Ain't Never Had a Friend Like Me

[Caulder Dune]

SISTOOINE SYSTEM, TELTI
FOUNDRY 44D - LANDING PAD 01A

[member="Darell Irani"] | [member="Geneviève Lasedri"] | [member="Kayleigh Tyven"]

Telti was a barren moon covered entirely by large industrial foundries. What it lacked in appearance, it made up for with production capacity. It was here that Gerion Ardik smelled opportunity. The planet was a fitting place to investigate if he wanted to secure standing in Republic markets. The Galactic Republic seemed to lack in high quality droids, so who better to fill the gap than Hegemonic Automaton? Since Gerion was a team player, he had also invited along Ty'rel Holdings' Darell Irani. Just because Telti was currently geared towards droid production didn't mean the more decrepit factories couldn't be reconfigured into something more Ty'rel's speed.

This was not an opportunity solely for the two Tionese bigwigs, however. Both men had it in their capacity to provide the Republic's military with the technology they needed to win the war. The right kind of capitalist intervention could potentially end the Republic's losing streak before it got any worse. Word would spread around of the impending visit from a couple of Tionese powers. The only thing that remained to be seen was whether the Republic's leadership was willing to accept their help.

Gerion's shuttle gently touched down on the landing pad, and the boarding ramp descended. They would be meeting with the foreman of this particular facility for a tour, but it wasn't beyond the realm of possibility that foreman would be joined by someone else. The Umbaran and Irani exited the shuttle, a duo of TA4s trailing behind them. Bodyguards, as one would expect for men who held themselves in high importance.

 

[Hira Mitsae]

[member="Gerion Ardik"]

For all intents and purposes Darell Irani was there really for two things, one of which was to probe into the current market of Telti and see just how profitable it would be to invest in the real estate right here and now- a few factories on a strategic location could go far while trying to get into a demanding market. And if anything the Republic these days was very demanding, they had to be with how the Sith were currently beating the crap out of them.

It meant that either their tactics weren’t good enough, their soldiers weren’t good enough or… that their products, ships, weapons, technology in general perhaps wasn’t all that up to snuff.

Of course wars weren’t only won with hi-tech guns, but they could go along way to make sure stuff was easier for your own people, no? Which was the second reason Irani was here with Ardik.

Hegemonic Automaton had its droids, and Ty’rel Holdings… well. Let’s just say there were a lot of reasonshttp://starwarsrp.net/topic/53025-the-ocelot/ why the company had grown so fast and was so successful these days.

With that being said, the Foreman was already approaching them from the facility itself and he was sporting a magnificent… beard. Irani blinked two times and with Ardik next to him they approached the beardly man and Darell extended his hand for a shake.

‘Mister Bearzly, I presume.’ don’t ask. ‘This is Baron Ardik of Raxus Prime and I am Darell Irani, Duke of Chandaar, it’s a pleasure making your acquaintance.’

 

[Caulder Dune]

[member="Darell Irani"]

Telti had little culture of its own, being populated mostly by temporary workers of varying capacities. What had caught on for one reason or another was the Teltian beard. The men of Telti had a tendency to grow their beards to abnormally long lengths, fork them, and then dye them a wide array of colors. Bearzly, in accordance to his stature as foreman of the foundry they were to tour, had a stiff forked beard that went just past his neck. It was dyed an abnormal shade of turquoise. Gerion was completely disgusted by it, but none of this showed when the Umbaran smiled and shook Mr. Bearzly's hand and informed the foreman that he was charmed to make his acquaintance.

"I am most honored to host you here today, sirs. Telti does not get many visitors, hon hon hon."

Gerion quietly repressed the double-take he had been about to do. This man's accent was ridiculous. Fortunately Gerion did not discriminate potential business partners based on their speech patterns. Otherwise he would have only done business in the Tion Cluster and... Actually, that probably would have been much more profitable.

"Yes, well, the industrial capacity of Telti is something we both find impressive. Shall we have a look around?"

"I shall show you both around, hon hon. Right this way, monsieurs."

Bearzly gestured for the two men to follow him and led them away from the landing pad and into the facility proper. Gerion shut his eyes tightly and steeled himself for the drawl he would soon have to endure before following.

