Private A Contractor's Dream, A Hunter's Nightmare

[Jenzid Channsalj]

Tags: Dylan Marsek
Location: Coruscant
Objective: Hunt down the Targets
Wearing: Street Clothes, ENVC-370 Bodyglove, Tinfoil Hat Band, Magno-grip Boots
Wielding: 1 Songsteel Dao Sword, 8 Terminus Shivs, 1 Kusak Blaster Pistol, Lodestone Devices, Razzmatazz Holospheres

(<<Communicator/Radio>> | 【Telepathy】| {{Dathomiri}} | -"Huttese"- | "Galactic Standard" unless specified )

"Speech."

She'd traveled for some time, sniffing out leads and everything she could while on those cold, dead end trails of this criminal that might have seen the woman she was looking for. Or this old friend of mine saw someone matching that description over that way. Normally about halfway across the galaxy it seemed.

Jenzid slowly realizing perhaps that people had been sending her on a wild gizka chase to get her away from them.

Or simply been using her to get rid of people they hadn't liked in the end. Fights usually broke out whenever she began asking questions. Or at least it felt they way anyway. The one with the Wookiee hadn't been her fault she'd explained quite clearly to the authorities. The furbag had made those weird noises and started tearing into people after she pointed out the contentious points in their contract that made them an indentured servant.

The weequay hadn't been pleased about the revelation, though could do little when their arms were being used as hammers against them while she smoked in the doorway. Alarmed but impressed by wookiees strength and anger.

Then again they had thought they were going to be treated lavishly rather than like a labor droid.

Her explanation, through a translator for clarity, hadn't been incriminating at the very least it had seemed. But the bar owner had demanded she be removed from his property. And seemed unduly angry about the whole thing.

She sighed, wanting to light another cigarra but found the binders tethered to the floor. The corners of her mouth turning down at notion of being kept in custody as the authorities figured out if they could ship her off world for the time being. Someone entered the building, getting something close to a warm greeting she guessed as the two shook hands. Or forearms it seemed as she shuffled her feet and sighed.

The peace officer pointed in her direction, with a wave to the interpreter that seemed bothered to be there at all.

The new person waved them off, catching Jenzid's interest as they spoke in Huttese with ease. -"Ma'am. I'm told you are being held until they can ship you off world but they don't know where you came from. Care to explain?"-

-"How much time do you have?"- She replied flatly, getting a sharp look from the peacekeeping officer. The snort of a laugh had the new person shaking their head and speaking with the officer before a key card was produced and unlocked the binders. Something sharply spoken her way as she stared in not understanding their words. The new person waving them off as she retrieved her personal items from the sectioned off box inside the building with a person inside.

-"They said you got a wookiee riled up in the bar downtown."- They finally asked.

-"Weequay sleemos were making them into an indentured servant. I just made the wookiee aware of the lie."- The look she received was somewhere between surprise and respect, a snort and a smile the final say as they neared another building.

-"They couldn't find a place to ship you that wasn't a prison, so I offered to have you work with us. Private Military. Need some work done. We have some bad neighbors moving in."- They explained, leading her inside before moving towards a lift.

-"What's the pay?"- The curious stare at her being met with a go on twirl of her features.

-"You don't want to know who?"-

-"Credits are king. You'll get my interest when I know the pay. Otherwise I walk."-

-"Alright."- The numbers were run through, and it made her actually look at the being in question now. Decently average, middle aged. Retired from active work, at least given the slight bulge around the belt she saw. Or was a strongman. Was difficult to tell without punching. Dressed with purpose, nothing expensive looking but also not an everyday cut with how well everything laid on their suit.

-"Interested?"-

-"You have my attention. Now who?"-

Coruscant Underbelly

The dark and sunless scape beneath the sky cutting towers of what some called the surface was a festering boil of trouble. From disgruntled beings that sneered at anything not familiar to those just trying to get by. The most recent attack on their peace and prosperity only seen restored largely on the topside.

There were still lingering side effects down below however. Slum lords raising prices to cover damages without lowering them again. Livelihoods destroyed by a small injury that the lower level tenants had to work around. Lasting side effects of what two parties had wrought by their Invasion of what was supposed to be the galaxies seat of prosperity and power.

A dream in her own mind as kids ran by her, narrowly avoiding the handle of her dadao style sword.

