Private Cut And Dry

[James Ephraim]

"So we're criminals now?" The staunch, older man asked.

James looked out of the window of the small transport ship, hazy eyes drifting down towards Corellia's streets. He looked back to the other man. "we're a PMC, I believe they call it." He waved it off.

He shook his head in response. "Still illegal." A heavy sigh came from the man, looking to his feet. "I know we need money, but we're totally out of our depth!"

"And do you have a better idea?" James leaned closer to him, "As far as I'm concerned this is the best route forward." He leaned back.

Bonsi shook his head again, looking up at his superior, disapproval in his eyes. "You really think that?"

"I do." James muttered.

Maybe Ephraim was right, in the end, they didn't have too many options anyway. It wasn't like the guardsmen had anywhere else to go. They were alone, without families, or people to care for. This 'Warband' was the only thing many of them had. So PMC it was. It wasn't like they were completely unsuited for this, they'd conducted sting operations before. They weren't cold-blooded murderers though, and that's where Bonsi's fear arose. He knew of James' past, he'd been very open with it. He was Mandalorian, and Bonsi saw that above everything else. He remembered how some of that shone through, occasionally. Like the executions. It didn't matter how much James preached disdain for those actions, they still did it. But it was necessary.

Bonsi sighed, leaning back. Maybe they were already criminals.

As the small craft hovered above the landing pad, James and his second jumped out. Soon, it started off, with the two waving to it. With the ship gone, James looked to Bonsi, clasping him on the shoulder with a bandaged hand. "Cheer up, our lives aren't fully torn down yet."

They walked down to the tradeport from the pad, Immediately noticing the large cantina built into the steel walls. "You should stay out here, just in case." James turned to him.

"And if your shot?"

James chuckled. "Then the company's yours."

It didn't take him too long to find a secluded booth. James didn't drink much anymore, but he always loved the way these places felt. Dark and warm, fiery almost. He fiddled with the bandages around his hand, waiting for the other party to arrive.

Victoria Cross

 

[Victoria Cross]

How convenient Polyweave was. Let her look absolutely normal in a suit or daily clothes. But provided easy protection against most common weapons. She was equipped better than that of course. She was going to meet mercenaries, sometimes you needed to put on a show of authority. Completely unarmed in appearance, pure superiority. And other times it worked better to be like one of them. Weapons and equipment present, just not threateningly so. A Ma-M2 mercury class energy pistol holstered behind her, and a vibro-knife in her boot. She did have V-3 Battle Stims and Adrenals on her as well but those were in more discreet pockets. Finally a stealth field generator as a belt. Those were all too helpful sometimes. The rest was in her ship.

The arkanian woman made her way to the cantina from her ship, she knew how long it'd take her from her landing pad. It would be fine. Her only real concern was getting backstabbed, but that was the reason she was armed. She doubted it would be an issue. But this was crime. And there was always that risk.

She barely aknowledged the man waiting outside the cantina, outside of just a glance in his direction. But once she entered and located who she was meeting, her demeanor would get a little more pleasant. She gestured with a finger and mouthed "Just a moment" before quickly ordering a Noonian Fixer and then walking over and sitting herself down at the booth with a smile, "Greetings, well we can get right to business or we can chat about how we got here. You might be surprised how many people do that. Reminisce about their days in the military or their culture, or just say 'It's what I do'" she said taking a sip of her drink, "Course not all of them are mercs or soldiers, but you guys at least don't need to hold the tough guy act as much as the hunters do."

She leaned against the table with her arms folded waiting. She was curious which route he'd take. She didn't much care either way, either they'd get a discussion and she'd finish her drink there. Or they'd get straight to business. Either way, she had a drink to entertain her.

James Ephraim

 

[James Ephraim]

The first thing about her that struck him was how armed she was. He didn't blame her. In places like this, she needed to expect just about everything. James himself was not armed. He felt in situations like this, there'd be a better impression made if he didn't carry anything. Then he considered what she said, reminiscing and such. He never took the time to think back, he recognized the past and its effects but never pondered too hard. He was changed, he knew something had changed. It didn't matter much more than that. Whether it was fire, plasma, or the acid of a krayt dragon.

