Public Death and Taxes

[Aurelian Dash]

Source Photo: Link to Artist
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’Tis impossible to be sure of any thing but Death and Taxes,
~ The Cobbler of Preston by Christopher Bullock
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Varada V
​

The tax man cometh. It was the last few words scrawled on the page of antiquity, the diary laying discarded upon the floor of the small hovel. Its interior had been ransacked, chairs overturned and blinds ripped from their housings. Blankets, drawers, and clothes strewn across the small space that had once been someone's home. A small apartment located above what had been a pawn shop, strange antiquities and consignment items contained in the cases and lock boxes below. Down the street a hunched over figure strayed for just a moment into the errant beam of a streetlight. A low whisper escaped his lips. "Target just ahead." Shrouded eyes searched the street for stragglers. Content the street was empty the man moved forward, and gruff voice lowered spoke again. "Watch my back, I'll get the door." Moving swiftly, Aurelian approached the sealed door and retrieved a small device from his trenchcoat's pocket. Grasping the old handle he made as if to attempt picking the lock but a small squeak issued from the hinges as it slowly opened. Red flags popped up in the man's mind instantly. This time of evening, this kind of business - it shouldn't have been merely open to the touch. An instant later the device found itself replaced by a small micro-blaster pistol. "It's open." he mumbled to his companion.

With a quick glance over his shoulder Aurelian signalled his intent and slipped inside the door. Before he had even crossed the threshold he had cleared nearly 75% of the room - or at least what he could see of it. It was a mess of salvage, containers, loose odds and ends, and behind the transparisteel casing - more valuable items. It was dimly lit, the only light emanating from a neon "Closed" sign in the front window and a small back room light which spilled into the main area. Crouching, blaster leveled in front of himself, Aurelian shifted to his left, letting his companion slip in behind to cover the right. Step. Step. Lean. Manuevering through the tight rows before him, Aurelian cleared them one at a time. "Something isn't right." he verbalized, eyes searching for his fellow compatriot. "Clear left. " he added, indicating there seemed to be no intruder still present.

It had been a rocky road to say in the least, the effort it had taken him to track down this lead had been more luck than skill - at least that's how he'd felt. The FOSB was far from a well organized or equipped. Or funded for that matter. Much of their intelligence still relied on the tried and true method of HUMINT. Or ALIINT Aurelian supposed. Personal contacts, individual initiative. Nothing he wasn't used to but it had been a far cry from the heyday of fieldcraft where the gadgets did most of the work for you. This time he'd been wary about approaching the target alone - too many variables. Thusly the veteran had hand selected Isobel Nakano, a veteran in her own right.

"Stairs ahead." he whispered. "Advance on your go." he said, taking up position at the base of the stairs.

 

[Isobel Nakano]

It was a veritable treasure trove of stuff. Old books, electronic equipment, bits and bobs, like a junk drawer writ large. A shiny something distracted Agent Lotus' magpie mind for a moment as she traced along the right side perimeter, though she couldn't quite make out what it was beneath the security glass in the dark. A brooch, perhaps, or a necklace. Her partner's report drew her back to the mission at hand, and she cleared her throat.

"Clear right," Isobel responded, her posh accent succinct and clipped for the operation. She continued scanning the shop, eyes narrowing at this detail and that as her eyes tried to determine what was useful intelligence and what was superfluous, background noise. Her grip on her blaster pistol relaxed. "Go for stairs," she continued. "Covering."

As her companion went for the doorway to the stairwell, Isobel took up a central position behind him, sweeping her gaze left and right. As Aurelian advanced to the stairs, Isobel approached the entry door and threw the bolt. If they were being followed, at least this would give them some advance warning. She didn't think the situation warranted the caution, at least in this part of the shop. They were alone, at least for the time being.

The young Atrisian climbed the stairs, her footfalls all but silent. The stairs squeaked faintly in protest underfoot and Isobel froze, snapping her blaster up towards the second-floor landing, as if expecting someone to look over the railing and spot her. She stayed that way for a handful of beats, then continued up the steps, soon pushing into the ruined apartment with Aurelian. "Stang," Isobel swore under her breath as her dark gaze took in the room. After a survey of the tossed apartment, she murmured, "I think we're clear." She holstered her blaster. "Well... I've got some good news and some bad news. Which do you want first?"

