oh? In what way?”

"Your 'Roberta', my stingbeam; both short-range weapons. If we get attacked near the Luck's Gamble, the enemy would have to be almost on top of us for these to be any good."

Mary dropped the wellies back in the back, and picked out a black holster and velcro straps, then hooked Roberta off the table with her pinky, rising from the booth.
“I'm going to the fresher to get this fitted.”

"Yeah, you and your one hand". The medic stepped carefully over her bags, palmed the thigh holster, and squatted beside the other woman's leg. "Sit down, eat your chip, and keep a look out; I'll fit it." She looked out the window at the twilight street. "Night-time already."

Tag: any

 

IC: Mahaben
Low Night's Bar, interior

The miraluka did not have to be inside the room with Captain Lasso to see what was going on, thanks to his very special sight. True, he could not hear what was being said, but he did not need to. He could feel the exchange quite clearly from where he stood.

After being on his own for so long, it was going to get some getting used to, being in the same 'journey' with others. If Sodalis was right about this...well, of course she was right. The reality was, this journey meant that Mahaben would have to walk a path he had long decided to leave behind. Perhaps this was a high level trial for him as well.

The door of the office opened and out came the Captain, who immediately began to light a cigarra.

"Well, we have ourselves a contract. Lets just hope Mr.Vortex doesn't get cold feet and sell us to the Empire."

"Placing hope in a man who practices deceit for a living, captain, hardly seems prudent or comforting..."

The captain's comm beeped just then, cutting-off anything else the blind man may have had to add.

The caller was Ayres, dutifully informing the captain that he'd acquired a 'ride'. The captain made arrangements to be picked up in-front of the bar.

"Okay old man, you're the token blind man of the group. Maybe you're a good luck charm, right?" Jason winked and Mahaben shook his head slightly. Good luck charm? He highly doubted that, but he was not about to argue with the captain about his subjective perceptions and feelings.

As they walked down the stairs to the bar's main floor and began to make their way towards the exit, Mahaben leaned in close, as blind folks tended to do, but this was so his words would reach the captain alone.

"After your previous escapade, it would seem wiser to remain indoors and out of sight until your 'ride' arrives. Ayres can announce himself well enough."

Mahaben patted the Captain's comm so he would get his meaning.

"And as one who's been around the dust-bowl for sometime, using code-words would suit you best. Naming places and locations by their given names are sure ways of inviting the uninvited, unless, that is your intention. I'm certain you're well aware of this captain."

The blind man kept up with the captain well enough and did not hesitate or slow his pace. He followed as one who trusted a guide.

Once outside, the captain continued with business as usual as they waited. Mahaben on the other hand, 'looked-out' for any signs of trouble his unique perceptions could perceive, more specifically that 'sense of danger' he'd experienced the last time he'd walked through the bar's doors.

He felt grouping with the others was a capital idea. The Empire was no stranger to the phrase, 'Strength in Numbers', and at this time, neither should they.

Tag: Bravo (anyone else)

 

IC: Sydney Ayres
Inbound to the Low Night's Bar



Thrum!

Rumble!

Bang!

The engine of the A-A5 coughed and sputtered but continued to fight its way through years of neglect as the heavy speeder cruised through the streets of this nefarious CSA planet. Heads turned as Ayres passed by, bouncing up and down in the driver's seat from the heavy vibrations the engine gave off, smoke and flame belching from the exhaust pipes. The old mechanic was all smiles as he engaged the clutch and shifted the speeder into a higher gear. The transmission groaned, shuddered, and finally gave in as the speeder gained momentum. They were really cruising now and Ayres couldn't believe his luck. He loved the A-A5, always had, and now he had one all to himself. He had no intention of returning anything to the dealer back there in that shady corner lot of lost dreams. No, this lady would be staying with him and he would find a way to get its heavy form off world. He was sure Lasso would protest but he didn't care. Finders, keepers, baby.

"I had a dog once," Ayres said as he kept an eye on the heavy traffic up front. They were almost to the bar. That's where Lasso had said to meet in a recent transmission. "Beautiful arctic creature, real loud bark. Used to keep the neighbors up all night with its whining and pawing at the door. Course, see, I had the dog in the private quarters of the shipyards at Rothana so tight stuff. Anyways, you ever heard a dog bark? No? Listen to this, "Woof!" Woof!"

