Private Assets

[Braxton Holst]

Nar Shaddaa | Somewhere Inconspicuous​

Evening | Clear Skies​

TAGS: Hacks

STRANGELOVE​

If there was one face that completely stood out to the Director above all the rest, it was the modified features and four arms of the former Darkwire operative. And old one, if rumours and records were of any indication. Some even claimed that she was one of the first, which was why her face at a Corporate Ball stood out like a sore thumb to the man. What she was doing on Nar Shaddaa all of a sudden was another mystery to the man. But at the end of the day, none of that mattered to him.

What mattered was the absolute pain it was to locate her, let alone establish contact with her.

It was a gutsy move, he knew of her reputation as a slicer and an operator. People in her field were good... she was very good. The uses he had for someone like her was simply off the charts, and it felt fully justifiable to slap a six-digit incentive on the meeting invitation to try and work out a deal with her.

The location was fairly cliché to say the least, some nightclub with a private section that didn't look like the end of the evening would result in a stabbing or three... he still had his doubts. Dressed in his suit and surrounded by his bodyguards in various obscure locations, he sipped at a glass of whiskey while another rested across from him in front of the open seat. All that remained was for the cyborg slicer to arrive. He had several uses for her, that was blatantly obvious. But if his suspicions were correct, he had some incentives for her as well apart from the massive pay check.

 

[Hacks]

[ T H E M E ]

Count Zero
Refugee Sector, Nar Shaddaa

The city pulsed with life. The detritus of the Smugglers Moon littered the streets and walkways, crowds moved in the ebb and flow of a sentient tide. An ocean of excess, substance abuse and crime. Hacks was just one of countless out tonight, shoving shoulders as she forced her way through the dense stream of bodies.

Cypher was not far behind the Edgerunner, his cyberoptics glowed like hellfire. An oilskin trench coat hung loosely from his shoulders, the fabric danced around his ankles as he moved, heavy combat boots battering a path on rain soaked streets. The two had become fast friends since her arrival on Nar Shaddaa. The two shared the same addictions, the same morally bankrupt philosophies and spent late nights slicing.

"Count Zero," Cypher said, raising a hand in the direction of a club that thrummed with the latest synthwave. "It doesn't beat Iridium, but I guess it does the job," Hacks remarked, then obliged Cyphers request and the duo moved towards the clubs entrance. Sliding glass doors whipped aside to allow them entrance, cameras scanning their persons as they forfeited their weapons into a locker.

Inside the music thumped against spirit. Her synthskin vibrated with the beat of the sounds. "Find a seat, I'll go get the drinks, whatever is the cheapest shit this place sells," Cypher said and moved towards the bar. Hacks scanned the crowd, her data goggles performing rapid, rudimentary facial scans and analysing the rap sheets that followed. No surprise, they were all losers like her. Here to drink and forget who they were, what they were. Unbeknownst to her was Braxton and his entourage, missed by her quick scan of the crowd.

Hacks saddled up by an empty booth, small and not overly private. The leather was cracked and torn, like shattered glass painted on fabric. Then Cypher returned from out of the dancing bodies, a mix of aliens and droids that moved with the electronic rhythm. He held two pints of beer in his hands, setting Hacks' drink on the table and sliding it across. She brought it to her lips and slowly savoured the first drink of many tonight.

 

[Braxton Holst]

A frown settled in as the cyborg entered the club with her companion, looked around... then simply moved off to find a seat. Vanity was the first to kick in for the Director as he glared at her, rather offended by the lack of attention he was getting. But it quickly paved way to understanding. It would probably have been a better call if he placed the money offer way at the top of the message he sent her.

He had a few options. The easiest was likely to just walk over and sit down with them. Reasonable and polite.

Didn't sit well with him.

So he did what any other man in his position would do to strike up a deal. He sent one of his men over to draw her attention and point her to him with a tone that suggested he wasn't asking nicely. Jas was off on a mission for the Eternal Empire, poor boy was gone for several days in the Nether and suddenly had to work again after his command over the Tython division. How Hacks would respond to a man with a blaster in his hand as he pointed to the Director was anyone's guess. He made sure to check applications for replacements before he arrived on Nar Shaddaa for situations such as these. But losing bodyguards was expensive, especially if they had a family that qualified for the hazard payout.