She hadn't run and played as they did, and it showed in the sharp and angry glare she gave the pair that had run by.

She held up the datapad, waiting for the symbols that look like incoherent scratching to translate over. She was supposed to meet someone down here. A bit green but eager to take down Mawite insurgents that had snuck planet side. She paused long enough to sniff the air, her singular eye slowly drawing itself to the source of what she guessed were some sort of noodle stand.

She pondered stopping for a bite, stomach letting loose a slow rumbling growl as she stared.

 

[Dylan Marsek]

Tags: Jenzid Channsalj​

The blinking, lively, dazzling lights shining from night clubs and cantinas alike, shone and danced over their tinted bright blue visors. Wrapped in hooded, dark gray ponchos over their unmarked, jet-black combat armor, the two mercenaries walked the busy streets of Coruscant's underworld together; feeling the incessant, penetrating gaze washing over them from head to toe from curious eyes, they expected treason behind every corner; The young men remained in close distance to one another in trained response, watching each other's backs as they traversed the highly dense urban terrain. It certainly wasn’t for the first time they had ventured into the underbellies of the planet, but they were far from being well adjusted and accustomed to the realities imposed on them by the underworld they found themselves in.

The young mercenary’s gaze darted around the busy street underneath his unmoving, tinted helmet visor as he gently parted the crowd. Raising a hand, the kid pulled down the hood draped over his helmet further down, checking his web gear for his equipment underneath his poncho for probably the hundredth time as another man rather sternly bumped into him, worried about having to deal with stolen, missing equipment in the middle of the job.

<”Didn’t think we’d be back into this chithole this soon,”> Aiden said, speaking his mind over their comlink channel, letting out a sigh. The young merc muttered a grunt over the comlink, wordlessly expressing his indifference towards the matter at hand. The last time they were here, they were tasked with bagging and tagging a Cirmuhai further down in the lower levels.

Although he certainly did not enjoy the idea of having to walk such a densely populated area, they had no other choice. The place they were supposed to reach to meet their colleague for their assignment today laid further down the street.

Not a fan of his best friend’s silence as they walked, the young techie couldn’t help but to continue idle chatter in an attempt to make his battle buddy talk to him to lift the mood some. He knew how Dylan got when he was under substantial pressure; abstaining from cracking jokes and answering banter thrown his way.<”So, which one do you think smells the worst? The sewers or the streets?”> he asked as a moment passed in silence, waving his hand before his visor at the malodor of the ever dirty, littered, unkempt streets. The mouth watering smell wafting in the air from the food stands helped suppress the stench some, but nevertheless it remained ever present:

The smell of poverty. It smelled like just exactly how he assumed it did.

The young lad heaved a sigh. <”I’d say the sewers,”> finally breaking his hour long silence, the young lad humored his buddy as he slipped his right hand underneath his poncho; continuing to feel uneasy, the anxious lad firmly grasped the ergonomic thumbhole stock of his particle blaster rifle, suspended over the front of his chest rig by its single-point sling draped over his neck.

His vigilant gaze shifted quickly from one face to another as he walked; his heart pounded against his chest plate with each step he took, understanding what they had set about to do today.

He didn’t think he had it in him; to kill another man. But it was too late to think about that now. They had accepted the contract, to rid of a terrorist cell of Mawites that had nestled into the rotten guts of the Coruscant underworld, like maggots over a festering wound.

Although he certainly did not look forward to it, this would be something he would just have to experience; something to get over with, as soon as possible. Having earned an amount of money he had never seen combined together in his life before, he had grown a liking to the mercenary’s lifestyle. It had grown on him. He could not back away from it now. With each new contract they took, the mercenary’s life pulled him deeper in.

”Don’t think about it ‘til the end of the mission” Skif had said, when he asked him how he could get around it, some time not too long ago. Was it so easy? Shutting off the fact that you had just taken somebody’s life? He was uncertain of the answer to that question, but he was certain he would find that out today, and soon.

The idea of having to fight against the Mawites surprisingly eased his mind. Having read how despicable they were. It helped him desensitize them in his mind. Maybe that was the key. To desensitize them, dehumanize them to a point one would not feel even the slightest of remorse, or second doubts before snuffing out their lives at the gentle squeeze of a trigger.

