Carl's Pawn: The Smoking Blaster

[Carl the Hutt]

(CARL'S PAWN)​

(HUTT OWNED - COMMUNITY FUNDED)​

​

In an alley between a rowdy swoop bar and a questionable burger shack, the door of CARL’S PAWN[SIZE=14.6667px] [/SIZE]unlocked, ready to accept customers to give up their goods. The pawn shop was made of aged concrete and dirty glass windows, all dressed in neon lights and holo advertisements. Pipes of the sublevel’s structure webbed across its exterior. In the windows, trash advertised as treasure were displayed: mannequins adorned in aged Republic dresses, outdated droids waiting for refurbishments, and blasters that haven’t seen battle since the Empire.

Of course, like any retail store, a customer was already waiting before the doors were even unlocked. A Rodian, a bit on the shorter side, cradled something wrapped in a blanket to his chest as if it was precious. Carl the Hutt’s protocol droid, Niner, opened the door and welcomed the Rodian, leading him to the sales counter.
[SIZE=14.6667px]“Well, well. Hello, hello. How can I help you, first customer of the day?”[/SIZE]
The Rodian answered this by plopping the wrapped object on the counter. He unwrapped it carelessly.

It was a DL-44 blaster; it appeared that time did not treat it well.

The Rodian then began pointing at it and spoke in fast gibberish. Niner was taken aback; being a protocol droid he understood what the Rodian was saying… but only partially. At the speed he was ranting at, Niner could barely keep up.
[SIZE=14.6667px]“Slow down, slow down! My communications module can only pick up so much at such a speed,” [/SIZE]Niner exclaimed. He waved his stiff arms and shook his head, in case the Rodian didn’t understand what he was saying specifically. He then calmed down, then relayed the same message in Rodian.

Hearing the commotion, Carl crawled out of his bedroom from the back of the store. Sliding through the tight hallway that connected his quarters with the shop, he squeezed through some boxes and a deactivated IG-86 model.
[SIZE=14.6667px]“What’s all of this ruckus, Niner honey?” [/SIZE]asked Carl.
[SIZE=14.6667px]“Something about a blaster not being a blaster. As a Rodian, he finds this weapon… offensive.”[/SIZE][SIZE=14.6667px] [/SIZE]Niner went on, “Rodians are hunters by nature; to them weapons are sacred and this thing is blasphemous. He wants to sell it and have it out of his sight.”
Carl chuckled to himself. [SIZE=14.6667px]“Hopefully not wanting to profit.[/SIZE][SIZE=14.6667px]” [/SIZE]Sliding his Hutt body around the counter, he grabbed the blaster and noticed the weight was… off. [SIZE=14.6667px]“This baby work?” [/SIZE]asked Carl.
Niner relayed this question to the Rodian in his language. The Rodian answered and Niner translated: “Something about it working in its own way… I’m… I’m not sure what that means, sorry Carl.”
Carl aimed the blaster at the broken IG-86 and pulled the trigger. A holo emitted from its muzzle.


It played out a murder.
A murder that happened just a block away from the store.


//OOC Basic Store Info

Spoiler

Counter display case: run of the mill blasters, lightsaber parts, blaster parts
Display rack behind counter: vibroblades of all types, a Togruta headdress
Bins, racks, and shelves around store: computer spikes, droid parts, swoop parts
Store Security: 1x IG-86, 2x refurbished Droidekas

 

[Josiah Saedrin]

Josiah didn't make it to Hutt planets a lot. To be honest, he practically never made it out of Christophsis due to lack of everything, starting with a good ship. He relied on public transport, but that was a horrible pain in the bottom most of the time. All the long journeys, boring people around him and annoying little situations didn't really make him want to travel a lot. Not before he would get his very own ship.

Of course he knew he wouldn't get a ship from that planet. He preferred real things, not smuggled ships or vessels which were put together from scavenged parts. He wanted to keep things official and reliable.

But that didn't mean he wouldn't want to do anything on the planet at all. He did find this place interesting. Mainly because it was known for crime, danger and unpredictable situations. Every once in a while, the boy loved a little bit of adrenaline running through his veins. And that was just one way to make it happen.