Ayres laughed, a manic gleam to his eye, as he rounded a corner and stopped in front of the Low Night's Bar.

"I'm going to keep working on you, Boras until you crack a smile," Sydney said as he shut off the engine and waited.

Any minute now he'd have a bunch of people loading into the old speeder. Fine with him. There was plenty of room.

The ticking of the engine as it cooled down trickled into Ayres' mind. Sydney smiled and looked over at Boras.

"Boras, do you like to watch movies with gladiators in them?"

He meant it as a joke. Ayres liked the ladies but he couldn't help but mess with the Selkath a little bit.

Tag: Bravo,Master Selkath

 

IC: Tiaca
Streets of CSA Spaceport, en route to Customs

Raising a comm channel Tiaca hailed a droid drawn rickshaw and motioned for Winterkill to take a seat before doing so herself, with a burst comm message to take them to customs she leaned back as the ride began. "It shouldn't take long to pick up the body, but I'll need you to help carry it in. Tessor was strict on no autonomous things being loose in his ship. I hope you are stronger than you look." With that she was fully prepared to sit the rest of the ride in silence. After all, what more was there to say that could be said in front of the potentially listening droid.

Then again, there was something after all, "Why this group?" she simply stated, no need to mention names or affiliations. Merely reasons for an abstract entity the man and now she worked for. Her own reasons were clear enough to her, but as for this man. . .Havah seemed, well possibly as if this was one of the people that were a reason he stayed instead of leaving when it was truly advantageous, and that, that possibility intrigued her.

TAG: greyjedi125

 

IC: Boras Felroah
Inbound to the Low Night's Bar

Boras sat in the passenger seat of the speeder and looked outside. He could tell that Sydney was in love with the speeder by the look of his eyes. Boras knew alittle bit about this speeder but knew that Sydney probably made the right choice back at the dealership.
He than heard through Sydney's comlink "Meet us outside Low Night's. We're going to head towards the warehouse district. Dak hasn't reported in yet and it's making me grumpy. And I don't like grumpy. Lasso out."

Boras now knew that this mission was about to get better. He took the flask from his belt out of his belt and took a sip as he watched the lights of the street go by. He at least knew that this speeder was perfect for whatever they would find in the warehouse district. It was menecing enough with its armor but there was one thing he loved the most, the big gun. Boras was always a fan of weapons and loved the feel of battle. He didn't go trigger happy but it made him feel young again and fighting was one of the few things that did. Many people would think it was weird because of selkath were considered peaceful but the empire changed that. He looked at the console infront of him and saw it controled the gun on the top. He looked at it and noticed the gun was loaded to the max with rounds.

"I'll just keep this in mind incase we need it for later" Boras thought to himself but couldn't help a small grin grow on his face.

Boras then looked up and Sydney talked about some dog he had and a weird impersonation of it. Boras wondered what a dog was and asumed it was some human thing. Sydney continued talking and Boras listened while calibrating the gun to his specifications on the console.

Sydney then said "Boras, do you like to watch movies with gladiators in them?"

Boras turned to Sydney and then grinned as they neared the bar.

Tag: Vehn

 

IC: Masha Tinovorsh
Warehouse District

"Skipper is... having fun without us, let's get to the droid and see what it has for us," the elder Taab looked around, Masha rubbed the bridge of her nose. "Yeah, go up to the roof, get together. Have a few laughs," Masha said sarcastically before producing a cigarra from a hard case she pulled from inside her leather jacket. Lighting up she looked over to Taab, still scanning around. So focused, she thought exhaling the smoke. Before either of the men could reply, "Well we should probably go to Dock 29. That bartender seemed to want me to go there... Think you can protect me against some slavers if things get dicey?" she asked Taab and Sunri, "Also we might be able to get a job, from the Hutts. As long as we aren't smuggling death sticks... " She took another drag and exhaled, "I'm game." Masha hoped the irony of her smoking would land. Although cigarras and deathsticks were vastly different.