Failing to help ease his friend’s mind for the moment, Aiden would chirp over the comlink yet again, after falling into a moment’s silence, drawing the kid’s attention at their person of interest, standing twenty meters in front of them at the side of the street.

<”Hey, check it out,”> the young man muttered as he hastily took a few steps forward and briskly got to Dylan’s side, nudging him by his bicep with his elbow as he gave a curt nod of his head towards the long, silver haired woman with a black eyepatch covering her right eye, bearing a sheathed sword; a datapad in her hands. <”She fits the description,”> the young lad muttered, thinking out loud. Shifting his gaze from the woman for a moment, the young man scanned the sea of people before him in the street for a similar individual that fit the description they were given by their client to find their new colleague. <”You see anyone else that matches the description?”> the young lad asked.

Flipping open the touch screen of his wrist computer with a precise flick of his right wrist, the young techie checked the information they were provided in silence. Closing the screen after taking a gander at his notes, the young man shook his head in silent response, seeing nobody else that fit her description.

<”Alright then. We’ve found her,”> he said as he picked up the pace, gently pushing and weaving around the sea of people in the streets; his buddy close behind.

Approaching her from the side, the young lad would attempt to get her attention with a faint wave of his left hand. <”Silver Lady, I presume?”> entering her earshot distance, the young lad would ask at a hushed tone, a forethought against unwelcome eavesdroppers, hoping his voice to be low enough to fade into background noise, but high enough to be heard by the woman standing a few steps before him.

 

[Jenzid Channsalj]

Tags: Dylan Marsek
Location: Coruscant
Objective: Hunt down the Targets
Wearing: Street Clothes, ENVC-370 Bodyglove, Tinfoil Hat Band, Magno-grip Boots
Wielding: 1 Songsteel Dao Sword, 8 Terminus Shivs, 1 Kusak Blaster Pistol, Lodestone Devices, Razzmatazz Holospheres

(<<Communicator/Radio>> | 【Telepathy】| {{Dathomiri}} | -"Huttese"- | "Galactic Standard" unless specified )

She had enough time to watch a bowl be served before footsteps off to her side drew her attention. There was a subtle difference between those of a passerby and that of intent. The measure of one's step. The solid footing they usually kept with tight formation of their training. Or lack there of. It told a lot about the experience wielded by such that approached with intent.

And had she not been steeped in the life of hunting others for a Hutt, would likely have never learned to be so hypervigilant.

It was like a buzz that never stopped. A wary caution that was engraved into the bone. Lessons from the coven before her mother had fled with her. Training and more training without pause. Perfection as they called it.

She turned before they spoke, the low wave of their hand drawing a curious look from her as she returned the gesture. A strange custom for the inner-never mind. A mental thought that she didn't finish as they spoke. And her stance shifted to polite but amused patience.

She'd been told the duo she'd be working with would be well armored. And armed judging by the slight distortions of their ponchos. A tactic used to surprise the enemy and friend alike at times. Gear not easily seen couldn't be accounted for in determining combat ability. But highly visible gear could also lead to overconfidence in either party.

Parts of the words filtered through, the slight squint of her eye at guessing what had been said. A hand rose to her chest with a nod.

-"Silver Lady, yes."- She spoke in what she figured was her clearest Huttese. She motioned around them intent before speaking again.

-"We find a quiet place. Discuss."- The final look at the food stand stand a longing one as she promised herself to try something from there before she left Coruscant.

The little stand had looked like the ones in the brochures on the flight in.

 

[Dylan Marsek]

Tags: Jenzid Channsalj​

The Silver Lady, whose awareness appeared sharper than the blade she carried with her, turned at the two of them before they could speak, responding to the young merc’s wordless greeting with her own, in a similar fashion to his. The two had doubts about her no longer. She was the one; their colleague they were supposed to meet with, before carrying out their contract.

As he spoke, Dylan couldn’t help but notice her one good eye squint, as if she tried to understand them. Not long after, the woman answered his question in silence at first, with a self-referential gesture of her hand.

A quizzical expression would appear in his features underneath the tinted helmet visor when the Silver Lady spoke at a tounge foreign to him. The two mercenaries exchanged looks in silence for a moment. Although he could not see his features underneath the helmet visor, Aiden too appeared to be puzzled. The background noise of people talking, laughing loudly, eating and drinking by the food stand also did not help them understand the woman.