 

[Hira Mitsae]

[member="Gerion Ardik"]

Every fiber of Darell Irani’s being was currently straining itself in an attempt not to burst out in laughter at the display of beard and the accent, but he managed to control his urges splendidly. It was a true token of poker faces and the talent of a born theatrical actor, but perhaps it was just as much experience in dealing with exotic individuals.

Think of Starchaser, Cavill, Velok and perhaps even Darth Fabulous with his hair, no he interacted with so many special people that Mister Bearzly here was not in any way surprising to him whatsoever.

Irani nodded and as the Foreman turned around, he patted Ardik on the shoulder.

God give both of them mercy.

There wasn’t really anything else to say, considering Darell’s writer wasn’t the one controlling the NPC and so it would be in the best interests of both the characters if he continued to do so. It would mean that Bearzly would have the most balanced of interaction with the two CEOs.

 

[Sieb Tevv]

Orcus could never be present at a meeting with the Republic. His compatriot One Sith would hold him in murderous regard were it known he were in cahoots with 'the enemy.' Fortunately, Orcus had underlings for this sort of moment, though not all of them fit the bill perfectly.

Sobek fit the bill... if the bill had been to send a fox to negotiate with the hen over egg production. Thankfully, the Herglic trusted his fellow Tion loyalists to keep his crocodilian peon in check.

What of said crocodilian? Well, the Saurton was officially accompanying the party as an auxiliary bodyguard. Unofficially, he was there to make sure said party was properly spreading Tion ways and Tion laws.

Over six feet of green-gold scales stomped off the boarding ramp behind [member="Darell Irani"] and [member="Gerion Ardik"]. The reptile's long head, projecting at an almost ninety-degree angle from his body, gave him the appearance of a perpetual hunch. Eyes of paralytic yellow assessed the scene with a gaze that reassured all of his cold-bloodedness. His mouth hung slightly open, exposing teeth grossly in need of flossing, while a most saprostomous breath rolled over any who drew too close. He wore light body armor on his chest and a pair of curving Ryyk blades were sheathed on his back.

Long arms hung down apishly in front of him and he moved forward with a shambling gait.

He tasted the air and narrowed his eyes, but said nothing.

 

[Caulder Dune]

[member="Darell Irani"] | [member="Sobek"] | Pierre Bearzly

It was fortunate that Sobek was in attendance, as Gerion was just beginning to appreciate the fact that he hadn't smelled raw sewage recently. It was always good to be reminded to appreciate the little things in life- like not having to endure the smell of a dumpster filled with dead animals. Darkwater Security was supposed to be a professional security company. Why were they sending smelly crocodiles to accompany their most valued customers? Or perhaps not their most valued. More like... 7th most valued, probably. Gerion tried not to have any delusions of grandeur. He had seen what those did to Cavill. The two Tionese nobles and the crocodile followed after Mr. Bearzly, who continued to speak.

"Foundry forty-four-D is one of the more productive facilities on the planet." Pierre Bearzly began, although what he really said sound more like "foun-dairy for-tee-for-dee." What peculiar accents these Teltians had, or maybe Pierre was from elsewhere. "In fact, foundry forty-four-D was responsible for over three million droids being produced just these last six months. About twenty-five percent of the whole D-block's production. Hon, hon, hon."

That certainly was a large amount of droids. "I don't suppose you can vouch for their quality."

"Only the finest B3-4Ts leave this facility, monseiur. Hon hon."

Gerion snorted in such a way as to imply that the phrase "finest B3-4Ts" was about the most ludicrous oxymoron he had ever heard. Ether that or he thought that Pierre had just called him "monseiur hon hon." Ignoring the snort in either case, Mr. Bearzly pressed on. They passed through a reception area and entered the foundry proper. Part of it, anyway. Before them were an assortment of metal walkways, hung precariously over chasms that durasteel pies. Irani or Sobek probably had questions as well. It would, after all, be wonderful for the thread at large if they did.

 

[Sieb Tevv]

Sobek did have questions, like "What flavor was Mr. Bearzly's flesh?" and "Are any parts of droids edible?" But he decided to just wait and watch instead. It was rather chilly in here and Sobek didn't feel like moving, much less talking, so he resorted to contemplating the color of his companions' insides. Cold-blooded. Brr.