She looked to the nearest warehouse, Dock..... B? Wait is there even a 29? She thought, squinted. Oh... Dock 13.... Masha was probably still a little intoxicated, or the dingy block letters next to the large, hangar style, doors were hard to read. "Well let's get to it then," she said and began to walk, trailing smoke along behind her.

The bartender's note still stuck in her mind, You played well. The thought made Masha feel a small bit of happiness as she walked on.

TAGS: Bardan_Jusik, Skywalker_T-65, and whoever will be controling Dak.

 

IC:Winterkill
Streets of CSA Spaceport, en route to Customs

The droid driven rickhsaw did not explode upon arrival, nor did it look like anyone was following it. Still, he was not about to let his guard down. This was Merc business, so he was always on alert-mode at the very least.

Tiaca motioned for him to board first, which he did, but not without being ready to ditch the ride at the first sign of trouble, because ‘trouble’ had a way of finding Mercs, no matter where they went. Unlike him, Tiaca leaned back and looked quite comfortable as the ride began. Yeah, wearing a suit of armor could do that for you.

“It shouldn’t take long to pick up the body, but I’ll need you to help carry it in. Tessor was strict on no autonomous things being loose in his ship. I hope you are stronger than you look.”

Winterkill did not answer immediately. He did not move his head, but his dark eyes glanced to the side at the reclining female bounty hunter. Her choice of words were revealing.

“Lifter pallet. You can always rent one, better choice.” He finally said as an answer. It wouldn’t do for both of them to be tied up moving a corpse. It made them vulnerable to attack.

The silence that ensued was quite welcoming. It meant he could focus on reconnaisance. If any thing or anyone was following within visual range, he would know it. Besides, neither the rickshaw nor the droid were emitting strange sounds or lights, at least thus far.

“Why this group?” Tiaca simply stated.

It was a good question. Winterkill did not know what the bounty hunter was referring to, but he knew she had not been speaking directly to him. It sounded like a self-query. These were the most important questions any being could ask, questions that could wreck absolute havok if left unanswered.

In the distance, he could almost make out the outline of the customs building.

“You do the talking.” He said in a low voice, meant for her ears only.

Tag:Mitth_Fisto

 

IC: Captain Jason Lasso
Low Night's Bar, somewhere near the Spaceport in the city


Lasso never took to codewords. He liked the idea and practiced them when he could, but often times when he got busy, he forgot to use them. The blind man had a point, however. Taking the man's advice, waiting just inside the bar. When a old A-A5 came sputtering and smoking up to the front door, Mahaben---that was the old man's name Lasso remembered now---cleared the distance and waved Lasso forward.

So much for being blind. But Lasso didn't care. The man knew what he was doing and that was enough for him...for now.

Lasso noticed that Sydney looked rather happily animated and before Lasso even reached the A-A5, Lasso saw the question forming on the old mechanic's face. "We'll find room for it."

Lasso didn't wait for a reply as he got on board, Boras in the passenger seat with a look on his face mixed between terror and a sudden knowing grin. It seemed that the "shock" of the Mercs was starting to wear off and the realization of who they really were was starting to settle in.

Lasso looked at his wrist comm, leaning in between Sydney's and Boras' seats up front to give instructions, "Last location for Dak was the warehouse district, Street AA-Three, near a open water dock area. His responder code stopped working there. Could mean anything from a bad transponder to much worse. But lets not make assumptions yet. We'll drive in, take a parking job some distance away, and then walk in. Although Sydney, if you can find a way to get this speeder truck closer under a false ID, we could use her in case things get hot. Assuming, a course, there's something there that we need a false ID for."

Lasso moved back to seat across from Mahaben on the bench seat and asked the old man, "You never told me how you escaped those Espos and Stormies back at the mall. Care to share the details?"


TAG Bardan_Jusik, greyjedi125, Master Selkath

 

IC: Military Operation Leader
Warehouse District, near the spaceport


The rumble and deafening roar of a freighter sized space craft taking off from the spaceport blew over the warehouse, it's roar sound-proofing the approach of the tall and built Duros leader as he withdrew a cigar from his mouth as he reached the bottom of the stairs from the warehouse office above. Before him, four sweat-laden soldiers carried in a black colored M-3PO military protocol droid, hulling the droid onto the heavy work table.All around them in the warehouse, various droids including large CLL-8 binary load lifters and smaller ancient BLX labor dorids and newer PK-series worker droids and RIC-series general labor droids moved smaller crates around. Outside, military surplus vehicles drove in mountains of crates, equipment, and supplies from several GR-75 medium transports docked at the space port.