He watched with a raised eyebrow and a curious grin as his man tapped her shoulder and motioned to Braxton's booth. All she had to do was scan his face to know who was looking to do business. That, and another message sent directly to her would probably also help... especially with something as cryptic as "Look behind you." right at the top of the same message he sent her earlier.

 

[Hacks]

"Incoming," Cypher warned as he fell into his seat, hands kept in his coat pockets, glowing red eyes with burning interest. A bruiser stood at the booth, blaster held casually in hand as he simply redirected Hacks attention over to Braxton. She stared up into the bruisers face, then at his blaster. She held her gaze for a long moment, as if the woman was going to do something stupid.

It dragged out just long enough to be uncomfortable for the both of them. Her data glasses scanned his features and brought up his rap sheet, connections to the Corpos and more specifically Braxton. "Okay," Hacks said and sat further back into her chair, bringing the pint to her lips and finishing the beer with a quick scull.

She stared at the blaster, wondering if it was worth it to try and run. She didn't want anything to do with Denon and the Corporate Authorities. She was trying to leave that life behind, but it kept finding its way back to her. She knew her cybernetics could take a direct hit from the blaster, even her jaw and throat plates could handle a hit if he went for a headshot, but the plasma splash from the hit could melt her skull. It wasn't worth it.

Braxtons message pinged on her glasses and she refrained from turning away from someone holding a blaster to her. "Alright you can put it away," Hacks said, looking to Cypher, "I'll be back in a tick." When she stood she towered over all bar a few aliens. A seven foot half-borg with four cybernetic arms and plastic eyes, unblinking as they watched the bruiser.

She turned away from him and walked towards Braxton. She wore a heavy duty CorpSec coat with jungle camouflage, the collar kept high. A thick metal collar and chain hung from her cybernetic throat. Black leather pants tight against her form with tall combat boots. She walked towards the booth with a face that threatened to boil over.

"Braxton," Hacks said in cold greeting, sliding into a seat. "What brings you to the Vertical City?" she pushed, "Suit slicers not cutting it?" her four arms crossed against her chest. Her glasses split down the middle, retracted away on either side and disappeared into the half-dome implants over Hacks' ears. It was her own way of saying she was unarmed, as much as she could be.

 

[Braxton Holst]

At least the horrible approach drew the slicer's attention. Braxton sat back and took a sip of his drink as the cybernetic giant approached and took a seat across from him. "Hacks." He answered right back as she greeted him, a calm smile spread across his features.

"Isn't it an oxymoron to be a 'famous' slicer?" He fired right back. at her as he took another sip and gestured to the drink in front of her. "Twelve years old. Tevraki. I'd say you don't need to worry about any drugs but I doubt it'll even affect you in any way at this point." He quipped with a chuckle as he set the glass down and relaxed back into the seat.

He watched her for a moment, taking in the unsettling features and last remnants of humanity. He knew where she came from. Not literally, but people like them had their reason for doing what they did. For her, it was chrome. For him?

"What can I do for you, Hacks?" He asked her calmly as he sat forward. It was an ironic question, but he was quite serious in his tone and his gaze as he looked up to the giant. "I'm quite serious. You're no longer on Denon, which is a surprise in and of itself. I take it business started also to go south on the planet for you?" A soft hint on his own predicament on the planet. He was sure that she would pick it up too. He hoped she would. His head tilted gently to the side for a second. "How's business been, lately?" He asked plainly, taking another long sip at his drink.

Hacks

 

[Hacks]

"Isn't it an oxymoron to be a 'famous' slicer?" Braxton said, before motioning to a drink in front of Hacks, "Twelve years old. Tevraki. I'd say you don't need to worry about any drugs but I doubt it'll even affect you in any way at this point." She personally preferred to drink the shittest and cheapest drinks available on the menu, but she wouldn't refuse something free.

As she picked up her glass she thought about the name, she had never heard it before. She didn't drink whiskey and assumed the name was a fancy brand, the type of fancy she avoided. Why waste good money on expensive booze when you could buy cheap booze instead and still have creds to upgrade your tech or cybernetics.

"I didn't know I was famous," Hacks said, half-sincerely. She had spent half her life in assisting in high-profile kidnappings, thefts, outright attacks on the largest senate in the galaxy, the type of behaviour that attracts attention, but still found herself living in slums, among thousands who didn't care who she was or what she did.