He sighed, lacing his fingers together. "I got here by hiring a transport ship." He finally spoke, his worn voice rattling. "As for the rest, I've been in any military and my culture is a violent one."

Really, he was a military man. Despite never hailing allegiance to a planet or faction, he was a tactician, he did lead people into combat.

He doubled back on the answer. "Although, a military is what you see as a military." he rubbed the bandages on his face.

"What about you? I can see that you're an Arkanian well enough. Is their flag any flag you fly under, aside from your business dealings?"

He straightened up. It'd been a long time since he'd relaxed like this. Funny, this was anywhere but the place to relax. That's when he realized just how starved for others he was. He never fancied himself a people person. But these past few months, he and his people had taken a lot of losses. They needed a leg up, a foothold, anything that could pull them out. This really was one of their last options. If all else failed, James would be torn apart by them, and they'd scatter. Like that, Miheal Co. would finally be dead.

Victoria Cross

 

[Victoria Cross]

She chuckled at his initial response on the question. A rather literal answer. Though he did give some more information on his background, however small. "True enough."

"Doesn't take a genius for that one does it." She joked on the Arkanian comment before taking another sip in thought about his own question to her, "Not one of my homeworld. Maybe my relatives, only reason I bothered making a business of my own. I had no relevant place in their hierarchy, at least not one that I couldn't preform outside of it. Formally speaking I do work with the Hutt Space Consortium. Mostly though, I just do my job and live my life."

She shrugged, it was of little concern to her sharing these kinds of details. The personal ones held no threatening value, and the ones that even could would be something that could likely be discovered just by hiring a semi-competent hunter or investigator. So why hide herself? "I meet, greet, and connect people and their goals as an occupation. Good money, good time, and, at least for me, it's pretty easy. I have a drink," she raised it momentarily, "Talk, make a deal, maybe tag along for a fight to see it goes well. And then go home and mess with cells or something to amuse myself. Just like chemistry and biology. Shouldn't be surprising though."

The woman let out a sigh and leaned back to look at him. He was somber and serious, but he hadn't pressed into business. He was willing to chat, and even push conversation. He certainly looked serious covered in bandages like that. She'd ask, eventually. For now, other discussions, "What about you, what do you do when you get your time off from battle. Didn't even order a drink. Excepting people who are paranoid, and I don't blame them, that's not common for your work. At least, in my personal experience. Drink? Gamble? Party? Can't imagine going to the range is any more interest than going to battle."

James Ephraim

 

[James Ephraim]

He listened intently. He showed compassion in his eyes. Somber, burnt-up compassion. He did not know her, but he could see that she drifted through life, not wanting anything, but holding a world in the palm of her hand at the same time. All the time in the galaxy, he thought. He'd heard of the Consortium, their dealings. he wondered how long it'd take him to fall into them. No, he'd had his fill of the Hutts, he wouldn't get back on that ride. Then he thought of all the wealth she must have found in that life, and he envied her. Wealth beyond measure, a goal that no matter how hard he tried to push back, resurfaced. Some habits just won't die.

Then she asked him what he spent his freedom on. It caught him off guard and made him wonder. "I used to drink, quite a lot. Used to do a lot of things I don't anymore." He sighed, thinking hard.

"I read, most of the time. I used to take a lot of bacta baths, too uncomfortable for me. Feels like you're being smothered. Then, of course, I practice shooting. Used to be a bit of a marksman, back when I-" he cut himself off, "Nevermind. Aside from a few smaller things, I don't do much of anything anymore but lead my little group."

He chuckled. "Ya know, they call me a CEO, because technically by galactic law, I am. Funny to think we're still seen as a weapon manufacturing firm. Maybe one day."

He looked deeper into her, not hiding anything behind his eyes now. "But we need to go forward I think, with this transaction. You wanted to hire guards for a transport ship, right?" He thought that was it, or was that the last job? Everything was kind of muddled together recently.

