Case Number 100-01: Hunting Gargantuan

[Seamus Valik]

Shadowport Investigations, a name likely never heard by the general populace of the galaxy, had been offered a contract with far reaching possibilities. The blue eyed sod that had the privilege of being the owner operator of S. I. walked down the slightly corroded boarding ramp of a public transport from Sulon to the one place he thought might have archives old enough to suit his needs, Coruscant.

His old black boots plodded out on to the duracrete as he headed across the deck of the landing platform. His thread bare pants and shirt gave away how much he needed the extra credits from a successful job. His best piece of clothing was the thick grey duster he had gotten in trade from an old spacer for a mint condition Master Sochi Ru card.

His mission was to find any information he could on a piece of tech called the 520 battle platform. A piece of technology once designed by the Galactic Empire and stolen by a founding member of the New Republic. The first step was to find a tap caf and do a quick keyword search on the holonet, after that he would meet with a local historian that was said to know more about the New Republic than anyone in the core.

Seamus stuffed his hands down deep in his pockets and held the familiar cylindrical shape of his lightsaber while he walked. He kept his head down and his senses spread out for danger as he walked. The general buzz and din of Coruscant's day to day life filled the air. He heard thousands of voices in as many languages calling out as if in competition for the loudest least coherent being.

He pulled a corner of his mustache into his mouth as he stepped up to a speederbus stop and waited with a small crowd. The smells of perfumes, soaps and unwashed bodies mixed in a almost tangible odor that he had not once missed about this world. He would be as quick on world as he could. But first, that Tap Caff.

 

[Seamus Valik]

He walked down the street his coat pulled closed and his chin tucked close to his chest. He watched his feet as the chewed the walkway one step at a time. The slow steady walk of someone without somewhere to be was kept to try and keep anyone from paying him too much attention. Anyone who stood out too much on the streets of Coruscant tended to find themselves short of all their credits and lucky to be alive.

He made it to the tapcaf without incident, it had to be his lucky day. He pushed through the door and felt the weight of the city planet lessen as the door closed. The constant assault of the cities buzz and boom held off temporarily by the seals of a simple sliding door.

Inside was only slightly less diverse than outside. A twi'lek woman, early thirties and working too hard to look 10 years younger eyed him from behind the counter while the typical caffine junkies pretended to be upper class but reeked of lower middle.

He gave the woman a smile and studied the menu above her head with a practiced slowness that he knew was the pet peeve of every caffine slinger in the galaxy. He knew what he was going to order. He had made up his mind 4 blocks back, but he had to have his little guilty pleasures.

"Large, iced triple cafe, light mocha, heavy nilla, and whipped." He said finally as he reached for his credstick.

"Seven credits, hun." She replied despite the fact she looked like she would rather call him something else.

He rolled his eyes at the price but didn't bother to argue. He took his drink from the counter and sipped as he headed to a seat in the back. He pulled out his datapad and began his search of the local holonet. With any luck he could get most of his job done without leaving his seat.

 

[Drake DragonsFlame]

The door chime sounded and brought in the rain and the city’s drone roar just briefly.

“G’day, hon, can…” The woman paused, felt for her voice, swallowed back a sudden hesitance on her tongue. “What can we get you?”

“…Tea,” He said. The man had come in from the downpour, folding up a ragged clear-plastic parasol and shaking it off by the welcome mat. He was dressed in traveling breeches and a worn kimono, sleeves tied back with slender rope, the quality just a hair above poor. Smooth, modest vambraces and greaves of light steel adorned his forearms and shins respectively. The man was tall and broad, athletic by the cut of his figure, unbothered by the cold. He almost dismounted his sandals before noting dried whorls of day-old mud still crusting the tapcafe tile. Politely, he remained stayed beside the door, drying water from a mop of blonde hair.

A pair of killing swords in black, polished scabbards hung off his hip.

“Your tea, hon. All we have is green with a bit of honey – “

“It’ll do fine,” Drake cut her off and took his cup and small ceramic plate from the counter, pausing. Awkwardly adjusted his fingers opposite the sipping handle and took a short draught. The flavour was coarse; at least the honey added an easy, helping sugar. After a moment, somewhat contemptuously organizing a coin purse, he paid for the privilege of the awful cup and began stalking the console rows.

[member="Seamus Valik"]

 

[Luther Lewis]

It was too much to take in. Her head swam with the noise, the sights and more importantly, the smell. The smell of life was everywhere, its pervasive aroma invaded every inch of space. She tightened the muzzle around her face.

She couldn't decide which was worse, the smell or the sounds of crashing thoughts. Her mind had been focused for the jungle, to sense predators through the force. Here was a cacophony of thoughts and feelings, so loud that she was drowning in them. At least it distracted her from her hunger.

She left the street and made her way to a building. A few people were inside, sharing a common thought: "Caf". Deciding that was the name of the building, she entered inside, immediately relaxing in the new environs. The crush of surface thoughts was reduced in here and an earthy smell helped mask the aroma of other people. Noticing others grabbing food from a bench, she approached the area. A Twi'lek was handing food to people. The woman paused for a second at the sight of her muzzle, then smiled and addressed Morrigan: "What can I get you?"