Aurelian Dash​

 

[Aurelian Dash]

Falling in step with the young Atrisian Aurelian switched the blaster from one hand to the other to get a better angle on the staircase - just in case. He didn't like this one bit. The door below, now secured, should have been secured from the start. A grimace slipped across his usually stoic expression as his compatriot offered bad or good news. "The bad first." He grumbled quietly. From where he now stood at the top of the stair the situation began to clear up - figuratively anyway. The apartment was a mess but it wasn't just the overturned furniture or the general state of disrepair that caught his attention. "Ah kark." His raised blaster dipped. "I guess we're not going to get much information out of him. Looks like someone beat us to the punch. Maybe they missed something." he stated matter of factly before scanning the room again. Maybe the man had something on him? No - whomever had arrived before them, whomever had done this had certainly checked there. There had to be something here they could use, a clue, a hint as to where the data cache had been stored. Perhaps they weren't too late after all. He could only hope.

Though he considered it an exercise in futility the man began to search the deceased's pockets. Taking a knee he quickly ruffled through several pockets before giving up. As he'd thought, nothing. He rest there for a moment on one knee, silently observing the scene before his eyes landed on the dead man's gaze. "That's odd." he muttered. Following the lifeless eyes with his own he looked up at the wall, a small tapestry draped on a hangar against the durasteel. "It couldn't be that easy could it?" Aurelian could feel his heart beat faster. For weeks they'd been tracking leads on an old First Order data cache that could provide priceless information on old weapons caches, more intel caches, and maybe even secret installations lost to the void at the First Order's collapse. It was a tantalizing prospect.

"Help me look, maybe we'll find something." he added. Following the man's gaze, he began to investigate the hanging tapestry. There was nothing spectacular about it that he could tell. Geometric lines, abstract designs, nothing that seemed to suggest that it itself was a clue. That's when he saw it. The smallest of aura's emanating from behind the tapestry. Brushing it aside he found a small wall panel with a keypad beside. "I think I've got something." he motioned towards the wall. "Check this out - think you can get it open?" he inquired.

Isobel Nakano​

 

[Isobel Nakano]

"The bad news is that someone has tossed this apartment," Isobel said. She continued checking behind things -- furniture, drapes, cabinets -- until she was satisfied that they alone were still alive in the space. "I mean, really tossed the place." The agent reached into her pockets and pulled out a pair of latex gloves, into which she worked her slender hands. "Also, your man is dead," she added, as if it was an afterthought.

"The good news is, whoever did this is -- as we say in the business -- a complete kriffing idiot." The crudeness of the language seemed an odd contrast with Isobel's charming features and the posh gleam of her accent. "Toss the apartment, but not the shop? There's got to be a couple hundred quid worth of merchandise down there. Couple thousand, depending on the quality of the jewelry in the case. Anyone worth a fig would have made it look like a botched smash-and-grab. If we weren't already here, we'd be hearing about it in the next couple of days, I'm sure. The locals wouldn't know what to make of it."

As she spoke, Isobel rifled through the knocked-over filing cabinet. She found nothing, but was expecting to find nothing, so it wasn't a surprise. She dropped the file she had been examining unceremoniously when Aurelian Dash asked for her attention, turning. "Probably," she said. It wasn't bravado, or at least it wasn't unearned bravado. "Can you shine a light?" She drew a small compact from her pocket and flipped it open. On the surface it looked like powered makeup.

That's because it was powdered makeup.

She picked up the small puff and dabbed it in the makeup, then dusted the keypad, then blew on it. Most of the dust evaporated. Five keys retained a smudge of dusting. "Five keys. Five digits to the code. Give me a few minutes."

 

[Zole]

Dogs had to be kept on leashes. Kaelan had been on tens of worlds that he had officially never been to. There was always someone holding the leash. Whether it was a politician on the end of a secure line or an agent in the field there was always someone ready to yank on the leash. Or to unclip the chain.

Kaelan - or FS-551 when he was wearing storm commabdo armour - was a blunt tool. In civvies he trained and armed soldiers who weren't supposed to be trained, he kicked down doors that weren't supposed to be kicked down and he pulled assets out of the fire.

The leather creaked as he settled further back into the chair. Kaelan had a rented land speeder parked two blocks from the pawn shop. In the old days it would have all been arranged for him. Several ID cards, the rental vehicle keys, weapons all in a lock box near the space port. He had to arrange things for himself now, fill out paperwork with the single fake ID he was given. A lot of the old infrastructure was gone.

No one had paid him any attention yet; it was a quiet road. Unlike a lot of people Kaelan could be alone with his thoughts for days without feeling restless. The agents were taking their time, but certainly he hadn't reached the point where he felt enough concern to go and check or call anything in.