Victoria Cross

 

[Victoria Cross]

She let out a hum on his short comment on his past actions. Didn't seem interested in bringing it up much, twice now. Present and future seemed more important. She couldn't fault him for not sharing though, whatever reasons he had for it, even if only a preference. Victoria raised an eyebrow though as he said he'd read. A good pastime, not necessarily the one she was expecting...and then another dodge of his history. "You should, probably. R&R in correct amounts can improve overall performance for most organics." she commented taking a larger drink as he continued.

Ah, CEO by legality. Weird how different their jobs no doubt were. Though she was at least mildly closer than those businessmen who never left the office or their expensive homes. She was probably closer to them than she was to any mercenary however. She only sometimes treaded on violence, and usually on her own terms.

He wanted to move on, very clearly, she let out a sigh, and pulled out a holopad and handed it to him, "Fair enough. Still a business meeting. Yes, here's the ship and its details, that should hold all the data necessary. Keep it, copy it, whatever. You'll guard it and its contents to Sriluur and ensure it's delivery to the buyers via a brief trek with a couple land speeders, mainly for the cargo itself. And we want to keep that trek brief. It'll be timed so you should be well out of danger of any of the storms both ways, but there's always the risk. Your presence is most likely going to be most necessary once in or near atmosphere or on ground. We don't suspect anyone's trying to preempt the cargo so far, but there's at least pirate activity. And most clients are not actually very thorough."

Victoria leaned back in her seat glancing up in the roof as she nearly emptied the remainder of her drink since it seemed they'd be done fairly soon, "Alright then. I may tag along if it wouldn't be too troublesome. I prefer to keep an eye on things when possible. It also gives me more reason to test the effectiveness of my stims. If not, contact me again once you've accomplished your job. Your credits can be delivered in person either by a location we approve, at an office, or to your preferred bank though that route may take longer for security reasons. Thoughts? Questions?"

James Ephraim

 

[James Ephraim]

James did speak for a while, looking over holopad. He listened to her as read, nodding to each thing she said. This wasn't going to be a particularly dangerous job, but the chances are always there. The ship itself looked capable, yet he couldn't tell the model. He doubted it had many protective measures, otherwise, his role here would be null and void. As the holopad stated, they were to keep a minimum of three kilometers distant from the ship, James' crew would be split between two combat-class ships with boarding capability, and the freighter itself. For each pirate, or otherwise hostile ship destroyed, an extra five-hundred credits were to be added to the total. reading further down, there were many messages and rules regarding the cargo itself. James narrowed his eyes.

James looked up at the woman. "I'm not one to be nosy ma'am, and frankly I don't mind what we're guarding. But I do have one question, regarding the cargo; is it dangerous in any way? Volatile, I mean."

He doubted it was anything like that, but you could never be too sure, and James wanted to ensure proper handling of the cargo. His men weren't violent or clumsy but they were just people, they dropped things, made mistakes.

He sighed, looking over the holopad again. "I better question would be how do you want us to handle the cargo?"

The money this job promised was too good to pass up, Ephraim wouldn't back out now, no way. But there was always the fear that they were out of their depth, doing something that they couldn't exactly understand or what to.

Victoria Cross

 

[Victoria Cross]

She smiled at the start of his question 'Not to be nosy' and it's many variations had been heard before. It wasn't totally surprising that someone would want to know the contents, he at least didn't ask the specifics. He just wanted to ensure the safety of his crew, or the contents, both were logical.

"There should be no explosions or poisonous gasses, safety wise you should be in the clear. But I would still try to ensure it remains quite closed and relatively steady. Don't need everything broken or messed up, or stolen slash altered naturally." Viccy leaned back taking in what little was left of her drink, "I guess treat it like you would good furniture. Or art. Relatively harmless if rattled. Securely kept. But still breakable and better preserved when untouched. Understand naturally that messing up the cargo itself or opening it could result in, at best, financial issues. At worst...well, I don't instinctively send someone after people I hired because of a screw up. But some people are insane enough that if you give them the wrong coffee they'll try and cut your hand off."