Morrigan thought about it long and hard. She didn't need to eat and she'd have to remove the muzzle, but she needed something to satiate the hunger for now. "Meat" Morrigan replied simply. The woman didn't miss a beat, nodding and said: "How would you like it cooked?" Morrigan blinked a couple of times, confused. "Oh no, don't cook it" she said. "It is perfect raw". This time the Twi'lek hesitated. She paused for a long moment, before saying: "Ok, if you say so sweetie. That'll be 10 credits".

Morrigan had heard about credits, it was something others used to trade; but she had no idea where to get such an item. "I have no...credits". The word was unfamiliar on her tongue. The Twi'lek's facial expression turned into a hard line. She called to someone behind her. A big man approached and said in a gruff tone: "We don't serve freeloaders. Get lost."

She didn't understand, mainly because she was already lost. She got the feeling that they wanted her gone, so she walked away. However, she wouldn't leave yet, she wanted to soak up the atmosphere a bit more and walking outside was an ordeal. She instead sat at a table behind [member="Seamus Valik"], to try and soak up the curious smell of whatever he was drinking.

[member="Drake DragonsFlame"]​

 

[Arken Lussk]

"Observation: That beverage is quite hot, master."

Arken was already mid-sip. "Mmf!"

Scalding, creamy liquid spilled into his gullet. The boy nearly panicked, nearly dousing himself with steaming caf, but he gulped it all down anyways. His tongue felt like it had been burnt off and his throat was probably blistering from the inside out. Not really, he figured, being melodramatic about the smallest things was just how he got through the day. It would be quite boring otherwise.

Arken scraped his tongue against his jacket, sending a furious look towards Victor. The droid, clad in a dark cloak that shrouded most of his figure, didn't seem to be fazed in the slightest - or concerned.

"That was insanely hot," he dryly responded, "Very karking hot."

"Reassurance: You will be okay, master. I apologize for not notifying you sooner."

The young man snorted, shaking his head with a grin. "Yeah, yeah."

Arken blew on his caf some more as he whipped out his computer. A small thing really, but it was far more powerful than anything else on the market. Top of the line. Multi-core processors, lotsa RAM, the best graphics; the whole nine yards. While he normally just puttered around on Holonet forums or played games, he was here today with another intention in mind: snooping. The famed Tap Caff was known for its exceptional drinks, though he found it quite lacking in service, but the slicer was just in the mood for some nice drinks and a day spent data mining and pilfering.

Coruscant was a massive metropolis. Surely someone around here had something interesting laying in wait. Be it bank account information, dirty images, or hidden secrets behind firewalls and encryption. They were all amateurs. He'd get into it all in a few seconds.

Gingerly sipping his caf, he grinned and began his hunt.

[member="Seamus Valik"], [member="Drake DragonsFlame"], [member="Morrigan Lethani"]​

 

[Seamus Valik]

Seamus activated his data pad and sipped his drink. The quiet of the place made his focus that much easier to hold as he started with a cursory keyword search begining with things like; New republic, Garm bel Iblis and Military Museums. He was halfway through the first page when the door opened and a familiar yet annoying ding announced someone had entered.

Seamus watched in the reflective surface of the table's napkin dispenser as a large humanoid entered. The man was clearly not from here. His posture spoke of a disciplined nature that was only enforced by the polished scabbards at his waist. He was a fighter and no mistake. Seamus would have bet anything the man had drawn the eyes of half the district dressed as he was in very 'old Atrisian' fashion. Seamus was also certain that this was his contact and employee on this leg of the investigation.

Seamus waved to the man to get his attention and motioned to the chair acrossed from him. The man was early, a good trait in anyone you planned to work with. It showed dedication as clearly as the way the man's movements said he knew how to handle himself.

Seamus returned to typing and opening articles, his bright blue eyes flicking across the screen of his datapad quickly as he scanned for the best place to check first. He was hoping he could just walk into places and ask his questions but then hope in one hand...well anyway hope didn't make things so.

The door bell rang again this time bringing an odd young woman with it. The being wore a muzzle on her face and Seamus had an instant flashback to fighting the Sith and Yuuzhan Vong on Kashyyk years before. He listened carefully as he pretended to focus on his datapad. 'Meat?' He thought and no credits. It was curious. The being was obviously not from here either and had the social skills of a confused child. He had a hard time imagining how she had managed to be dropped on planet much less how she was managing. His best conclusion was that she was fresh off the boat, so to speak, and would be enjoying the place about as much as a nuna enjoyed the barbecue.

Ever curious Seamus noted the young man and his partner in another booth even as the odd girl sat beside him. He wouldn't use the force, not here, not under these circumstances but he kelt the possibility for needing it in mind. The man in the other booth held a state of the art mulitcore datapad. That either screamed rich and entitled or that he was doing things that needed that kind of processing power. Seamus thought for a moment and put his money on the man being a trustfund child with credits to burn but checked his encryption was running just in case.

He waited for his companion to have some of his tea and drank some of his own large, iced triple cafe, light mocha, heavy nilla, whipped caff. He had turned up a few things already. Three leads to be precise, Armatech, The galactic museum of military history and a being named Karlix Frath, an apparent expert on ancient history. Seamus, made a file for the articles and pinned it to his homescreen as he looked up to Drake.

"I found some leads but I think we have time to finish our drinks." Seamus said sipping his, "I think we can start with the history museum about 10 minutes from here, we may turn something up there. But it's a long sbot."


[member="Drake DragonsFlame"] [member="Morrigan Lethani"] [member="Arken Lussk"]