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Forming a Pact

Keter

The Renegade
Writer
Immeria, the planet of winds. A small rock far from prying eyes, it was the home of Keter Mason. Renegade. Sith. Traitor. Father. He had worn many masks in his time, and he would continue to wear many more for years to come. It was his nature. Elliot Barnabus rolled his shoulders, working out the kinks in his muscles as he leaned back in the chair, his feet propped up on the meeting table. His hair was turning greyer with each passing year, and unwelcome reminder of his age. Fifty was sliding away from him, and sixty was slowly looming. He should have been a grandfather now, and long retired. Not still running around like a member of the Sith Army, as he had at the age of twenty. He was getting old. They all were. He could see it in the way they moved.

Rooks was a clone with advnaced ageing, so he already appeared far older than his two decades of life required. He had taken to walking with a cane, and rarely chose to go without his armour and helmet, a reminder of the days he had commanded a Legion. Those days were long gone, those lifes all lost. Keter had thrown it all aside for her. And although Rooks had followed orders, and understood the man's decision, he had never quite forgiven him. Barnabus sighed. He knew a thing or two about being unforgiven. He had never forgiven himself after Korriban, after the Dathomir assault. Slevin was sat next to him, the towering clone always a full head taller than him, just as Keter had ordered. An engineered abberration, Slevin had been a clone trooper who had undergone extensive modification under Keter's orders. He was the seventh out of a batch of ten. He was the only one who had managed to survive so long. But he had taken to his new role of custodian of Keter's daughters with great enthusiasm. Much more than Barnabus had managed to muster up.

He missed his daughter. The old soldier crushed those memories before they arose again, letting his eyes move on to the last figure in the room. K-36215. The eldest member of Keter's retinue, the machine that had been with him from the start. A weird blend of protocol and assassin droid, K (as Feena Mason had come to call him) had always proven himself useful and friendly, and Barnabus was proud to call the droid his friend. He smiled soflty to himself. How things had changed. The doors hissed open and Keter strode in, interupting Barnabus' thoughts. The blond knight stood straight backed as he always did, as if ever on parade or on stage. HIs cold red eyes swept the room, and his face softened as he smiled at them, his family.

"Good to see you all again," he started with a nod. Barnabus nodded back, wondering what went on in the blond's mind. The young man was...not altogether there. But that is what made it so interesting to work for him. "I'll be brief. Since our application was processed and approved, our little...organisation has made nary a move. Suggestions?"

Ah, so that was it. Keter was bored. Barnabus folded his arms across his chest as Rooks spoke. "As always, the chief goal should be expansion. Resources are needed. To obtain them, we need to earn some start up capital, and establish a reputation," the clone commander outlined bluntly. Keter nodded his assent to the veteran's opinion.

"I have considered that issue, and wish to utilise an asset we have not truly been considering," the force user explained, taking a seat. "Zandra."

Barnabus snorted despite himself. "That street walker? Exactly what kind of outfit you trying to run, boss?" he asked with a raised eyebrow. Brining Zandra anywhere near Dis would be...bad. Feena would murder them for exposing the girls to that woman.

"She has social talents, though they may be rough shod. She is also the perfect deniable asset. Who would imagine her to be a threat?" Keter countered with a polite smile, falling into scheming mode. Barnabus wanted to roll his eyes. "But Rooks' point still stands. We would need a few more folks to expand our operations. In order to garner interest, we better come up with something....interesting to catch attention." Now Barnabus groaned. Keter loved performing for a crowd. He was ridiculously dramatic, but that made everything a tad more fun than when he had been in the army.

The commando rubbed his eyes as he looked up at his boss. "What do you have in mind?"
 

Zandra Tal'verda

Lady Luck
Character
Zandra was sleeping off a hangover on top of a pile of dirty clothes in her ship. She snored loudly, spread out to take up as much room as was possible, sleeping in exactly what she had worn for the last day or so. Her days of gambling for a living were over...
That didn't mean she had stopped taking peoples credits all together, of course. There wasn't a force in the Galaxy that could stop her gambling.

The Echani snored even louder and rolled... right off the mattress. She woke the instant her head hit the hard ground wth a stream of filthy curses.