Victoria gave the comment somewhat lightheartedly, but it was clear she meant it. There was an order to things, full success, partial success, failure with retained assets, total failure, and utter backfire. She'd rather he not fail, but if he did, he might also remove himself from her potential asset pool. And that would be two losses rather than one. That and he was at least somewhat interesting.

"Anything else you got?"

James A. Rackham

 

[James Ephraim]

James took what she said without error, he understood completely. He leaned back a little, "No ma'am, I think that'll be all."

He wasn't entirely new to this kind of sin, he had his experience with smuggling and the like. She herself didn't seem too distant from it either. There was a lingering excitement to it, though, like the aftertaste of liquor or the look in a death stick addict's eyes. When he was a younger man, James had been something of an adrenaline junkie. While always the more diplomatic sibling in his 'family', the violence that pursued them perfectly placated his wilder side.

Victoria didn't seem like a wild individual, not at first glance. But something came to mind, her mention that sometimes she tagged along on these missions. "Will you be accompanying us?"

A part of him wanted her to. Allies were few and far between these days, James wondered if this could be a start for something better, it was a start, at least. But also believed she might want to, things like this were always interesting. Not to mention how helpful it might be. James could be quite charismatic when he wanted to be, but Ms. Victoria here seemed like she was much better suited to handle legal authorities if they appeared.

"If you want, of course. Could be fun for you, and I have a suspicion that you're more of a hands-on kind of person in the first place." He chimed in.

Victoria Cross

 

[Victoria Cross]

Then things were well in hand. From what she knew, and what she could see here. He and his crew were likely plenty competent for the job even if problems did arise. Which meant everyone got their money or their moneys worth. Good.

She smiled again at his inquiry on her presence, even seemed to prompt it. His assertion was right of course, she was hands on. "Glad to, and you're quite right. I may not usually operate alone, but doing things in person used to be much more normal for me." The arkanian clapped her hands together lightly and took in a breath, "Besides, wouldn't want you messing anything up would we?" She joked...sort of.

Victoria stood up and reached out a hand to shake. Adding, "Don't worry, I won't be taking your authority from you on this. You know your crew better than I would, and their potential reactions to me. And on that vein, you should tell me if you want me actually on board or following. I have my own ship. It's hardly one of those speeding smugglers. But it's quite tough...and cloaked."

Leaving him with that decision had a number of reasons. She did tell the truth, he knew his crew and she did not. She didn't need them distracted because of her presence for whatever reasons they had. But of course, it also was meant to further trust which itself had two types of values. It's own direct value, decrease of questioning during vital moments, decrease of risk of betrayal. But also increase in social relations. Certainly she wasn't going to view him as an equal easily, not that she'd say that, but to her there was nothing wrong with socializing with other races. Even if she viewed their race as behind in evolution. He at least seemed to be competent so far, something she'd gladly watch.

James Ephraim

 

[James Ephraim]

James stood to his feet soon after she did. He took her hand, clasping it firmly. He chuckled, "Believe me, Miss, I have no intention of you taking authority from me." He said, coming off a lot more threatening than he wanted. Never mind it, she probably didn't care whether he was friendly or hostile.

he was glad that she would be accompanying, made things easier on his part. But a different ship sounded like a good idea. James trusted the people he worked with, those below him above all else. Bonsi was a shining example for at least three-quarters of those that walked with him. It was that last quarter that had him worried. None of the soldiers had lives outside of the group, being on their own for the most part. There were a few of them that were with them for awful reasons. Mihael Co. didn't screen employees, especially those part of security.

It took a long time for them to even trust James. Likewise, Ms. Cross maintaining a distance seemed preferable if nothing else. "You should take your ship," Ephraim said, sounding friendly, "I'm sure you'd like it better in there anyway."

James pulled his hand, reaching into his combat vest. He pulled out a small flask, covered in a leather protector. He took the other hand, parting the bandages where his mouth would be, unscrewing the flask, and drank. When he was finished, he shoved the flask back into the vest. His throat had a habit of becoming dry, water was a basic remedy.