Carl's Pawn was a local shop he wanted to visit. He'd heard a little bit about if from locals, but he had no idea what it really was. Curiosity was stronger than his clear mind, so of course he made his way to the shop.

He imagined it would be a place where criminals hanged out, sold the stuff they'd stolen. Something like a black market, perhaps.

[ [member="Carl the Hutt"] ]

 

[Carl the Hutt]

[SIZE=14.6667px]//HOLO PLAY\\[/SIZE]​

[SIZE=14.6667px]At an angle, an armored figure grabs a male Mon Cal screaming in terror. A sword is then driven through his chest. He is then knocked to the ground and the armored figure stabs repeatedly into the victim. The holofootage then cuts to the ground as the murderer flees the scene.[/SIZE]​

[SIZE=14.6667px]//HOLO END\\[/SIZE]​

[SIZE=14.6667px]“That was a sight to behold,” [/SIZE]remarked Niner.
Carl examined the blaster closer, looking inside the muzzle. “How much does he want for this?”
The Rodian says something. Niner nods, then relays to Carl. “900 credits. Nothing less.”
The Hutt let out a hearty laugh. “Oh you Rodians sure are cute.” Carl licks his lips; yellow-green slime sliding across them. “Nope nope. 900 hundred is a no-can-do. This is evidence of a crime. It needs to be given up to the authorities or, at the least, an investigator.” Carl examined the DL-44 closer. “And this isn’t even a blaster; nor has it ever been.” He takes a screwdriver laying nearby and removes some screws. The “DL-44” was really just a replica toy's molding of one; the whole body of the blaster was just a case. Inside, it housed a holocam toy. Carl held it up to the Rodian. “Looks to me like some kids fooled you good.” He let out another chuckle. ”And how did you get this?’
Niner answered for him, “His kid went dumpster diving. So I guess really, some other kids fooled his own.”
Carl then crawled back to his room with the toy blaster camera in hand. The Rodian got upset, exclaiming distress in his language. Niner tried calming him down. “Settle, settle. We can’t pay you for this since it wasn’t really even yours to begin with… plus we need to give it to the authorities. We can't buy evidence. We are not going to risk our reputation for you.”

Carl reached his desk and began looking through the holonet for help, trying to figure out who to give this to.

The Nar Shaddaa police? What a joke. They'll just plant deathsticks on me, Carl though

A private eye? They're a dime a dozen here since the cops are no help... but who is the best for a case like this?

Maybe some Jedi? But a murder of a defenseless man in another scummy street of this moon wouldn't be worthwhile enough for them.

More questions began to run through his head: were there any witnesses at the scene of the murder? He recalled hearing about a Mon Calamari being murdered recently… but he figured it was probably just another street thug. This individual, whoever it was, was no street thug. Armor like that? A blade like that? You had to do something like this for a living to get equipment like that, Carl realized. I don't think I've even seen anyone try to sell me something that... obscure... in my shop.


Through his computer terminal, Carl continued to search for help. Maybe, just maybe, someone out there will be willing to clean up this place. To him, even a little bit means a lot.



[member=Josiah Saedrin]

 

[Marcus Itera]

Nar Shaddaa. Little Coruscant.

It had been years since Marcus and Miranda had been here. Almost an entire decade, actually, back when the two were still official Republic citizens, part of a special tasks division, and had been deployed alongside Republic Commandos to eliminate and halt a drug trafficking ring. It wasn't a long stint but boy were they glad it finished fairly quickly. The planet was nothing more than a cesspool of scum and villainy, filled to the brim with Hutts, Duros, Rodians, and some of the other, more disgusting and seedier species. Marcus didn't consider himself a Humanist, but anything that looked like he did automatically garnered more respect and trust.

"What are we even doing here?" Miranda chirped in his ear, her holographic avatar dancing across his HUD. "Like I know I can't smell, but I bet it smells awful here."

Marcus shook his head. "Nah. You forget I have filters in this thing. Nothing but clean, recycled air for my big-boy lungs."

"You still didn't say why we were here."

"Honestly, sightseeing. I wanted to take a walk around the block and see how things have been since last time." He shrugged, angling past a pair of arguing beings. "Not much to see, but it can't hurt to look since we were in the sector anyways."

