A New Day, Same Wicked Grace

[Malia Afredane]

[member="Rusty"] [member="Celty Ikon"] [member="Corvetta Salvo"] [member="Jade"]


Mal woke up suddenly in the pilot's seat of the 3-Z. For a moment, she was confused by her surroundings but she relaxed into the cushions as the rhythmic flashing on the board in front of her continued. They had been on Nar Shaddaa for a couple days but some where on their trip in from the Inner Rim, Gracie picked up a bug in her nav systems. Mal had tried everything she could think of but the antique ship had certain quaint quirks that were engineered out of later designs. Whatever she tried, the nav system would not replot a return course.

The spaceport was dimly lit outside the wind screen but the posters plastered to the wall were still visible. She pounded the flat of her palm on the console in frustration.

"Rusty! It's not working!" She called, her voice suddenly hoarse from the nap she had been taking.

She pushed up out of the chair and stomped down the hall, calling loudly.

"Rusty?! Rusty! RUSTY!"

Where the heck is he? She muttered to herself as she poked her head in the common area, the cargo bay and electrical closet. She circled back to his rack and pounded on the door.

"Rusty! I can't get the bug out. We need to see if we can find someone to fix Gracie. Got any leads for that sort of things here?"

 

[Asantas]

Jade was on Nar'shadda to try and find some parts for the freighter as well as open for jobs to get some extra credits maybe actualy get her self some better weaponry then the two pistols she has on her person so she was at the cantina mostly looking around for anyone whod be interested.

[member="Malia Afredane"]

 

[Rusty]

Rusty wasn't asleep. Not really, anyway. It wasn't accurate to say he was dreaming, either. If anything, he was remembering. But, given that he was in a state of restfulness, and his brain was reliving past horrors, we'll say that he was asleep, and that he was dreaming.

Naturally, when the Captain came stomping down the hall like a herd of banthas, he awoke with a start, his body reacting before his mind had a chance to catch up. He rolled off the bunk, his feet crashing down on the decking with a resounding CLANG as he dropped into a fighter's crouch. His right hand went to draw his trusty pistol and dispatch the enemy.

Fortunately for both Mal and Rusty, he didn't sleep with a gun. He knew there were many in his line of work that did, and he thought they were all idiots.

It took him a second to remember where he was, why he was there, and that he probably shouldn't shoot the little lady that was standing in the doorway.

"Huh? Wuh?"

His brain hadn't fully booted up yet, so it took the bodyguard a moment to figure out what the Captain was talking about.

"Uh, yeah, Captain," he said, blearily. "I know a guy, name of Holdst. He's not cheap, but he doesn't mind working on relics."

 

[Craig Locke]

The man in a grey cloak walked into a cantina, looking around. The man underneath the hood had many names, but he was often known as Locke, or the Grey Man. Locke took a seat at the corner booth and ordered a water from the server droid, which the booze hounds in the bar mocked him for. He didn't care. He wasn't here for them. As Craig sipped the glass of water, he made an acute scan of the area around him, looking at his fellow patrons. None really caught his attention except for a woman similarly looking around. Locke made eye contact with her and beckoned her over. If she was open and curious enough to come over to a complete stranger, she was right for the job...
[member="Jade"]

 

[Malia Afredane]

[member="Rusty"]


"Ugh. Can we track him down? I need to meet Rey." She fell against the door frame, exasperated. Folding her arms in front of her, she looked up at him. "He said he's got a big one. I can't tell if he's jerking me but I said I'd listen."

She looked back down the corridor to the cockpit. "Provided we can get Gracie going again," she grumbled.

Mal stood up and dusted herself off.

"Shake a leg."

It didn't take long to strap on her holsters, blasters checked and ready, duster in place over the lot. They were in step coming down the ramp, and silent as they moved out of the spaceport in the crowds. He towered above her in the crowds and most parted around them, although she wasn't sure it was because of his clanking or the distinctive horror movie fashion sense he embodied. Even in a city of scoundrels, he was a scary looking guy.