<”You catch what she said?”> the young merc curiously asked his friend beside him.

The young techie shook his head as he flipped open his wrist computer with the flick of his wrist. <”Unsure… But give me a second,”>

As the techie’s fingers danced over the touch pad of his wrist computer’s screen, the young lad waited in silence, casting his glance at his surroundings; the featureless visor helped him face down several owners of curious eyes looking in their direction.

Quickly analyzing the piece of the helmet cam footage where the woman had spoken to them in a foreign alien tongue, filtering out the background noise and cross referencing the language they heard with the language database of his universal translator, it did not take long for the techie to figure out she was in fact talking to them in Huttese.

<”It’s Huttese,”> Aiden informed his friend as he went about adjusting the parameters of the universal translator built into his helmet.

Turning his head to throw a glance at the techie, the young merc’s head tilted to the side in an expression of wonderment in response as their visors met. <”Huttese?”> the young man repeated. <”Why not Basic?”> Dylan asked as he turned his visor towards the woman now. None the wiser, Aiden shrugged in silent response.

Letting go of the particle rifle for the moment, the young man slipped his right hand from underneath his poncho, and adjusted the universal translator’s parameters to understand and talk in Huttese with the help of his right wrist computer. Finishing the calibrations, and having been informed by Aiden as to what she had said, the young man gave her a nod of his head. <”Follow me,”> the young man said, speaking in a foreign language he did not understand, with the help of the translator.

Slipping his hand under the poncho once again to grasp the particle rifle underneath, the young man turned around and entered the crowd of people walking the streets, moving towards an alley not far. Quick to follow him, Aiden kept up with him just a few feet behind his friend into the alley.

The small, dirty water puddles splashed softly underneath the young man’s combat boots, walking past garbage containers and occasionally piles of trash to get a moment’s respite from the buzzing, lively underworld that surrounded them all. Coming to a halt after assuming they reached a spot secluded enough from the bustling undercity, the two turned around, their eyes meeting the woman’s.

<”So, I reckon you haven’t reconnoitered the area of operations yet?”> The young merc asked. They were provided some intel by their client upon taking the contract, but that left things to be desired. They were given the rough coordinates about the Mawite cell’s whereabouts in the Coruscant’s underworld, and not much else. They had to see their numbers, their firepower and just how much their base for operations were fortified, for themselves.

 

[Jenzid Channsalj]

Tags: Dylan Marsek
Location: Coruscant
Objective: Hunt down the Targets
Wearing: Street Clothes, ENVC-370 Bodyglove, Tinfoil Hat Band, Magno-grip Boots
Wielding: 1 Songsteel Dao Sword, 8 Terminus Shivs, 1 Kusak Blaster Pistol, Lodestone Devices, Razzmatazz Holospheres

(<<Communicator/Radio>> | 【Telepathy】| {{Dathomiri}} | -"Huttese"- | "Galactic Standard" unless specified )

The tense silence after her words gave her pause. These seemed like the two she was supposed to meet. Acklay 3 and 4 if she remembered right.

Each messed with something on their wrist before the words she heard changed from what she guessed was Basic to Huttese. An amused but equally pleased look crossing her face. The one lead the way, and she followed behind leaving the din of life behind them for a short time.

It had always been that full of noise at one point or another in her life, and the common sounds always drifted into a comfortable white noise for her whenever she was working in a civilized place. The quiet made her worry more than the busy sounds.

In equal measure both were horrible for an assassin.

The armored pair made a bit of noise as they walked. The sound of gear rubbing against something solid. Likely their armor. Holsters and other pouches with whatever they contained. All small noises lost in the crowds but amplified by the close quarters and hyperfocus she could not turn off.

Her own footsteps in her boots only slightly less noisy than theirs. Her concern wasn't in hiding from them, meaning she didn't have to focus on tiring out her legs just yet with practiced steps.

The time to share information came and she scratched her chin before speaking.

-"A little. Wasn't going inside without backup. Haven't dealt with this Maw group before. Didn't know what to expect."- She shrugged before producing a holomap pad from her pocket.

The projection lit up, highlighting a small set of decrepit buildings on a level two floor down.