"Well, I think that concludes things. I think we should leave for Sriluur in eight hours. I believe that'll give everyone enough time to prepare. I assume that ship of yours is parked nearby?" He moved out of the booth. "You have my contact, if anything happens before then, don't be afraid to reach out."

He grabbed his hand, picking at the bandages. "If that'll be all Ms. Cross, I'll see you then."

Victoria Cross

 

[Victoria Cross]

She chuckled at his reaction. Well confidence in keeping control of his people wasn't necessarily a bad thing. She nodded about using her own ship, he was probably right on both parts. She felt much safer in their given how well equipped it was, and that it was cloaked. She was still impressed she managed to get hold of one, but she hadn't found anything she shouldn't so she wasn't going to complain about it.

Victoria eyed the flask he used and watched him drink from it, odd. Not the oddest thing but still odd. She couldn't be sure what was in it of course. It was typical for it to be some kind of alcohol but if it was, then was he just too careful to get a drink here?

Another nod as she mentioned things being concluded and when they should leave, "Near enough, I'll see you then. Don't give yourself a rash in the meantime." she added gesturing at his hand and then giving a slight wave before she headed out. Would be a bit of time, but she was patient. Besides she could keep working during that time and ensure her other business was still doing well. No need to simply hunker down until it was time to head out.

There was that slight desire to actually see things go wrong, just to watch how they would react with it. Ideally their very presence would be enough to dissuad any kind of attack or robbery, but still. Could be fun to see them in action.

James Ephraim

 

[James Ephraim]

With all that said and done, James made his way out of the cantina, into the greater port. He was ultimately looking forward to this, he and his people had become restless, and while the shift into more criminal activity was shocking, many didn't argue it. If anyone was surprised by it, it would be James. He of all people never would've wanted this for his people. But times change, and bounty hunting doesn't cut it.

Nearly as soon as he walked out, Bonsi made his way to James' side. "How'd it go?" he asked, anxiously curious.

James, stuffing his hands into his pockets, thought it over. "Not bad. She's better than most of our employers, didn't just drop something on us without talking about it."

Bonsi nodded in agreement. "That definitely sounds like an upgrade." He walked along with his superior, making their way to the landing pad. "So we're guarding a ship, right?"

James nodded. "That's right, the crew will be split between the freighter and two combat classes."

Bonsi sighed. "I don't know..."

James turned. "What's wrong? Does the job not suit your strict criteria?" He said, annoyed.

"No, it's just... It's out of our normal range." Bonsi raised his hands, looking innocent as ever.

James looked at the ground. "It'll be fine. Trust me."

With that, the two went to the landing pad and awaited the arrival of the transport. They had to prepare now, go through tactics and the like. James was already concocting a rousing speech in his head, something to get everyone into the spirit of dying for money.


OOC: sorry for the longer wait. Arghh! Time management!

Victoria Cross

 

[Victoria Cross]

Victoria tapped on her datapad in her Fat Cat Stealth transport as she went over some of her business work. Mostly just tidying up their data, checking out potential interests, and ensuring there was nothing sketchy going on with their credits, at least, nothing that shouldn't be going on.

While she couldn't measure with much certainty the competence of the crew just based on their meeting, she felt pretty confident this should work out. Only real concern was if they developed too much of an emotional boundary against working for some of their missions. She'd have to gauge that. They didn't have sufficient information yet that she could mull over to know how far they were willing to go, and keep going.

Eventually she ended up just taking a nap and setting her alarm. When the time came, she got up and made her way to the landing pad where their transport would be, having her own ship landed nearby so she could take off with the rest of the group. She was armed just like last time.

She gave a light wave as she approached the group, the transport and it's fellow ships were in sight on their route. "Greetings again, should all be ready to head off soon." she folded her hands behind her back waiting for the ship and leaning against a nearby wall.

James Ephraim

OOC: No worries. It happens.

 

[James Ephraim]

Blasters were never James' preferred weapon. He much more like the feel of a nice slug thrower, something he and the Tuskens shared. Still, today he holstered dual blasters, no specific model he could tell. They had a nice heft to them, which he liked. They always weren't too unwieldy when attached to his armor-weave vest, which he also quite liked.