"Gosh boss," said a human soldier, "He's a heavy!"

The Duros tapped the leg of the deactivated droid, "Durasteel armor," the alien said, "That's why."

"Could it be an Imperial spy droid?" Asked another human soldier.

The Duros shook his head, "Not likely. This is a custom job, this droid. The Empire works in standard models, not custom builds. But, someone knows we're here most likely. We'll have to move faster, the CSA won't be able to keep the Empire out forever. Major?"

The Duros called from behind, a Whiphid stalking up from behind, it's translator speaking after his own speech, "Yes, Colonel?"

"What's the status of the Rising Star?"

"En route, Colonel. Twenty minutes."

"Tell them to hurry. We'll need to move now."

"Yes, sir."

The Colonel turned back to the four soldiers, "Make sure you destroy the droid. We don't need any witnesses."

The soldiers nodded and one went to grab a hover chart. Frag trying to carry the bloody thing again!


TBC

 

IC: Mahaben
En route to Warehouse District, CSA

What he had in tactics, Captain Lasso lacked in tact, but such things came with the territory and sounded far worse than they actually were. It was no surprise really, who could imagine always having to conceal one’s true nature at all times just for the sake of survival. It was certainly no easy thing, but that harsh reality was a fact that the good captain was destined to face first hand.

”You never told me how you escaped those Espos and Stormies back at the mall. Care to share the details?”

Lasso had asked the question with such a casual air, it felt like a trap-and he’d almost answered. But the reality was, Mahaben only trusted Lasso…to a point. It was clear the two still had things to prove to each other beyond standard interaction. That would come with time and with that, trust. As for the others inside the air bucket-of-blots that passed for a transport speeder…well, pretty much the same rules applied.

“I managed exactly the way Sodalis would have. We’ll, not exactly perhaps, but probably with a bit less flair, but you get my meaning, hmm?”

Mahaben offered the captain a sly smile, before continuing. “I can give you a detailed report after we are done with today’s business. No point in having any gaps…and you are welcomed by the way. Your six was completely vulnerable, but not undefended.”

If Mahaben could wink, he would have, instead he simply nodded at Lasso.

“But somehow I get the feeling you might yet get to see what you may have missed.”

Just as he finished his words, the blind man realized that keeping his past origins a secret before leaving the planet was becoming an increasingly arduous task and much more difficult than what he’d anticipated. Even a destitute mechanic or a displaced selkath may be inspired to bring the law on him for coin. Nevertheless, he intended to keep his promise and hoped that loyalty trumped greed…at least in the case of the Mercs. (Not to say he was not ready-just in case it didn’t.)

Tag: Bravo, Master Selkath, Vehn

OOC: Hey, Bravo! I think you meant to tag Vehn.

 

IC: Sydney Ayres
Outside the Low Night's Bar

"Last location for Dak was the warehouse district, Street AA-Three, near a open water dock area. His responder code stopped working there. Could mean anything from a bad transponder to much worse. But lets not make assumptions yet. We'll drive in, take a parking job some distance away, and then walk in. Although Sydney, if you can find a way to get this speeder truck closer under a false ID, we could use her in case things get hot. Assuming, a course, there's something there that we need a false ID for."

Ayres fired up the HUD built into the dash of the A-A5. The screen fizzled, popped, squirreled its way to incoherence, and then died. "Now, that just won't do," Ayres muttered as he punched the dash and the screen came back to life, full of vigor, full of purpose.

"Let's see, Street AA-Three," Ayres said aloud as he inputted the destination into the HUD. A route came alive, highlighted in purple, they'd be there in a matter of minutes.

"I can do you one better, Skipper. I can give you an Imperial transponder that will get us in real close, deadly close," Ayres said as he messed around with the computer system for a few seconds. A chime sounded in the cabin. They were all set. New ID was locked in and unless anybody got real close for visual inspection, and most people rarely did these days with advances in sensor technology, they'd fly right on through.