 

[Laguz Vald]

It seemed that these days, all xe did was work with independent businessmen who could wipe their ass with the amount of money they had, were paper currency not phased out aeons ago in favor of the far more practical credit chit.

You might wonder why Laguz had been inclined to use that particular metaphor, and the answer would soon present itself. Xe'd eaten one too many roasted gorg at the last diner stop, and now xir digestive system was trying to file a complaint.

With an annoyed grunt, the hunter moved again, keeping xir eyes fixed on the figures below as xir feet pattered along the metal walkways above the aforementioned businessmen.

The sniper's job here today was a relatively simple one; keep Mr. Irani safe from whatever harm might befall him. What exactly that entailed, and on a world such as this, was another matter completely, but xe wasn't getting paid to ask questions, and so xe didn't. It was something that used to bother Laguz, but after a couple of centuries you can get used to just about anything, least of all not being the details of a high-gain contract.

Especially when it was low-risk. I mean. What was the worst that could happen?


[member="Darell Irani"]

 

[Hira Mitsae]

[member="Laguz Vald"]

Darell Irani strangely felt more secure in the knowledge of having a dedicated sniper at his back, it might have been a strange feeling of security and establishment, but that was usually the way of things when it came to his operations. The businessman would simply listen, nod and politely ask a few questions here and there as they progressed through the foundries, he simply assumed that Ardik would be listening to and following.

But perhaps the guy had already lost all sense of direction and was currently starving to death in one of the lower levels, the point being was that they eventually ended up sitting in one of the offices, which would give Xe the opportunity to get to work.

The negotiations could begin right now, and with the negotiations beginning, there would be enough opportunity for Xe to work her magic. In the end Irani himself would find a way to bow out and get some fresh air, to… check up on things.

But that was too early, now was the process of haggling with the Foreman.

 

[Laguz Vald]

Xe yawned up on the walkways, clearly growing bored with the assignment. Credits or not, Laguz was a thrill-seeker first and foremost — otherwise xe'd have retired long ago to some mansion on a non-extradition planet — and keeping a businessman safe inside a random factory with no clear threat wasn't exactly a thrill.

Good thing the contract had come with another job and a few stipulations associated with it. Now, we've mentioned the credits thing and the thrill thing, yes? Well, perhaps the most accurate description of Laguz Vald would be 'greedy thrill-seeker'. Now, you're probably asking yourself Why the feth is that even relevant? and the answer, ladies, gentlemen, and people of undetermined gender persuasions, is thus: that additional job, you see, wasn't exactly xir area of expertise.

Shooting? Check. Infiltration? Check. Subterfuge? Check. Slicing? Uh…

Yeah. But see, that small detail had been kind of overlooked when her eyes had flickered straight to the attractive row of zeros spelling S H I N Y in the language of credits. 'Twas such a beautiful sight that xir lack of skill with slicing had been immediately forgotten and/or pushed aside in favor of signing on the dotted line.

And now? Well, now xe was karked. Time for xir knight on a pink horse.

Gloved fingers slid into xir inner pocket, and then the sniper pulled out a datapad, xir green eyes absorbing the info they sought within seconds. With little ado, the shifter called on the one person xe trusted would offer his help without speaking a word of it to anyone.

[member="Kiran Vess"].

"Hey, baby. You got a second?"

[member="Darell Irani"]​

 

[Kurt Meyer]

[member="Laguz Vald"]

Kiran lay splayed out over a small couch in his room on Titan Station.

There was a large bottle of Corellian Whisky in his hand, a glass in the other, and a Black Viper between his teeth. Smoke curled out from his lips as a heavy sigh passed. This place was always so...boring.

Titan Station was the new home of the Sons of Titan. Their main repository of knowledge, gear, and training. It was here that all of the Sons technically lived, tucked away in a corner of the galaxy that no one knew about, and no one could ever find. Few knew its location, and fewer knew how to pass the massive quasar that hid it even further. That made Titan Station one of the most secure assets in the galaxy, just as Alric had intended it.

Of course that meant it was rarely, if ever, attacked, and that meant it was a very boring place for a soldier.

