Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos

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A New Day, Same Wicked Grace

Craig Locke

Not With A Bang, But A Whimper
"You're nervous. Don't be. You won't be fighting, just in the background, slicing terminals and hacking resources...things like that. And my credits are as good as any others. So, do we have a deal?"
Locke extended his palm, scarred and calloused, waiting for a handshake...
[member="Jade"]
 
"You know, we could really do with collecting a full paycheck around now," Jarrick said with a sigh as the two men stepped into Lucky's Pot. He looked the younger of the pair, despite the fact they were of a similar age. He wore a simple plain white shirt, and loose trousers with plenty of pockets. His hair was cropped short and tattoos adorned his arms. A close inspection would reveal several military inks and his precise gait further hinted at his background.

"I know, I know," Kairon grunted. "Can't help being caught for an inspection and having to dump cargo though." Slightly taller than his companion, he sported a thick black beard and long hair that he left unkempt. Unlike his comrade he kept his blaster hidden in a heavy brown coat.

"Since when did the Republic start using such quick picket cruisers?" Jarrick complained.

"At least they didn't atomise us like the Sith would have. Where did Asmus go?" Kairon asked after his troublesome nephew.

"He said, and I'm quoting here: 'that bar actually looks like it smells of old man and wet dog. I'm going to drink somewhere that isn't a sausage fest.'"

Kairon took a stool at the bar and let out a long sigh. "If he brings back an angry fiance again, you're dealing with him," he said, before ordering a pair of ales.

"Or her," Jarrick corrected. "Remember Druckenwell?" he added with a chuckle. Kairon did not seem to find this amusing.

"Quin won't run on fumes forever," he said into his pint glass. His nephew thought they were on a grand old voyage, like the dashing smugglers of the holonovels. However, they didn't run on a huge margin, and didn't have the collateral to deal with more than a few failures. The boy just didn't fully grasp how close to the edge they were.

"Hell if she stays grounded long enough, perhaps Mai will move out?" Jarrick added hopefully, referring to the feral Cathar that stowed away on the ship a few years ago and had refused to leave. Despite occasionally being useful, particularly in a pinch, Kairon was constantly trying - and failing - to leave her behind in space ports.
 

Craig Locke

Not With A Bang, But A Whimper
"No. I have some men waiting for me on a different system. They'll be the muscle. But...I might have to be on the moon for a day or two more. Stick around. I'll get back to you in around that time. Our business here in done until I contact you."
The Grey Man slid a comlink across the table to Jade, then turned back to his water, thinking, meditating...
[member="Jade"]
 

Asantas

The Doctor is in
she took the commlink that was given to her and pocketed it and continued enjoying her drink at a different table leaveing the man alone .
 
[member="Kairon Rees"]

The guys who walked in and sat down at the bar looked promising so Mal signed Zaur and he passed along the message that their drinks were on the pair of ne'er do wells in the back booth. Mal raised her glass in salute to them when they followed the bartender's gaze. Could be something. Too soon to see syndicate people yet.
 
[member="Malia Afredane"]

"And Asmus thought this bar looked... oh, they look like they mean business," Jarrick sighed with disappointment as he looked over his shoulder, free drink in hand.

"Anyone we know?" Kairon asked, keeping his eyes forward. He didn't like dealing with new people. He liked familiar routes, familiar faces and dependable profit. The highly controlled borders that now crisscrossed the war torn Galaxy often interfered with that plan.

"Nope, shall we go and have a chat?"

"Do we have any credits left?" Kairon replied rhetorically. He slipped off his bar stool and turned around. As he crossed the bar, he eyed the occupants suspiciously. Didn't seem like an ambush, and the crew of the Quintessence[/] were too small for law enforcement to put this much effort into detaining them.

"You two know Garaind?" Rees said as they reached the table, referring to their usual contact on Nar Shaddaa for arranging work and offloading goods.
 
[member="Kairon Rees"]

"I've done a job or two for him. Not a bad guy, pays well for tips."

She motioned for them to have a seat, as she introduced herself, her hands in plain sight so they knew she wasn't looking to start something dicey.

"I'm Mal. This is Rusty and we crew the Wicked Grace. Little freighter, mostly small stuff. But a bigger fish has come our way, I feel like making new friends."

She smiled as Zaur refilled her whiskey and dropped off a bowl of some weird looking shelled nuts. She popped a couple in, munching on them as she eyed them all.

"Interested in the details?"
 

Rusty

Purveyor of Fine Weaponry
The newcomers look competent enough, though in a place like this, competency was a relative thing. Pirates were a dime a dozen in this part of town, harsh penalties for those caught be damned. What was more rare were crews that could be trusted to pull off their part of the mission without stabbing you in the back afterwards.

For now, he kept his mouth shut and his eyes open. This was the Captain's business. He was just along for the ride.
 
[member="Rusty"]
[member="Malia Afredane"]

"Kairon Rees, I captain the Quintessence. Mid-seized variant of the old Kuat Space Masters," he explained. "This is Jarrick, he's essentially my PA," he said, which led to a withering look from the ex-soldier.

"Doesn't sound like Garaind to me!" Jarrick mumbled. Rees had to admit, he couldn't remember getting much in the way of 'performance related pay' from their contact, but perhaps that was a reflection on their work. Easy enough to check with a few faces later to find out the rep this pair had.

"We've got an opening in the schedule," Kairon said. "Our onwards shipment isn't here for another few days. I suppose the question is this job too big because you lack the cargo space, or because you need more hands or ships to handle the obstacles?"
 
"There's a couple Hutts getting in a slap fight. One want to slap a little harder so they've got an order coming in for stuff the other one doesn't think is fair. The shipment can never make it to Tat. The goods are on a large freighter. More crew than Rusty and I can subdue by ourselves. We incapacitate their crew, split the goods and you keep whatever isn't nailed down."