As for the rest of the rugged soldiers, they were mismatched and patch-work. What little conformity that they once had was tossed away. Some still wore that same old security vest, the one that James himself wore. Many of them had fond memories of their time in the 'security classus'. But they were a far cry from a legal force now.

James turned to the Arkanian. "Ms. Cross," He nodded his head in respect, adjusting the sight of one of his blasters. A few of his men looked the woman up and down, many in awe at the sight of an Arkanian. Then, there were those that only had disdain in their eyes.

He looked at her ship, examining it. He gave off a low hum. "An Elysium ship?" he said, amused. "Where'd you find that beauty?" They had time before the freighter arrived, it was a victimless question.

Victoria Cross

 

[Victoria Cross]

She looked at the crew, a slightly amused smile on her face. Not the most polished but they looked hardy. And all that matters was they could get the job done. For all she cared, they could run around in kilts wielding gungan shields and shotguns...though she might avoid spending much time around them if that were the case.

She gave a smile for anyone who actually made eye contact, and a smirk for those who didn't like it. She glanced at her ship and took in a breath as James mentioned it, "Surprised you could tell, nice eye. There's not many of that specific model out there that I know of." She shook her head thinking about it, "Honestly, if I'd have been the one doing the deciding. I wouldn't have gotten it. I hadn't gotten as far as I have now in business yet. I'd definitely already started making quite a few contacts though, that's just how I work. They chose to give that to me. Rather surprising, but I imagine they've gotten credits out of it. Boost some of their profits with extra deals across enough people and they likely already make back their money. Though I don't know if they really made back their value. Ship like that is worth a lot more than just the credits it took to make it."

Victoria chuckled and glanced at the sky, "Perhaps they're more capable of prediction than I give them credit for. Alternative Aquisitions and I should have quite a few years left. It's very feasible there's much more value to be gained in boosting an indirect ally than just handing it to another operative."

It was indeed somewhat of an oddity that she received it. She at first was quite concerned, especially due to the considerable quality the ship seemed to have. It even came pre-stocked with elysium empire equipment, including uniforms. Though, she doubted those would get her very far in some kind of spy mission. Especially as she was likely on a record of some kind due to having the ship in the first place. "Can't promise anything that advanced. But you're in the right line of work if it's the sort of thing you're interested in. Mercenary work can pay extremely well and is more reliable than bounty hunting. Even if it's a bit more harsh."

James Ephraim

 

[James Ephraim]

James couldn't agree more with her on that last part. He spent the better part of his youth bounty hunting. It was enjoyable, for those who lived for action. But for most, it was the only option in a long line of careers. James didn't fall into either category. From the moment he was saved from slavery on Zeltros, he changed. Hunting was his culture, it was ingrained in the Mandalorian lifestyle, and he too was rooted in it. It was as natural as walking.

"I can imagine why they'd gift such a thing," He responded, "Back when I was still hunting, people would pay me in the craziest ways. It was always the price we agreed on, just in weird forms. The most common of these was beskar. They give it in weapons, bars, sometimes armor. They always phrased it like I was receiving a gift, like it was a great thing that called for celebration."

It was demeaning in many ways, it denounced the work he'd done. It was a power play, one that reminded you of the order things went about, and a crude attempt to befriend the hunter.

James continued. "I hated when those di'kuti did that. Credits work just fine, no need in hampering me. It's like they don't even know how hard it is to sell beskar, even though they tried so hard to get it."

Then there were those that 'paid in fame'. James seethed. Those we the worst.

Victoria Cross

 

[Victoria Cross]

She smiled at his first comment...seemed an agreement. Or compliment, whether meant as one or not. He did go on however, with his own personal experience in gifts. From people he worked for though. And...not gifts, payments. She soon caught on to the more negative tone of it, not that he seemed to hide it. Of course. To them, they were honoring his past or his people. But in doing so they made it seem like it was a thing of the past, or that he couldn't connect to it on his own. Mandalorians, they had a reputation. Some of the most capable people in existence when it came to violence not because of their species but because if you weren't capable, you died. Probably one of the few cultures, especially outside of the force users, that truly held their ground throughout history. Well, them and the underworld. But you could never get rid of the underworld as long as there was a world to have it.