Miranda exhaled an exaggerated sigh and slumped against the side of his HUD. "Well let's make it fast. Time is slow for us AI, so every few minutes without doing anything is excruciatingly boring."

"So what do you do while I'm asleep?"

"That's a secret."

Marcus flashed a grin and chuckled, but before he could dig a little deeper into his lifelong friend's antics, he caught a glimpse of a bright green and purple neon sign. It flashed and throbbed with a bright intensity that almost triggered his polarizing lenses. That was new. Marcus didn't speak Huttese, but luckily Miranda did and she made short work of it, translating into Galactic Basic.

Oh, that was new. A little pawn shop. It seemed a closer look was in order for the duo.

[member="Carl the Hutt"], [member="Josiah Saedrin"]

 

[Carl the Hutt]

Carl was not finding any private eyes willing enough to help. They were either booked with more important cases or coming in at too high of a price. Carl wondered if maybe this killer struck fear in them… armor like that, gear like that. It pretty much confirmed this was a pro; this also begged the question on why it was that Mon Cal. He was just a bystander. Why would a heavily armed killer waste his or her time?

With these questions fresh in his mind, he left the holocam toy at his terminal and slid back into the shop. Niner was still quarreling with the Rodian.
“I am sorry but we are going to have to ask you to leave.”
The Rodian went off in a string of profanties in his tongue that made Niner flinch.
“Oh! Why I never! Carl, I believe-”
“I'll handle this, dear.” Carl slid around the counter confronting the Rodian. The store’s patrolling droidekas rolled to him, the working IG-86 following suit. They were now surrounding the Rodian, blasters at the ready; they whirred and clicked, primed to be fired on Carl’s command.
“Sweety, I can't say I'm a fan of how you're talking to my associate.” He got closer to the Rodian, who gagged from the nasty smell of the Hutt's breath. “Nor do I appreciate those… dirty words you claim to be your language. Carl’s Pawn is a family shopping experience. If you can't tone it down for any of the little younglings that may wander into my store, then I suggest you take that Nar Shad attitude back to the street where it belongs.”
The Rodian, trying to not inhale Carl’s rancid breath, began to slowly back away to the entrance.
“Good idea,” said Carl. “My droids and I will escort you out.

Carl and the IG-86 stood at the entrance, staring down the Rodian to make sure he left the surrounding area of the store. The assassin droid had his blaster aimed at him, just to be sure the Rodian didn't do anything funny. About a block away, Carl noticed someone new to his store… someone very armored. It wasn't the killer. In fact, this person looked like he might have been more professional than the killer. An honorable sort of professional.
With a smile and a wave, Carl welcomed the man. “Hello there, dear! What brings you to Carl’s Pawn?”

[Member=Marcus Itera] | [member=Josiah Saedrin]

 

[Brent Warnel]

Brent placed his helmet on his head and secured it in place. He had been walking for the better part of an hour now through the streets and alleys of Nar Shaddaa's underground trying to find the right vendor that sold servomotors for his boot. A boot of which was causing him no end of trouble these last few days. He stepped out of the doorway of his most recent shop visit and sidled into the lines of foot traffic moving through the streets. The hustle and bustle of traffic moving around the city was easy to get lost in and Brent had only the remotest idea of where he was in the city, but he didn't mind, he had all the time in the world.

Well, at least until his boot gave out, then he would be in something of a situation. And thinking of his boot, he didn't understand how no one in this sector had the right size servomotors to fit. Even now they made a faint whirring noise and he had a noticeable gait to his walk. He didn't want to be caught in the wrong place like this, he didn't think he could effectively defend himself if something were to happen. He pushed that thought out of his mind and continued to walk through the streets looking for shops that could possibly hold what he was searching for. Key word here was possibly. There was nothing crazy sophisticated about his boot, but the size of the servomotors and the way they were built was a problem, they were a little...old, and finding replacements had been a struggle ever since he had acquired the thing.

Small time merchants were peddling their wares on the street from small booths and yelling at passersby, but Brent doubted they would have anything that would be worthwhile for him. He needed a place with a little pop, a place that stood out and wanted attention, somewhere like...aww, just like that, he thought as he rounded a corner and was immediately set upon by a harsh neon light. Now there was a place he could possibly find what he was looking for, and even if he didn't, he could almost guarantee that the owner would know where to look.