Luckily for him, that boredom was interrupted by a sudden chirp of his comm-link. Kiran jumped slightly, causing the glass in his loose grip to slip from his palm. The cup fell and subsequently shattered against the hard durasteel floor. He let out a groan, mumbling slightly and reaching up to tap the earpiece, only to be pleasantly surprised by the voice he heard.

“For you? Always.” His tone almost immediately turned to that smooth seduction.

 

[Laguz Vald]

The shifter smirked into xir earpiece, tucking the datapad back into xir vest as xe got to xir feet and slung the rifle back onto xir back. In one smooth movement, the sniper vaulted over the rail and caught xemself anew, fingers wrapping tightly around the metal bars of a narrow emergency ladder. Obscured by the shadows of the high ceiling, Laguz Vald slid down the ladder and landed on the floor almost without a sound.

During xir descent, the shi'ido had taken on a new appearance, resembling an unassuming male in his thirties that could easily pass for an employee going about their business. Of course the disguise wouldn't hold under closer scrutiny, but why would anyone ever pay him any thought? He was just an average Joe, after all.

"You're incorrigible," the shifter muttered into his comlink, now hidden by a shock of dark brown hair, and rounded another corner in the maze of corridors. Good thing he had the blueprints on his holodisplay, or the simple assignment would've quickly turned into a nightmare of epic proportions.

"Anyway," the man continued once he finally reached the first barrier on his path, pale hazel eyes flickering about the long hallway to check for any potential witnesses, organic or otherwise. "Walk me through this slicing shit," he said as he aimed the camera on his display at the lock.

"And please tell me it's a simple one."

Oh, for a credit more.

[member="Kiran Vess"] | [member="Darell Irani"]​

 

[Kurt Meyer]

[member="Laguz Vald"]

Kiran let out a low yawn.

It looked like today was going to be boring after all. For a second he fumbled with the bottle, placing it down onto the ground with a loud clink against the ground, shattering more of the glass that he had dropped onto the floor. He shifted, reaching towards the datapad that lay on the table near him. His arm stretched and his fingers reached out towards it.

“Sec.” He said with a strained, lazy effort.

Eventually he managed to stretch himself far enough to reach the small metallic computer, grasping it and pulling it onto his chest. He lifted it and turned on the image display, yawning as the lock was revealed to him.

“'Fraid not, babe.” Kiran said as he inspected the lock. Of course The Zeltron was no expert slicer, in fact his method of slicing would be considered brutish by many. Yet it was effective, which was what really mattered in the end. “Do you have a knife handy?”

 

[Laguz Vald]

"Well feth."

Always so eloquent. One wondered how the shifter managed to keep her cover intact when he played state officials or nobles, but that was a question for another time. He was a lowly worker now, nothing more but your run-of-the-mill employee, and the expletive was more than fitting to the image he was trying to portray.

If we just overlooked the small detail of slicing into an unauthorized area too…

Apparently luck was on his side that day, or perhaps the facilities were just so automatized that not many sentient beings strolled about; in any case, nobody appeared even as Laguz fished the combat knife out of his body as if it was something people did every day.

"Okay, Kiran, talk to me," the sniper murmured with a touch of frustration bleeding into his tone as he crouched in front of the not simple lock.

"And… is that glass?"

[member="Kiran Vess"] | [member="Darell Irani"]​

 

[Kurt Meyer]

[member="Laguz Vald"]

Kiran let out another yawn.

“It's not not glass.” He answered calmly, stifling yet another reveal of his gaping maw with his hand. “Focus.”

This wasn't about what he was doing after all, she was the one that had called him and needed help slicing into what he could only assume was a secure facility. “Take out the knife and pry off the panel. You'll see quite a few circuits and a few wires.”

His free hand began to grope towards the bottle he had placed on the floor earlier.

“Ignore all those.” His palm wrapped around the bottles neck, and he smiled slightly as he lifted it to his lips. “Reach into the wall and from the side of the inner panel pull out the mass of wires there until they're all exposed. Don't electrocute yourself.”

The last was said a little too nonchalantly.