Her eyes looked past Braxton for a moment, scanning the crowd for Cypher. The red-eyed slicer rested against a wall, sipping at his drink as he stared back unflinchingly. She found comfort in knowing she had backup if this corpo was here for something other than a favour or a job. Plastic eyes returned to Braxton, placing the drink back down after a swig. It would have burned her throat if it was still flesh and blood, and not the tubes and wires it was now.

"What can I do for you, Hacks?" Braxton asked her calmly as he sat forward, "I'm quite serious. You're no longer on Denon, which is a surprise in and of itself. I take it business started also to go south on the planet for you?" Hacks shrugged, four arms opened wide in surrender, "Eh, you could say that," she said without offering any real answer. She didn't trust the suit, that much was obvious.

"How's business been, lately?" Braxton asked, Hacks picked her drink back up and took another sip. "The Hutts pay good and it's easy coding, no Seccers trying to stop me, no Alliance sanctions impeding my work. It beats Denon, but the air here smells and tastes like shit." The moons climate control systems were utterly neglected, resulting in an endless smog that clung to the city.

 

[Braxton Holst]

Braxton watched idly as she looked around, most likely towards the man she entered with. She was cautious and he didn't blame her for one second. He wasn't that much different... he simply had a different type of caution to give him peace of mind. "Your friend still watching us?" He asked casually as he took a sip.

She went on to explain her current situation to him, though he had a hard time deciding if it was an upgrade or not for the hardened slicer. "The Hutts pay pocket money, let's be honest." He commented idly as he leaned back with a finger idly tapping his glass. "And I'm sure it doesn't help that they smell like the air on this planet. You've probably guessed why I came all this way to see you in person by now." Another sip and a calm sigh as he smiled at the drink.

"How does a nice apartment on Christophsis sound? Or better yet, a planet of your choosing. And why don't we throw some other benefits in there as well, just to sweeten the deal." He offered her calmly. "Good slicers aren't just behind every bush or dumpster. And you're one of the best to come out of Denon, if not the best." He sat forward as he looked up at the woman. "I want you to come work for me. I'll match the Hutts, even double it. Discount on chrome, protection, company benefits... and a speeder as well if you want. And all I need from you is to work the cyberspace for me when needed." He laid out for her. While he wasn't desperate, she would only be an asset for the company as far as he was concerned.

And it didn't hurt to spend a bit more if it meant winning her over. If his predictions were correct, the little dent in expense would be recovered in no time at all. But there was also the hometown aspect that he couldn't ignore.

Hacks

 

[Hacks]

Hacks listened but gave no comments about her friend watching. She leaned further back into her seat to make herself comfortable, crossing her chrome legs. Metal plating lined her limbs, the odd gap gave glimpses of her inner workings; tubes, wires and hydraulics. The only real flesh she had left was her her abdomen, chest and her organs. The flesh on her face was a fallacy given away by deep, dark grooves in the skin where synthskin plates met around her cheeks and jaw.

"How does a nice apartment on Christophsis sound? Or better yet, a planet of your choosing. And why don't we throw some other benefits in there as well, just to sweeten the deal." Braxton offered her calmly. "Good slicers aren't just behind every bush or dumpster. And you're one of the best to come out of Denon, if not the best." He sat forward as he looked up at the woman. "I want you to come work for me. I'll match the Hutts, even double it. Discount on chrome, protection, company benefits... and a speeder as well if you want. And all I need from you is to work the cyberspace for me when needed."

When she spoke, for the briefest moment one could see that the pink flesh of her mouth was no longer there, instead a midnight void of black tubes and panels that formed the inside of her mouth. "Why would I want to move to Christophsis? It has nothing to offer me there. The Vertical City has everything I need," Hacks said, then took a sip from her drink. "You can offer me a lot of flashy gadgets and credits, but I don't care," she then pointed a finger at his chest, "In all the time I've worked with the Corpos, you suits still just don't get me."

She waved her hand away, "Besides, I'm not looking to sit on someone's payroll, you or the Hutts. I'll take individual jobs, but that's it. If you want more from me, you're going to really need to fork out." She ran one of her four hands along her jaw in thought, "I don't know any slicers with their own personal quantum computer. Shits rare, expensive, high tech. I may reconsider my position if you can get me one, forget everything else. I don't want the credits, apartments or speeders."