"Well," Brent muttered to himself, "Might as well give it a try."

He walked towards the shop at the same time an irate Rodian was being ushered out at the receiving end of several blasters. Well at least the owner kept out the scum of society. Rodians, just the sight of the little cretins made Brent's skin crawl. They were like rodents, and he dealt with them like rodents. Luckily this one wasn't his problem, nor did he want it to be. The Rodian passed by him as he walked towards the entrance to the shop, hoping beyond hope that the parts he needed would be here, or the information on where to find them.

[member="Carl the Hutt"] | [member="Marcus Itera"] | [member="Josiah Saedrin"]

 

[Marcus Itera]

That little shop sure was lit.

Between the intensity of the neon lights overhead or the bright purple and green trim on the shop, Marcus was surprised to ntoice that only a handful of beings had any real interest in it. He knew beings with lesser mental capacities tended to love such things; shiny things, nice looking things. Marcus had had more than a few offers to purchase his entire armor set, and he assumed it was namely because it had this nice black gleam to it. But no. This was his second skin.

"Oh no," Marcus mumbled as he glanced at the irate Rodian stomping away. "That doesn't look too good. He was coming from the pawn shop, right?"

Miranda nodded. "Yeah. Most likely an argument over a trade or barter. People around here probably like to sell things high for profit, and merchants like to buy low for profit."

"Makes sense."

But even as he approached the shop, he caught sight of the massive slug and his automated companions stepping out. That was strange, seeing a Hutt that wasn't completely immobile and with a slimy smile upon his features. A friendly, sociable slug like this wasn't possible. It was probably a scheme or gimmick to get him to lower his defenses. Typical salesman tactic.

He noticed the droid's raised weapon as well. He made sure to lay a hand upon the hilt of his own sidearm, swaggering up to the slug.

"Just looking around. I noticed the flashy lights and figured why not check this place out." Another wary glance towards the IG droid. "Got anything in store? Droids? Hardware? That's the stuff I'm interested in."

[member="Josiah Saedrin"], [member="Brent Warnel"], [member="Carl the Hutt"]

 

[Carl the Hutt]

“Oh yes, yes. Plenty of droids, plenty of parts.”
Carl then noticed passing by the Rodian was another customer heading to the store; also armored, but he had a limp to him. Carl figured it was probably from the boot. He felt bad for the guy but happy for the business. His armor looked more on the older side so he probably could find a part or two to help him out. Carl assumed that maybe a buddy of his sent this new customer his way; it was a common story for folks that liked older things.
Carl snapped out of thinking about his success and looked back at the soldier, chuckling. “Now where are my manners? My name is Carl,” he let out his hand to be shaken. “And what is yours? Also, what kinda droid are ya looking for?”

With the Rodian out of sight, the IG-86 lowered his blaster and got the door for the two. He also noticed the new customwr heading towards the store and gave him a friendly wave… a friendly wave for an assassin droid, anyway.

[Member=Marcus Itera] | [member=Brent Warnel] | [member=Josiah Saedrin]

 

[Brent Warnel]

Brent noticed the Hutt eye him from inside his store as he approached, which was good, the slug had probably already looked him over and knew right off the bat if he had what Brent needed or not. Brent walked up to the store right behind another man already talking to the Hutt. The man in front of him was tall, and he could tell he was well built, not as big as Brent himself, but the other had a familiar look to him that Brent couldn't place.

He mulled it over as the droid that had held the Rodian at blaster-point opened the door and...waved at Brent as he entered the shop. He gave the droid a mock salute and entered the store, leaving the noise of Nar Shaddaa's city streets behind him.

The first thing Brent noticed was all the stuff, parts and parts all around the store and even more interesting stuff behind the counter. If this wasn't the place he was going to find what he needed, he hoped the Hutt had other information he was willing to divulge so Brent could get what he needed. As the man and the Hutt were still conversing Brent slowly walked around the shop and got a feel for where he was, he noted any other entrances and exits and got himself acquainted just in the off chance something were to happen while he was inside. It was always good to have an escape plan just in case.