Ayres engaged the clutch, the engine roared to life, and the Mercs were well on their way to something good, something worthwhile. As they passed through the streets, more people looked at the old speeder hovering its way through the congestion. Few had seen an A-A5 in their lifetime. That was fine with Ayres. He didn't mind show-boating for a little bit. But as they neared their destination, Ayres wanted to disappear. Wanted to have the entire speeder appear as incongruous as possible. That meant driving normally. Nothing erratic. Nothing out of the ordinary.

Sydney found a parking spot in an abandoned warehouse about a half klick from their destination. Shutting off the engine and undoing his straps, Ayres looked back at Lasso and said, "Thank you for flying Sydney's Travel Lanes. We hope that you've enjoyed your journey and that you remember us the next time you travel. Woof!"

Tag: Bravo

 

IC: Havah Jeth
Somewhere near the Garrison, outside of spaceport

After having gone a short way on foot, and verifying that neither Winterkill nor Tiaca had followed him nor tagged him with tracers he hailed a passing stretch hover car. The beast was a long black vehicle with non-reflective coating and blacked out windows, only the raised drivers window was darkly tinted allowing a clear view. As the vehicle pulled up he stood with his hands clasped behind his back and stayed that way as two Rodian's exited the vehicle and removed his weapon, belt, and helmet before placing crude manacles from some low tech world around his wrists and a black bag over his head.

The ride was quiet and neither he nor his 'captors' said anything to one another as they proceeded. He halfway wondered if they were conversing in hand signs, but quickly dismissed the notion and instead focused on the feelings of inertia that he was feeling and what he could hear. After the seventh motion that felt like a turn he noted the soft hum that had accompanied the feeling and silently cursed himself in his own mind. Inertial dampers, with a clever setting he could of ridden without ever knowing where he was going without any sensation of inertia as the hover ride progressed, only here they had not only activated them but had them programmed to make him feel as though he was taking a different route. Well, the Black Guard hadn't worked with sector spy gone rogue because they were dumb, rather because of how good the spy was. She was a mutant, like him, and for a part of him he hoped she would help him this once, as he dealt with the Captains ludicrous request.

When he was bustled out of the vehicle and taken through a garage, into a back room that smelled of cleaners, and into a final room where he was seated with his cuffs undone and redone so that now each hand was secured to the arms of a metal chair that didn't budge in all his shifting. It was then just before the black bag was removed from his head that he wondered, idly, if Pic had made contact with the correct organization. After all, his information was a few years out of date and whether things had changed was all to likely.

Then the bag was lifted and he was pleased to note that he was talking to someone of the correct species at least. The Baragwin looked him and grinned. "Glad you could make it, sorry about the accommodations but. . .you know I don't like the idea of dying just yet." Folding it's arms as much as it could the large woman leaned on the table behind her as she studied the Arkanian.

"That is alright. I don't want to kill you, just buy some information."

"And what would you pay with? Your droid? Or were you going to offer to let me turn you in for a reward to the wanting government of your choosing? Eh? All these I can already do and profit well, even get good PR with law enforcement for a while." Spreading her arms wide she chuckled, "Why would I deal when I have something you cannot buy like good PR?"

"Because, I can offer you revenge. Perhaps even a little equalizing of business relations in your favor." Havah stated calmly, letting the silence hang until the Baragwin waved away her guards, leaving them in the room alone together.

"I see what you mean, and I accept. The Hutts are hard enough to keep in check without having to worry about some of the gangs here. You know how I like to spread my time but things are hard to get started here." Wearily wiping her chin crease to remove the sweat built up there she looked at Havah, "Will the Black Guard do a full sweep or a mere hit and fade?"

"They have nothing in this and you know it, Hit and Fade though." Eyeing the woman he tilted his head as she started to move around to behind the table. "I need a. . ." furroughing his brow he paused a moment before continuing to speak. "Can it be done?"

"Done is never the question, but discretion is as always needed most highly. How long have you known I have access?" she asked as she turned away to turn back with a decanter and two large glasses which she began to fill.