She ducked into Lucky's Pot, and headed for the back room. The mid afternoon was always slow in there, but the music was still loud enough to make a togruta go deaf. Mal waved at the bartender as she went by, cut through the kitchen and descended the stairs into the office area. Rey was sitting at a table, a deck of cards in his hand, playing a round of solitaire.

"Mal." Rey didn't bother to look up. Bootsteps and the clink of her gunbelt were enough of an identifier that he knew who was walking in the door.

He slid a tablet across the table, setting the cards down. Mal looked it over.

"Finder's fee?"

"My standard rate."

"Alright then." There was a pause as she reviewed it. "Big sucker. What's the drop?"

"Mal, are you gonna read it or not?"

"Oh hush, I got this. We'll take it. Wire the retainer to the account and we'll get going."

She met Rusty back out at the bar, the pad safely tucked away in her coat.

"We've got a big job. It's more than 2 can handle. We're gonna have to get some help."

 

[Asantas]

Jade saw the man motion her over and cautiously approached him but she kept her senses alert incase of trouble but this might also be a job opportunity and she wasnt going to pass it up

[member="Craig Locke"]

 

[Rusty]

While the Captain was busy getting them a job, Rusty was trying to make sure they could do it.

The first step was finding Holdst. That was easier said than done, and he didn't have any time to waste.

On went the dark gray fatigue pants, the long sleeve shirt, and massive combat boots. A tactical vest went on, with enough supplies in the pouches to start and finish a small war. He strapped a gun belt around his waist, a black leather affair with a simple buckle of tarnished silver. On it were two holsters in a similar style, each one containing a slugthrower of truly ancient design.

Each one was blued durasteel, with octagonal barrels about 18.5 centimeters in length. A cylindrical, rotating magazine held the ammunition. By thumbing back the hammer, the cylinder would rotate, bringing a round into battery behind the barrel, perfectly aligned. When the trigger was pulled, the hammer would strike a primer on the round, sending a 20 gram slug of lead down the barrel and about 330 meters per second. When all was said and done, the device was primitive in the extreme, and while the slug could stop a charging nexu, it was less destructive in absolute terms than a blaster bolt. Rusty didn't mind, however. He could write his name with the things, and he wasn't a fan of a weapon that would draw a straight line back to you when fired.

Over it all went a dark brown cloak that completely masked any distinguishable features, aside from height. Rusty pulled the hood over his head, made sure that his face was well shrouded, and went on his way.

_________________________________________________________

Some time later, after much searching, flattery, and exasperation, Rusty convinced Holdst to perform the necessary repairs. It wasn't going to be cheap, but Holdst didn't charge credits. He charged favors, and that was probably going to be a problem later on down the road. Rusty didn't much care. The Captain had said to get it fixed, not to stay out of trouble.

Once that was finished, he limped into the cantina and sat down.

"Extra crew are always trouble. You sure we need them?"

 

[Craig Locke]

"You came over. Good. I have a job for you. But first, I need to know a few things. Can you fight? Military training? Anything?"
The hooded man spoke with a perfectly even, monotone voice, showing absolutely no emotion as he asked the questions and waited for the woman to respond...
[member="Jade"]

 

[Asantas]

she straightened up and said in a rather nervous tone

I am a good shot when it comes to the pistols i have on me now

She said showing her dl-44 blaster pistols that are currently holstered on her belt

Other then that not much combat experience im afraid... im more of the fixit or fly it girl.

[member="Craig Locke"]

 

[Malia Afredane]

"Four at least. We have to hijack a shipment going to a minor hutt on Tat. Some political crap between them and a rival. We make sure the stuff never makes it and the goods are ours to fence."

She waved over the barkeep, a rather grim looking Devaronian with a broken horn and plenty of scars.

"Whiskey, and a sheet."