Brent idly looked at the display counter and racks of goods as he patiently waited for the other man to fulfill whatever his needs with the slug and waited his turn as the respectable customer.

[member="Carl the Hutt"] | [member="Marcus Itera"] | [member="Josiah Saedrin"]

 

[Carl the Hutt]

Carl slid by Niner, nodding in the direction of the new customer. He got his droid’s attention. "I think something is wrong with his boot. It's an old thing, we may have a part to fix it somewhere. Probably why he's here.”
Niner nodded. "Yes, the boot looks like it has seen some action, hasn't it? Hopefully the part he needs isn't in the… pile."

Carl continued his conversation with the first customer as Niner waddled over to their newer one. His stiff protocol droid legs could only move him so fast. He raised his arm, greeting him. "Hello there! Welcome to Carl’s Pawn. That fabulous Hutt over there is Carl. Seeing he is busy, I can assist you. My name is C-9PO. You can just call me Niner though. Easier on the tongue, I think.” With a whirr and click of his limbs, he scooted in position to face the aisles of armor. "We noticed there was something wrong with your boot when you walked in,” Niner said with tinge of sadness. His tone then picked up. "Assuming that is what you're looking for we probably have the part. It may be buried but if it's outdated, it should be somewhere. Do you know the make and model or any sort of specifications? We have a catalog we can refer to to help get us started.”

[Member=Marcus Itera] | [member=Brent Warnel] |[member=Josiah Saedrin]

 

[Brent Warnel]

Brent was looking at the shelves full of items when he heard the droid's metal feet clacking on the floor heading his way. It raised its arm and chirped out a greeting before it was within normal conversation range, but Brent waited till it was close enough and stopped talking before he decided to respond.

"Well Niner," Brent replied, "This is an old AV scout armor boot, here's the specs."

Brent pulled out his data pad and brought up the specs for a usual AV scout armor boot and gave the pad over to the droid so he could reference it with what they had in stock.

"The boot is in decent shape, but the servo-motors inside started to go a little haywire a few days ago," Brent told Niner, "I got a little drunk at this bar the other day," Brent slipped his helmet off and leaned up against the nearest shelf with a smile on his face and was about too continue on with what would have made most sentients either die from laughter or categorize him as a psychopath, but remembered he was talking to a droid, "Ok look that doesn't matter nevermind, the boot just got some ehh..damage to the servo-motors and I'm looking for replacements, that data should tell you anything you need to know Niner."

[member="Carl the Hutt"] | [member="Marcus Itera"] | [member="Josiah Saedrin"]

 

[Marcus Itera]

Marcus's mind was already abuzz with several questions. Ranging from the types of droids he had, their complete specifications, their conditions, and if any alterations had been made. Oh, and if they came with possible cleaning and repair kits. Couldn't just have a droid around and not expect it to require at least minimal maintenance standards.

"I'm looking for security or bodyguard droids. I've got quite a few assets I'd like to take care of and I'm hoping they'll fill that niche better than organic security will." He shrugged, "At least I sure hope so."

"I do an awesome job, thank you very much."

A click of his tongue silenced his annunciator. "You are literally always with me. What happens to the Nimbus while I'm away?"

"Doc or Alfred watch over it."

"A medical and a service droid. Right, excellent security for a yacht."

[member="Brent Warnel"], [member="Carl the Hutt"], [member="Josiah Saedrin"]

 

[Carl the Hutt]

“Ah yes, alcohol. Something I wish I could enjoy.” Niner examined the datapad and cross referenced in his memory banks what was in stock that could work. He found something. “Well I have good news and bad news. Good news is that this was a mass produced part and it’s in stock here. Bad news: production stopped a very long time ago and we only have one… this drives up the price significantly.”
Niner looked over to where Carl was and noticed he was still talking to the other customer. He leaned into [member=Brent Warnel] and whispered. “Between you and me though, this is all because of Carl’s personal economic theory. He’s a nice fellow but he's a Hutt… there's just some stereotypical things he can’t break free of.”
Niner pulled back and returned the datapad. “We may have… another payment option for you. One that doesn't involve credits. A sort of ‘street clean-up’ job. Not too long ago a murder occurred nearby and we’re concerned some professional killer is going mad and targeting innocents. It’s killing business here. Literally. Carl and I are very upset over this and we could use the help.”
Niner shuffles to Carl and waves his stiff arm to [member=Brent Warnel], signaling him to follow. “To Carl, doing favors like these are priceless... which, unlike driving prices to unreasonable amounts, is a very un-Hutt attitude of his.”