 

[Aurelian Dash]

"A few minutes it is." he mused, turning away from the pad and giving the room another once over. Hopefully we find something. Aurelian stepped over to a small cabinet, eyeballing a few of the bottles on it's surface. The facts of their newfound situation confirmed it in his mind - there had been something here. A clue of some sort that had led the murderer to determine the deceased was no longer needed. What that was he couldn't say, and why the keypad had remained uncovered, he could only guess at. Whatever information the assailant had been after he'd gotten and beaten the Bureau's agents to it. With luck, they'd be able to catch up. "Almost there?" he inquired, reaching for one of the bottles. Uncorking it he set it back on the cabinet, retrieving a small pocket flask of his own before beginning to fill it with the opened bottle.

Screwing the lid closed secure he replaced the bottle and keyed up his comm twice. Two short chirps to let their driver they were just about ready. "Best we regroup and figure out a course of action once you get that pad taken care of. Whatever is in there this fellow wanted to keep safe." Giving the room one final glance he noticed something out of place. A matchbook on the corner of the cabinet he'd just 'acquired' the liquor from. The symbol was unfamiliar to the man. A club? A bar? He held onto the matchbook, flipping it over between his fingers. Looking back towards Isobel, he raised an eyebrow. It looked like she was making progress at least. "Don't 'ave all day now kid." he prodded.

Isobel Nakano | Zole​

 

[Isobel Nakano]

"Patience is a virtue," Isobel murmured in a singsong. A moment later, the lock clicked and she pulled the handle. She frowned and stood on her tip-toes to survey an empty safe. She paused and dropped down onto flat feet to turn back to Aurelian Dash. She took the matchbox and turned it over in her hand, then stuck it in her pocket, turning her attention to the safe. "Maybe whoever tossed the place cleared it out already. Or..." She ran her hand along the back of the safe, fingers sliding along the corners and edges until she felt something give beneath the pressure. She made an unsatisfied noise and then pressed harder on the back of the panel until it gave, and she felt and heard a solid clicking noise in the wall. "...not."

She stepped back as the wall panel slid open to reveal a small room. It looked like a study or office of some kind. She drew her gun and pointed it around the doorway, scanning the room until she was sure it was clear. "We're clear," she reported and holstered her gun again. "You want to take a look in here? I'm going to run this matchbox symbol through the system."

She set the matchbook down, folded open so she could see the symbol, and pulled out her comlink. She accessed the camera app and held it up, scanning the matchbox. The search took about three minutes. "Anything in here? I've got a name and address for this symbol. I think it's some kind of nightclub, a couple of blocks away. She held up the datapad to show their relative locations, then nodded towards the items Aurelian appeared to be holding. "What's all this, then?"

Aurelian Dash | Zole​

 

[Aurelian Dash]

An incredulous expression painted itself across the man's gruff features. "Virtue?" He added, suppressing a chuckle. He found the irony amusing. A satisfying click met their ears and Aurelian observed with interest - until he saw what was inside. Or rather, what wasn't. A frown and a narrowing of eyes later, he watched as Isobel returned, hands feeling around on the inside of the safe. "It didn't appear to be disturbed." he added. Another click and a whir later the entire wall panel had shifted revealing a small space beyond. Aurelian's hand slipped inside his coat at first but as the woman cleared the room he realized they were still clear.

At her invitation, Aurelian spent the next few moments rifling through some loose papers, tabbing through a data pad on the desk, and searching the drawers for anything that might be a clue. "Doesn't look like whoever it was found this." he emphasized, emerging from a drawer with a code cylinder grasped between his fingers. Looking it over, he found no clue as to what it belonged to save a small symbol engraved on its cap. Wrinkling his nose he stepped back over to where Isobel now stood. "Hey, check it out."

The symbol etched upon the cylinder was a copy of the one on the matchbook. "Interesting." Aurelian mused as he held the two side by side. "Looks like you've found our next stop Lotus. What do we do about all this?" he motioned to the corpse and general disarray. "Call a cleaner or leave it be?" He knew what he would have done but he wanted to test his new compatriot. The odds weren't great that anyone would find the body for at least a week. The shop below was still pristine. "See if there's anything downstairs we want to swipe and make it look like a robbery gone bad?" he suggested. There were a few odds and ends he'd made mental note of as they'd entered.

Isobel Nakano | Zole​

 

[Isobel Nakano]

Isobel peered down at the little cylinder, dark eyes narrowing. "I'm sure that's just a coincidence, right?" she asked dubiously. "The place is close enough to check out. But yeah, we should probably toss the place downstairs. Then I'll find a public call box and make an anonymous report. Insurance will make his next of kin whole. If he had a next of kin. Poor bastard," she said, nodding towards the other room.

She took the stairs back down to the shop and, after a brief sigh, she smashed the jewelry case and helped herself to a few shinies that her professional eye determined might have some actual value. Then she moved onto the weapons and rare books. Her bag was full-to-bursting by the time they left the shop. They stopped off at the van and delivered the goodies. "You should stash the van," Isobel told Aurelian Dash as she pulled a jacket over her stealth gear. If they were going clubbing, they'd need to look the part, after all. "I'll find a call box and ring the alarm. Where should we rendezvous?"