He nodded and poured her a drink, setting it and a thin strip of film in front of her on the bar. Spacers looking for work often floated through places like this and would pay the barkeep a tip for spreading their names around. Unfortunately, she didn't like anyone she read.

"Bogan's breath, that Rex guy is still looking. He nearly crapped his pants at the sign of a stormtrooper and he's still trying to get on a crew. Well, this is a bust. I really don't want to pay syndicate prices on this."

 

[Craig Locke]

Locke pondered this for a moment, then asked the woman, "Any knowledge of explosives? Or slicing?" He continued to eye the woman and her blasters. Not bad.
[member="Jade"]

 

[Asantas]

With mechanics that i have sliceing comes with the territory really [member="Craig Locke"]

 

[Craig Locke]

"And finally, what do you think about the Republic and Sith?" Locke spat ever so slightly on the floor at their names. A slicer...that could be useful. He could use her to send an automated lift crashing, or reprogram droids to assassinate officials. She could be rather resourceful...
[member="Jade"]

 

[Asantas]

she was hesitant in responding to this but she responded either way

I dont like either faction really.... but im hesitant on getting on eithers bad side given how powerful each faction is on its own.


[member="Craig Locke"]

 

[Malia Afredane]

Rusty looked to be chewing on his own thoughts, and the details of the job that she sent from the pad to his secure link. Mal picked up her whiskey, her eyes on the pair across the bar. The guy looked sketchy. Like seriously sketchy. Mal grew up around guys like that who had nicknames you should never ask about.

The girl on the other hand looked so skittish and out of place, Mal couldn't help but watch the unfolding events like they were a delightful train wreck.

[member="Jade"] [member="Craig Locke"]

 

[Rusty]

Though his face remained hidden under the cowl, one had the distinct impressing that Rusty was glaring at the sheet.

"For what those crooks charge," he said, with a voice like a load of rocks in a crusher, "we could afford to start our own [bleep]ing syndicate."

Whatever curse he might have uttered was cut off by a shrill blot of noise that served to protect the delicate ears around them. He carried on, as if nothing had happened.

"This isn't too hard of a job. Maybe if we could use nukes, I could catch them with an EMP in the upper atmosphere of the sand pit. I know ships are usually hardened, but about 300 megatons should do the trick."

 

[Malia Afredane]

[member="Rusty"] [member="Jade"] [member="Craig Locke"]

She knocked back one and ordered another, still watching the drama unfold. It reminded her of a nature documentary she saw once of a tender looking furry mammal with wide eyes being taken by a smooth fast predator. The beep from Rusty drew her attention away from the pair and she elbowed him as he mentioned nukes.

"Sheebs, Rusty. I ain't worried about the boat, it's the people in it. The target ship is about three times bigger than Gracie, more crew, more chances one of us is taken out in the scuffle. We need more hands on this one. I'm not willing to risk it."

She glanced back across the bar.

 

[Rusty]

"Won't be any people if I get it close enough to peel off the hull," he groused, but he knew it was a lost cause. Sure, there was that one time that nukes didn't work so well, but they worked wonders every other time.

Leave it to a human to ignore the successes because of a single failure.

Still, if the Captain said they needed a crew, they needed a crew.

"Well, I don't know anyone in the area, not for this sort of work. You want trained shooters, not the sort of pirates that you find on this hunk of rock."

 

[Malia Afredane]

"There's mercs to be had here, where's your sense of adventure?"

She pushed the sheet back to the bartender, watching him tuck it away. The bright lights filtered through the liquor bottles began to look rather mesmerizing as the warm embrace of a second rate whiskey took over. She swirled the liquid in her glass, watching the legs trail down the sides of the glass. It tasted like charcoal, but it burned like fire in her belly.

"Look around, anyone looking desperate for a paycheck?"

 

[Asantas]

[member="Rusty"] [member="Malia Afredane"]

She looked over to the two new arrivals but returned to gaze to the man she was talking too and said one more thing to him

what kinda job did you have in mind for me anyway?