Carl nodded to [member=Marcus Itera]. “Droids are more loyal than people. They don't really get… greedy. Though I don't got room to talk.” He chuckled, then saw Niner approach with the customer he was helping.
“Take my protocol droid Niner for example. He's the perfect employee because I don't gotta pay him. What's a droid gonna do with credits?” Carl let out a wheezy snicker and crawled over to a rack of deactivated droids; most of them security types, none held or showed any armaments though. In fact, some of them looked old or busted. “We sell security droids here… though they're mostly not in workin’ condition. Most buyers are antique collectors or tinkerers.”
Carl slid around, putting himself between the end of the sales counter and the entrance to the backroom. “Well, speaking of tinkerers…” he paused and tapped his chin. “We do have some refurbished droids. Operational, of course. They have the same retro look as those but their gear is top of the line.” He leaned into Marcus. “They tend to be a bit too flashy for my store. Obviously I don't keep those out front; except my IG model over there you met at the door.” Carl lowered his voice, “Sometimes he gets jealous of them. That's the other reason why they're not out.”
The IG assassin stopped walking and turned his head to the two. He heard the conversation and looked at them suspiciously. Carl waved daintily. “Hi Iggy, sweetie. How's it shaking up there?” The assassin droid awkwardly waved back, said nothing, and continued his patrol.
“Now I will let you know these refurb droids can run a pretty credit. If you don't have the dough, or you wanna save the cash, I have an errand you could run in return.” Carl let out a heavy sigh. “To be honest it's not really for Carl’s Pawn though, but for everyone on this street. I think everyone’s safety here is worth more than a fancy droid.”

[Member=Marcus Itera] | [member=Brent Warnel] | [member=Josiah Saedrin]

 

[Brent Warnel]

“Ah yes, alcohol. Something I wish I could enjoy,” The droid replied to Brent.

Brent was going to contest the point when Niner told him the situation he was going to be in. Brent thought it over before Niner responded, the credits wouldn't be too much of a problem he hoped, servo-motors couldn't be that expensive, but it all depended on the owner. Plus he had to agree with Niner on the Hutt being a Hutt, that would never go away, and the price might be a lot higher because of it. Brent was about to respond when the droid gave him another option he wasn't expecting, and one he was interested in, albeit with a little bit of caution.

Someone killing someone on Nar Shaddaa happened all the time, but the chance of a professional killer going mad and murdering people who were just trying to live their lives didn't settle well with him. It wasn't his fight, he knew that, but if it helped out some innocents and gave him a free part, what would the harm be? Especially if it got him something for free from a Hutt, it was almost worth doing just to shock the galaxy into believing that maybe Hutt's had hearts after all.

Niner continued to talk and waved Brent along as he started clanking back towards his owner. Brent, thoroughly intrigued, followed. He noticed the Hutt still speaking intently with the other man in the shop and he wondered if the Hutt was discussing the same thing his droid had just proposed to him.

[member="Carl the Hutt"] | [member="Marcus Itera"]

 

[Marcus Itera]

Oh, he absolutely had enough money to buy whatever he wanted in this little shop. Hell, the total funding he had was possibly enough to purchase an entire corvette or frigate, though he had absolutely no use for one. It was typically spent on ammunition, supplies, food, and more droids to staff his little luxury yacht so that he'd be able to take it easy when he wasn't on duty. It was a fairly good life but there were necessary precautions one had to take to preserve that sort of lifestyle.

"Errand? What kind?" While he had enough money on hand, handling simple work for a grubby merchant was usually pretty easy - unless this Hutt was planning on having thugs ambush and rob him as soon as he left. That outcome was an unlikely one, but absolutely possible here on Nar Shaddaa.

"I absolutely abhor that paint scheme. I don't see why people paint droids that vividly." Miranda remarked with disgust. "They don't look as fearsome when they're lime green or neon yellow."