 

[Laguz Vald]

The fake employee grumbled something about being lied to in his face but continued to follow the instructions nonetheless, easily removing the panel with a few twists of the sharp point he'd stuck into the narrow gap. With nary a sound, Laguz set down the thin piece of metal beside his boot and reached inside the revealed compartment to poke around amid the aforementioned wires and circuitry.

"I'm starting to remember why I never bothered to learn about this shit," the shifter growled as something sharp sliced through the skin of his fingerpad, drawing blood. Undeterred, if full of muttered complaints, the sniper soldiered on, blindly groping and flailing in the small, dark space until his hand finally closed around his target.

With a triumphant smile, Laguz pulled them out into the light and announced as much to his bored companion, ignoring his pointed yawns and poorly disguised barbs.

"I'm not an amateur, Kiran," the sniper rolled his eyes even though the zeltron couldn't see it, adjusting his grip on the knife. "I just don't care for learning things that are stupid."

"Now what?"


[member="Kiran Vess"]

 

[Kurt Meyer]

[member="Laguz Vald"]

“I'll have you know slicing is a very important skill.” He waggled his finger in the air as if she could see the expression, though there was amusement in his voice. Of course slicing wasn't for everyone, some people either weren't gifted in it, or they didn't care to learn. It wasn't really a necessary skill anyway, but it was one that could bring some fun times.

“Split the wires apart.” They would be wrapped in a single corded bundle. “There should be seven of them, all in different colors. Blue, Yellow, Green, Orange, Black, Striped black and Orange, and white.”

He wondered why this particular security firm always chose those colors, though he supposed it didn't matter. “When you've done that cut the Orange and the Black wires, not the striped one.”

That was an odd thing that the company had put in to trick idiotic slicers, the ones that couldn't follow directions properly. Cut the Orange and Black striped wire and an alarm would go off and the door would lock permanently. Funny how small things can be so effective.

 

[Laguz Vald]

"Uh-huh," he muttered, tone dripping with sarcasm as he adjusted his eyes and fingers to make sure that the chance for a karkup was as small as possible. A skilled slicer might have made short work of the mechanism, but Laguz was light years away from that concept. If someone like [member="Cryax Bane"], for example, was Coruscant, then he was some obscure planet tucked away in the Unknown Regions. Perhaps even beyond, considering well explored that corner of space had become over the centuries.

In a moment of clemency, the writer decided not to let that metaphor run wild — well, wilder — and instead returned to faithfully describing what the sniper was doing.

With his trusty combat knife in hand, the shifter quickly separated the wires in his grasp, prying them apart with the sharp tip of the blade he wielded entirely too comfortably.

"Do they also draw you a map and post the instructions on the holonet?" Laguz chuckled to himself in a bout of arrogance, smirking as he put the edge against the indicated wires. He exhaled softly as he double-checked the colors, and then he sliced the pair in one smooth motion.

A slight buzz could be heard coming from somewhere inside the wall, and then the doors slid open with a soft hiss. Without wasting a second, the killer in disguise slipped through, grinning smugly to himself as he did.

"Alright, I'm in," Laguz spoke in a low voice as quick, yet silent steps carried him fast and sure down another corridor. "Now tell me, baby, how goes your day?"

Despite the easygoing tone of his voice, the shifter was very much ready to bury that serrated edge into the throat of any unfortunate being that stumbled upon his path. Sometimes it was a good thing that the factories — pardon, foundries — these days were as automatized as they were.


[member="Kiran Vess"]

 

[Kurt Meyer]

[member="Laguz Vald"]

Kiran smiled into the mouth of the bottle, grasping the side of the couch for a few moments.

“I got fired.” There was a certain hint of joy to his tone, not something that one would expect from a man who got fired. In fact, from his position it was not something one would like to hear at all. If Kiran got fired it would likely mean his death.

“Or rather...” Another swig interrupted his words. “Alric let me go.”

Those words were literal.

Every single Son of Titan was brainwashed. Like their sisters the Valkyries the Sons were practically encoded to follow Alric and Titan Industries. They were trained and changed to facilitate this process of thought, and bound to obey. That was of course until they were told otherwise. He smiled slightly as he thought of the conversation he had had with the man he had faithfully served for three years.

It had been a good talk.