-"Place was an office building. Outside looks weak from age but inside might be different. Saw a genny being carried in while I was watching. Likely more inside. Can't give numbers or gear, but they have power so maybe a portable genny gun inside."- The Floorplan that floated over the current decrepit state of the building gave a better idea of the layout. She didn't share how she had been scouting since people got nervous about possession and the like.

The ghost image of a fresh building showing what time had done to the office. A portion having sluffed off from what was likely a higher ups office to give a view of the street around it while looking down into a tiny courtyard with benches and three paths to a single entrance at the front of the building. A double door at the entrance that opened into a greeting area with halls adjoining either side and opening into what was likely a workspace. The back section of the building claimed by a janitorial area on the first floor and a lunchroom on the second.

It had been a large room with separate cubicles for workstations, but without anything to update the space was greyed out for the time being. Both flanking edges of the work area on the ground floor had private offices or similar, roughly three rooms on both sides that opened into one another with a modular wall for what was likely large meetings as needed.

Her singular eye focused on the second story pointing to the balcony over the workspace on three sides. More offices flanked the two edges while the main office sat in the center over the front entrance and greeting area.

-"Good spot to shoot down from. A few choke points but there's a side access in the janitor hall. Building had holonet access at one time so might have a camera or something inside. Thoughts?"-

 

[Dylan Marsek]

Tags: Jenzid Channsalj​

The holomap projection of the high-rise compound reflected on the tinted helmet visor of the pair. Uncaring as to how she got ahold of the floorplans, the mercenaries studied the blueprints in silence, while the Silver Lady presented them what she knew of the compound the Mawite cell had holed up in.

Unknown number of hostiles, a heavy repeater or two inside, a possible power source in the form of a generator… They had little to work with, but they could still formulate a solid plan with just these.

Though before carrying out the assault, it would be best to recon the area up close.

Sure, they had access to the floor plans of the office building left to rot, but perhaps the defenders had taken up the hobby of renovating the interior. There was no telling how much they fortified the interior as a preliminary preparation for an attack, until they saw them first hand during the moment of truth.

Maybe they had gone as far as rigging up the reception area with explosive traps.

They couldn’t really know what sort of nasty surprises the defenders had in store for them, without getting a closer look.

Pondering in silence for a moment, the young merc would speak his mind in Huttese with the help of his universal translator built into his helmet. <”We’re gonna have to take a closer look once we’re there,”> The bright blue tinted visor shifted away from the floor plans and turned to his battle buddy beside him. <”Could use your probe to get a better idea as to what we’re dealing with.”>

The techie gave a nod of his head at Dylan. <”Yeah… Could use a probe in case the holonet access turns out to be a bust,”> He said, agreeing with the need for more reconnaissance before commencing their attack.

The young man would continue shortly after voicing his agreement. <”But my concern is the things left unaccounted for,”> the mercenary voiced his apprehension.

The young merc gave a silent nod of his head, concurring with the techie. Although there was always the possibility to face something unexpected during an operation, the mercs prefered to leave very little to chance.

<”You guys think they have reinforcements of some kind lying in wait, in case their compound comes under attack?”> The young man asked the two of them; a quizzical expression emerged from his masked visage underneath the helmet visor as he looked at the woman, then at his friend to his left. <”I can always jam their coms, but maybe they’d get a word out before that,”>

The young lad shrugged at his question before voicing his insight. <”A likely possibility, but I don’t find it too bothersome. There are but a few roads leading to the building,”> he said. He extended a knife hand, pointing at the paths leading towards the compound. <”I can mine those approaches with some laser trip mines and land mines. Could work for an improvised, early warning system in case they call for reinforcements,”>

The featureless tinted visor turned to look at the floor plans of the structure in front of him afterwards.

<”Me and my buddy can hit the compound in a frontal assault once we get a grasp of what exactly we’re up against after a quick recce. And while we’d have their attention, you could make your way inside from a secondary access, and strike them from the rear and the flank,”> The kid quickly came up with a possible game plan, voicing the idea. <”Knocking out their primary power source, powering the structure can also come in handy. Maybe not all of them have night vision devices,”> the kid theorized further.