[member="Carl the Hutt"], [member="Brent Warnel"]

 

[Carl the Hutt]

As Carl was about to explain the job, he noticed Niner bringing his customer to him.
“I believe I have someone interested in this little murder mystery of ours.” Niner pointed to the customer who was now in earshot.
“Good good,” wheezily chuckled Carl. “I can save my breath. I thought I was gonna lose it after my sales pitch… I mean… plead for help.”
Carl crawled back to his office, grabbed the toy holocam blaster, and returned. He then pointed it in the air above and pulled the trigger, playing the holofootage from earlier.
“This is our evidence. As you can see from this armor and sword, this is a karking professional.” As the murderer stabs the Mon Calamari manically, Carl continues, “You know… I recall the other day swoop gangers at the Wet Tusken were talking about a brutal killing of a Mon Cal in an alley about a block down from here. I didn’t think much of it since things like this regularly occur. But thinking back even further on conversations I’ve heard over there… this had to been it. There’s been a lot of talk lately of some really harmless locals getting brutally picked off. This is just the first time there’s been solid evidence that someone… or something… behind these has been seen in action.”

Carl stopped the footage and let the information soak into the silence of the store. He then turned to his full-suited customer. “In return, you can have a refurb droid of your choice in the back. In fact, I’ll let you borrow it for the job. You may need some extra firepower for this one… He then turned to Niner’s customer. “And I’m assuming you’re here for that boot? I saw you limping in. You can take what you need to fix that before you head out. I’ll throw in something of your choice too; I’m not sure what else you’re perusin’ for. Carl then jumped a little. “And I’m sorry, what are your names? Obviously I’m Carl but I’d like to at least know yours before you go and deal with this nasty business.

[member=Marcus Itera] | [member=Brent Warnel]

 

[Brent Warnel]

Brent made his way over with Niner to the other two occupants of the the builing that were talking. Once within range Niner announced him as a viable candidate for the murder case that the droid had told him about. Carl laughed and slinked back to a back room and rummaged around a minute before coming back with a blaster in his hand.

He aimed the weapon in the air and pulled the trigger, but instead of a portion of the ceiling coming down around them, a holo-image appeared in the air and the murderer that Niner had told Brent about appeared on screen. The man was in heavy armor and moved with the grace of a professional, he also had the finality of one as he slew the Mon Cal in cold blood as the recording ended.

What the recording portrayed was obvious, a man killing someone else in cold blood; but there was always two sides to a story, and Brent wondered what the other side was. The Hutt went on talking about all the people that had been killed were nothing but harmless locals, so either the killer was just committing homocide for the fun of it, or there was some ulterior motive that no one was seeing. Nar Shaddaa was full of secrets, some more deadly than others, and the gangs that roamed the surfaces could be the ones ordering these killings, or there could be something even darker, something that no one would want to get involved with. Either way, it intrigued Brent, and he was going to follow up on the murder and see where it led him.

"Well I'll do it, I'll look into whatever is going on," Brent replied to the Hutt, "But i'll need either a copy of that recording or a still-image of the man with the armor so I can ask questions."

Brent bent down and rubbed the outside of his boot before standing back up and addressing the Hutt again, "I'll work with Niner to provide the parts I need, and if I find this killer, what are you wanting done to him? Death? Imprisonment? And the name is Brent."

[member="Marcus Itera"] | [member="Carl the Hutt"]

 

[Marcus Itera]

The toy blaster, the Holofootage, and the simultaneous talking of both the Hutt and his protocol droid was a little much. It was a lot to take in in just the span of a few seconds. Marcus had happily agreed to lending a hand with something he assumed would be a milk run. Maybe rough up customers who owed him money, take care of business rivals, or merely promote his business a little by adding a cool little decal sticker to the side of his armor. Handling a full scale investigation like this took a little time and effort, and he didn't expect the Hutt to care much for innocent people.

"I recorded the footage for later playback." Miranda said. "Storing it in Recent Items folder. I'll document that along with any other evidence we find."

It seemed his mind was already made then, with Miranda already picking apart the footage and inspecting it for details.

"Got any more leads? I'll need more information if you want this done." He leaned against a wall, "And my name's Marcus."

[member="Brent Warnel"], [member="Carl the Hutt"]