"Suspected since your third month of service. Never confirmed. So can you deliver, now?" he asked and licked absent mindedly his own dry lips as she swirled the bourbon in the large glass.

"Yes. Just remember to bomb the coordinates." With that she pushed a hidden button under the table and he was surprised with a Yuzzem instead of the Rodian duo entered. After removing his manacles Havah stood and nodded to the creature that currently had a large bag strapped to a belt that likely contained his belongings.

"What coordinates?" he asked as a thought of the ride and where he would of placed himself on a map if he had not realized the inertial compensators messing with his senses.

"You already have them for your second target. Now leave before I have to put a hundred blades in your head in front of my lieutenant." she added before pushing one glass to him.

Taking the glass he raised it and with barely a thought of how refreshing a psychic, even just a reader, that played by the rules of decorum was, which was something considering how rare they were and what their reputation was, he nodded "Of course my Lady." With a downed swallow he turned to the Yuzzem and set the glass down. "Lead on." he simply stated before his last sight was of the large hairy beast as it whacked him hard enough about the head to effectively render him unconscious. A last thought before he succumbed to unconsciousness was that it was a lovely Bourbon, but certainly not worthy of a last drink.

TAG: No One

 

OOG: I did Grey, opps. Sorry Vehn.


IC: Captain Jason Lasso
Abandoned warehouse parking lot, somewhere near "The Docks" and Street AA-Three


“I managed exactly the way Sodalis would have. We’ll, not exactly perhaps, but probably with a bit less flair, but you get my meaning, hmm?”

Lasso smirked, "If I remember the good Jedi, she had a talent for making stealth ops sound like frontal assaults. A course, that was the last time we heard from her. You never did tell me if she is alive or not?" Lasso let the question hang in the air with deadly purpose. No answer was given...voluntarily. There were other methods that Lasso could utilize to find his answer to the Jedi's whereabouts. Until proven dead, she was still a Merc, still MIA, and still in need of rescuing. Taller's file on her had never been closed and nor would it be until a answer was given. Lasso would see to that.

Mahaben offered the captain a sly smile, before continuing. “I can give you a detailed report after we are done with today’s business. No point in having any gaps…and you are welcomed by the way. Your six was completely vulnerable, but not undefended.”

The mercenary Captain smiled thinly, "I trusted my six to certain company, old man. I was busy with three others. I hope I can trust my six again to certain company. Savy?"

If Mahaben could wink, he would have, instead he simply nodded at Lasso.

“But somehow I get the feeling you might yet get to see what you may have missed.”

"Maybe," Lasso concluded. He was becoming increasingly frustrated with the blind man's "around the bush" approach. Secrecy and stories were great, until Lasso got tired of them. Which was quickly. So usually a visit with a airlock and the vacuum of cold space were always an option. Taller had installed that as the Merc standard protocol of treatment to traitors...well, Lasso just expanded it to people who told stories and not the truth in a timely manner.

The old bucket of bolts probably held together with duck tape and luck came to a stop in an abandoned parking lot. The lot, like the warehouse behind it, were all dark, the only lights a few streets away in the direction closer to the docks. The salt water smell was strong here, the ocean less then a mile away.

"Thank you for flying Sydney's Travel Lanes. We hope that you've enjoyed your journey and that you remember us the next time you travel. Woof!"

Lasso shook his head with a smile, "Sydney, remind me again why I am letting you take this bucket of bolts and duck tape on my ship again?" It was a question not needing an answer; Lasso stood up and said, "Okay, we're going to change things up. Mahaben, you stay with the Chief here. Figure a Chief Mechanic and a blind man who knows how to move rather well for being blind could work well together if a rescuing is in order. Boras, your about to prove to me why I am going to paying you. Keep your cool and follow my lead. Sydney, keep eyes on us. If you don't see any trouble, roll in afterwards by a few minutes. You the good ole ISB mission cover, most people can't tell the difference between undercover government agent ops and others anyways. Or just use your imagination, but try to avoid barking. It could give us away as a legit crew," Lasso winked, "Any questions?"


TAG @Bardan_Jusik, @greyjedi125, @Master Selkath, Vehn