Victoria tilted her head and smiled almost empathetically. "Well then, I'll make sure not to gift you beskar." she responded nodding her head, "I would certainly be quite frustrated if someone handed me some blaster rifle from my home world as my payment."

As the ship landed, she did come up with somewhat of an...easier solution to his problem and chuckled slightly, "In the future though, if someone else does pull that and won't give you your credits. Connecting buyers and sellers is literally my companies job. Can't say I've done much with beskar personally, but we'd be remaining on topic, because Mandalarms works with the Elysium Empire as well, so I at least have somewhere to start." she furrowed her brow, "Wait, they may have rebranded to something else by now. Dar'Manda I think. I won't pretend I know if that's an offense to you or not."

She groaned as the ship opened up, there'd be a short time of refueling but they'd be ready to head off soon enough. There perhaps was more value to be gained in this. Her own work meant he wouldn't have to deal with any concerns about people paying with the wrong currency, if she remained a go between. And even if he worked for someone else and they did do that, she'd potentially still get something out of it, acting as a buyer for him, thus ensuring he didn't have to waste his time trying to sell whatever he got. At least, that was her consideration of how it could go down.

James Ephraim

 

[James Ephraim]

Listening to the Arkanian, James had to say how refreshing it was that someone understood. It never was much offense to him, really, but someone altering the pay never sat well. He raised his hand in a gesture to his men, ordering them to their preassigned ships. They'd gone over the plan beforehand, people were chosen based on their abilities and experience. Retired pilots went on the combat ships, along with some rookies. Those that had been with them for a while or had military training went with the cargo. It paid to have a well-organized team.

James walked to the cargo ship, stopping just at the ramp. "No need in worrying about offending me, Ms. Cross. I'm as good an example of Mandalorians as a womp rat is to a krayt dragon."

Victoria herself didn't seem that good an example of Arkanians. He'd always heard they were prideful, that they cared little for the rest of the people in the galaxy and that they believed themselves to be at the peak of evolution. She didn't seem too prideful at all, at least towards him. She did hold herself higher than most though, that was to be expected.

He was about to turn and go into the ship but remembered something last second. "Something I should have mentioned earlier. We produce some of our own gear. Most of it comes from contracted R&D groups. It's fairly standard things, weapons, armor, and some other equipment. I think recently they started work on an original design though, some kind of blaster pistol. I can't remember exactly. If you ever felt like shipping unmarked weaponry, maybe we could strike up a deal."

He continued up the ramp, finding a seat in the cockpit.

Victoria Cross

 

[Victoria Cross]

She nodded to his comment about how much of a mandalorian he was. Did make that simpler. She preferred not to worry anyway but more caution was necessary with mercenaries, especially ones you weren't already familiar with. Thier abilities made them more dangerous.

Ah, there was more to know then. They had productions of their own. Naturally, there were plenty of ways to make use of any combat equipment they were willing to trade or sell. There were always buyers for those, "And likely we can, let me know when you're ready after the mission and we can consider sorting something out." she responded before heading back over to her own ship.

An original pistol design. Could hold value, without the actual specs she couldn't even begin actual calculations though. For all she knew they were crap as mechanics and engineers and the gun would barely function. Destroying and creating were still very different skill sets, and one was vastly easier than the other.

Victoria started up her ship and already began her take off. It was not that fast to get started so she had no reason to wait until the rest of them actually took off. Once they were out of atmosphere, the stealth would be used as long as possible, though she'd keep an eye out for comms chatter to ensure she didn't miss any warnings or attempted communications.

Ah, a familiar feeling. Supervising mercs or hunters or law enforcement as they went to do a job that someone else wanted done. It was so much bigger this time. Back on coruscant, she might deal with a freighter or two. But this was four ships and then an additional trek on land. And not to mention the monetary and value improvement. This was the correct decision she believed.

James Ephraim