Raising his gaze from the map laid out before them, the kid looked at the Silver Lady’s visage. <”What do you think?”>

 

[Jenzid Channsalj]

Tags: Dylan Marsek
Location: Coruscant
Objective: Hunt down the Targets
Wearing: Street Clothes, ENVC-370 Bodyglove, Tinfoil Hat Band, Magno-grip Boots
Wielding: 1 Songsteel Dao Sword, 8 Terminus Shivs, 1 Kusak Blaster Pistol, Lodestone Devices, Razzmatazz Holospheres

(<<Communicator/Radio>> | 【Telepathy】| {{Dathomiri}} | -"Huttese"- | "Galactic Standard" unless specified )

The back and forth was noted sharply as she listened, the question of reinforcements a possibility in most situations. Granted a singular cell of any group could have numerous of sparingly few contacts depending on the intent.

-"I wouldn't discount a chance for reinforcements. Even being outside of their own area of operation it's possible they have sympathizers."- She offered before the conversation drove forward. The mention of sneaking in made a hint of a smile appear, her eye glancing between the two.

-"You two have the armor for it. But don't over extend. You keep the front busy and I can relay more when I get inside. But I would lay some coverage on the road."- The idea of having some cover against enemies an appealing one as a thought struck her in the moment.

She had an easy enough time with sneaking about given her particular background. Eying the armor that she could see, a frown appeared before she asked.

-"Can you cloak? Visually I mean because I have a solution for that. Otherwise any generators inside shouldn't be a problem."- She waited for their reply as she eyed the schematics once more.

 

[Dylan Marsek]

Tags: Jenzid Channsalj

Their gaze occasionally shifted over to the holographic projection of the floor plans laid out before them, they would remain silent as the Silver Lady spoke her mind in return, fleshing out their plan of attack some more.

-"I wouldn't discount a chance for reinforcements. Even being outside of their own area of operation it's possible they have sympathizers."-

The mercenaries gave the woman a nod simultaneously, expressing their wordless agreement, before Dylan went about suggesting a stealthy approach for the Silver Lady to consider. Laser tripwire mines and anti-personnel landmines it was, then. Although there was a slim chance it would not keep them at bay forever, it would certainly buy them some time they could use to get in position to deal with enemy reinforcements in the hypothetical situation where the terrorists managed to get a word out before their comlink frequencies got jammed.

-"You two have the armor for it. But don't over extend. You keep the front busy and I can relay more when I get inside. But I would lay some coverage on the road."-

<”Yeah we’ll keep ‘em occupied. Don’t worry about us over extending,”> the young techie chimed in. <”There’s just the two of us. Attempting to cover more ground than we can manage wouldn’t be the brightest of ideas,”> Aiden said as he took a step forward to observe the blueprints more closely, leaning slightly forward. <”We’ll have to go about it methodically.”> Dylan said, nodding slowly. If they had the rest of their squad with them, they wouldn’t have to worry about over-extending, and could have covered more ground in one go, but alas, they were on separate missions on the other side of the galaxy this time.

-"Can you cloak? Visually I mean because I have a solution for that. Otherwise any generators inside shouldn't be a problem."- She waited for their reply as she eyed the schematics once more.

Looking up from the holographic projection of the compound, the mercenaries briefly exchanged looks underneath their featureless, bright blue tinted helmet visors before gazing at the woman. They shook their heads in silence. Although their armor was heavily modifiable to fit any given mission parameter dictated upon its wearer by the circumstances imposed on them by the mission at hand, they did not come along packing a personal cloaking device for this one. They hadn’t planned on taking a stealthy approach to this to begin with, foregoing suppressors in the favor of flash hiders for their blaster rifles.

Trained operatives at heart, they were doorkickers first and foremost. Although they had undergone training in the use of such devices, and stealth, they could not say that stealth was their forte, unlike the woman before them. In stark contrast to the men standing before her, the woman was far more suited to go about this in a stealthy manner than they were.

She did not possess the burden of carrying along personal protection equipment, magazines worth of ammunition for a blaster rifle, grenades and other gear, unlike the two. She did not have any of those weighing and slowing her down; and not to mention all the noise such gear could make, if packed improperly in a backpack or a web gear.

<”What do you have in mind?”> The techie asked, wondering about her solution. The terrorists power source inside the compound did not exactly impose a large issue for the mission, or so he thought. Generator or not, they’d still go about the mission, but knocking it out would give them the edge they could use against their opponents. Without vision enhancement assistance from a night vision device, many species such as humans could not see in the dark all that well.