She set the datapad with the contract detail on the table, so they could see the finer points for themselves. She naturally hid the retainer, no need for them to see, but she left the full contract price visible for them to look at.

"Upon completion, we'll split the contract 60/40. You keep whatever you get for the cargo. If you need a buyer, I have some contacts who are quick and fair."

She took another sip of her whiskey, a wide smile on her lips.

"What do you say?"

[member="Kairon Rees"]
 
[member="Malia Afredane"]

Rees reached out and placed a finger on the corner of the data pad. In one smooth motion he spun it about and slid it in front of him. The vessel seemed a little under-armed and lacking escorts, given the size of the cargo. That wasn't entirely unusual, especially if they were shipping through the space of warring factions where such things could draw attention.

"How much do you trust your source?" he asked. It wasn't beyond the realm imagination for one Hutt to leak enough information to spur the other into action. Then, once his enforcers had been tortured into confessions, to publicly call out the other for assaulting a cargo ship.

The ship's manifest did look interesting. If Rees had a skill that could give him an edge over other smugglers, it was his mental catalogue of the worth of items. Already he had a route mapped out in his head to maximise his profit.
 
[member="Kairon Rees"]

"Rey owns Lucky's here. He's never purposely screwed anyone over that I know of, but I always prefer to be over prepared. Just in case. "

She gestured to Rusty next to her.

"Dark and spooky here isn't convinced we need the extra company, but some Hutt jobs never seem to go as planned. I'd rather not end up the entertainment for those slugs."

She sipped her whiskey again, her eyes looking for a sign of what might be going through their minds.
 

Rusty

Purveyor of Fine Weaponry
"It'd be a simple matter to vent the atmosphere, but the Captain isn't overly fond of the idea."

Rusty pointed out a few spots on the map.

"If I were flying this thing and someone tried to board, I'd hole up here, here, and here. These big freight haulers weren't designed for combat, but they are designed to give a good crew a fighting chance if it comes down to it, so we can expect some resistance in these spots. Maybe blast doors, maybe something nasty. Now, I'm reasonably certain I can take this one-" he pointed to the strong point closest to the bridge "-and secure the ship. I'm not going to tell you how to do you part, but we're gonna need to take this point" -this time, he pointed to a spot near the engines "-if we're going to stop them from blowing the engines. The last choke point is by the entrance to the cargo area, and if all goes well, we can hit that one together."
 
[member="Malia Afredane"]
[member="Rusty"]

Rees shifted in his seat, and shared a look with Hague. The veteran soldier was well aware that he wasn't always entirely honest about his past. Jarrick knew that he worked hard to keep his nephew out of the line of fire, but he didn't suspect the full truth yet. Just like Karion's nephew, Jarrick knew that the captain had been in pirating, but he was unaware of just how dark those years had been.

"Alright, we're in, but no...no evacuating the atmosphere. Any idea who the crew is? Depending who it is they might not be too keen on violence if they see a way out," Jarrick said, tracing a route from a possible breaching point to the engines that left a clear retreat to the escape pods. "I'm going to need some smoke grenades."
 
"No ID on the crew, but I will check on the routes before we go, and see if I can get a lead on who we're gonna drop in on. I'm fine with just knocking them out, locking in a stateroom and going about our business. But I'm not the one who usually leads the cavalry."

She produced a strip of flimsi from her inner coat pocket that gave details on how to get in touch with her on a secure line. She slid it over to them.

"We leave tomorrow. I'll have ID's before then. If you need me, call that line. Gracie is at the spaceport, bay 36."
 

Rusty

Purveyor of Fine Weaponry
Rusty made a mental note to load a few battle boxes with NLDs. The term "nonlethal" was something of a misnomer when dealing with a weapon that could kill an unprotected organic simply by being too close to the barrel when fired, but if he was careful, Gertrude wouldn't cause any issues. On that note, he was going to have a box with canister shot with him, because something always went wrong when they tried to be gentle. Always.

"I've got smoke grenades aplenty. You want conventional, extra spicy, or Willy Pete?"

Willy Pete, or White Phosphorus, was an extremely effective obscuring agent. The smoke was dense, highly refractory, and there was lots of it. The downside, in the opinion of most sentient rights groups, was the fact that it burned at several thousand degrees, was nearly impossible to extinguish, and a chunk could burn for several minutes inside an organic body.

Even Rusty didn't like the stuff, but he tried to be considerate when it came to the tastes of possible partners in crime.
 
[member="Malia Afredane"]
[member="Rusty"]

"In a tight ship?" Jarrick replied. "Conventional please. Something that doesn't block infrared."

Kairon shrugged, the veteran knew his business. Personally he preferred to just use scatterblasters and aggression. "We'll meet you in the morning then," Kairon added with a sigh. Jarrick looked at him with concern, perhaps wondering if his captain was concerned that he'd get the shakes during a full on assault. Unfortunately the opposite was true; he was concerned he would enjoy it. Just letting a little bit of his old self back in, just enough to see him through the raid, could be enough to take him back to those times.

"What time are we meeting in the morning?" Jarrick asked. Kairon knew why. First day on land and the old veteran enjoyed his drink.
 

Rusty

Purveyor of Fine Weaponry
"Conventional it is," Rusty replied, something of a smile in his voice. The guy knew his stuff, and didn't seem to be the usual scum that floated around this part of the galaxy. Hell, he might even be a professional, and that was rare indeed.

He figured he'd leave the meeting time up to the Captain. It wasn't like the mission was time-critical, not yet. They had plenty of time to make it to the IP. A few hours one way or another wouldn't make much of a difference in the grand scale of things, even if he himself was inclined to start early in the morning.
 

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