With that settled, Isobel left the van and pulled the hood of her jacket up, strolling along the sidewalk for a few blocks until she found the callbox. She called the authorities and claimed to see a robbery in process at the shop, then hung up and left the box, heading quickly for the rendezvous.

Aurelian Dash | Zole​

 

[Aurelian Dash]

"Best five finger discount this side of the Ison Corridor." he joked, quickly perusing the items on the main floor. He too found several odds and ends that would fetch a price but what really interested him was the weapons case at the end of the stall. Looking around for a moment, Aurelian found what he was looking for. In one swift motion he picked up a cast iron fire poker from the metal basket he'd observed and slammed it hard into the counter, a satisfying crunch and tinkle of glass filling the otherwise quiet shop. Reaching inside the newly created hole the man retrieved a few smaller blaster pistols, stuffing them in his pockets before grasping the stock of a larger carbine. "Now we're talking." he hefted it.

Satisfied with his own haul he noted his partner's nearly overflowing pockets. Had it not been such a serious situation he might have even laughed. "I've got a spot marked out for it." he replied, "You hit the callbox, We'll meet you at the corner of..." he had to think for a moment. "Caltex Row and Exeter." Poking his head out of the shop's door he surveyed the street. Just as quiet as it was when they'd arrived. Reaching into his pocket he tapped the comm line twice, their signal for pickup. "Here, let me get those - you go find the callbox." Aurelian reached out for the woman's newly liberated stash of things. Collecting the things in a small pile by the door, Aurelian kept an eye on the street. If the signal had been received, a landspeeder of some sort would come barreling down the road, ready to pick him up. He could fill in their driver as to their new plan moving forward once the gear was stowed.

While Lotus found a callbox, he'd watch the street. He didn't want to linger any longer than necessary - besides, maybe they could still catch up to the mysterious murderer who'd beat them to the punch.

Isobel Nakano | Zole​

 

[Zole]

Isobel Nakano Aurelian Dash

Kaelan checked every mirror and looked up and down the street before he pulled out. The signal was for pickup and not an emergency. It still made him cautious. He would have expected them to just walk away if everything had gone well, if they had picked up the asset without issue.

He wasn't paid to think these things through. Kaelan was here with a very specific job. The specifics being that he was here to do as he was told. There were times when the reins went slack, when he worked far away from home and called shots himself. Those were the times when no one wanted to know the specifics of how he did his job.

The land speeder wasn't pulled up right outside the shop. Kaelan stopped on the oppositedv side of the street, giving himself a view of the front door. He could see the van the two agents had taken. Everything was quiet, but he kept a hand against his jacket, close to his blaster.

 

[Isobel Nakano]

Isobel's pace quickened as she walked away from the callbox, her footfalls the only local noise although the city continued to live and breathe around her. She had made it to the corner of Caltex Row and Broadview Avenue when she heard the sirens in the distance. She glanced at her datapad; she was far enough now from the shop and apartment that she shouldn't be suspicious. She hurried up Caltex Row, and soon found herself where it intersected with Exeter. She scanned the four corners of the intersection as she approached. One corner housed what was almost certainly a twi'lek prostitute, her mesh bodysuit leaving little to the imagination. The opposite corner had bags of garbage piled against the stone wall of the building like ivy, the base of the pile expanding like a pyramid onto the sidewalk. The third corner featured two beings that Isobel couldn't quite make out, but whose faces were alternately lit up, a purple smoke rising from between them. Some kind of spice, she imagined.

So she stood on the fourth corner and lifted her comlink to her ear. "Lotus," she muttered so as to not be overheard. "In position. I've got eyes on the location... I think."

She lifted her datapad and snapped a few photographs, then uploaded them to Aurelian Dash and Zole so they could see what she saw. A squat building half a block down on the opposite side of the street, with flashing neon signs advertising all manner of sin, with silhouettes of cocktail glasses, music notes, and feminine curves blinking in and out of existence. From her vantage point, Isobel could sense more than hear the beat of the synth wave music that the club featured.

There was a queue at the front, it looked like, or maybe it was just people who had stepped out for a smoke. Her dark yes narrowed as she tried to make out more detail, but it was too dark to make out much more than the occasional throb of amber indicating the glowing embers of a cigarette or light, and the telltale cloud of smoke. She couldn't very well pull out a pair of binoculars or a surveillance drone now, could she?

She wondered idly, as she observed the front of the club, what Crane was doing now. "ETA?" she asked her partners.