@[member="Keter"]
 

Keter

The Renegade
Writer
Barnabus bit back a curse. Of course that's what Keter would have in mind. And now here was, in the seediest dock he had ever seen, thankful for the armour on his back as he marched to the ship the blond had pointed out to him. Precisely why HE had to do this eluded him, but he had rarely questioned Keter without good cause. And though his cuases for arguing this time were good, he had also recognised them as petty. So Elliot Barnabus walked the dark pit that was the underworld of Coruscant, having finally found the errant woman. THe blond had provided him with the codes to identify the ship, and Barnabus had had to improvise a little bit in getting to the dock. Getting to the ship was the easy part. Security in places such as this was a joke. He kept his mask on, prefgerring the stale recycled air to the murky ooze that passed for an atmosphere this far down. He remembered running theoreticals back when he was with the SIth Army, of coordinating strikes from Coruscant's underworld. The situation down here was bad enough to potentially classify as a death world. The finest place to hide.

He and Keter had discussed many theoreticals during his scheming, and had debated the finer points of several practicals as well. But those thoughts were all disctractions from the task at hand. He bit back a sigh as he approached the ship he had been briefed on. It was a utalitarian thing. Unremarkable. No wonder Keter liked it. The commando strode up and knocked on the bulkhead door twice with his armored gauntlet, herlading his arrival. He had the codes to gian entry, but that would be too...simple? He waited for a few minutes before beginning to slice the door open, lines of code streaming past his goggle's HUD. This would either get her to answer the door faster. Or open the door for him anyway.

@[member="Zandra Fenni"]
 

Zandra Tal'verda

Lady Luck
Character
As Zandra nursed the new bump on her forehead and stuck a stale ration bar in her mouth, she tried to change her clothes for the first time in a few days. Her hair was a mess and her stockings were torn to shreds. Not to mention, her top smelled like a bar. With one hand, she pulled off her top, threw it into the pile on the mattress and started looking for something... not completely filthy. That was about when someone so rudely knocked, then tried to force their way in. She chewed on the ration bar in her mouth. Who would bug her now?
Zandra made sure she was at least wearing a bra and snatched up the first blaster she could find laying around the messy ship. As she made her way through, she took a second to check the screen to see who it was. Unfortunately, all she was getting was static. The Echani grumbled at the inconvenience, trying to curse with her mouth full. With weapon raised, she hit the button to open the door.
Better to just let 'em in.

"Whuyuan?"

@[member="Keter"]
 

Keter

The Renegade
Writer
The door hissed open whilst Barnabus was toying with the slicing mechanism. The protocols were built from basic devices and programs, but had a lot of unique little touches to make the lock an entertaining challenge. He could have bullrushed his way through the programming to override the system, but that would have been rude. In any case, the inhabitant of the ship made sure to open the door before then. He straightened and looked at her before sighing and raising a hand to pinch the bridge of his nose. "Miss Zandra...put something on. I swear your mother is spinning in her grave somewhere," he said, trying to remove the image of the young woman in front of him looking....a lot less than respectable. Even during drunken benders with his squad back on Korriban he had never come across such a sight.

@[member="Zandra Fenni"]
 

Zandra Tal'verda

Lady Luck
Character
Zandra narrowed her eyes and turned around, motioning for 'Barny' to follow her inside. It was too... blah outside for her right now.

"Oh ish jus oo," she mumbled through a mouthful of food. She swallowed, took a seat on a white leather bench covered with dirty underwear.

"And my mother is alive and well, I'm afraid. If she were dead, you can bet I'd be dancing on that old hags grave as we speak."

She leaned back with her head resting on on of her hands behind her, staring at the ceiling. She completely ignored his 'request' that she put something on.

"And you never answered," she added, waving the remains of the ration bar at him, "What. Do. You. Want?"

@[member="Keter"]
 

Keter

The Renegade
Writer
Barnabus followed the young woman in, rolling his eyes as he took in the cluttered interior of the ship. It would certainly aid in defense but...it rankled him. Order of some kind was necessary. This was chaos. "Keter Mason sent me. He has a job proposal," the elderly soldier explained, keeping his gze politely averted as the woman continued to thrust her assets out there for the galaxy to see. "Huh, troubled childhood? How mundane," he snorted. "In any case, for reasons above my paygrade, Keter wants your support in something."

@[member="Zandra Fenni"]
 

Zandra Tal'verda

Lady Luck
Character
"Not interested."

She yawned, stretching her arms above her head. Her hand finally found a black loose fitting tank top on the back of the bench and she sniffed it really quick. Clean...ish. She threw it on, and took another bite. She chewed for a moment, watching the older man to see if he would leave.
"...Okay okay! Tell me anyways! What does the guy want me to do?"

@[member="Keter"]
 

Keter

The Renegade
Writer
Barnabus pinched the bridge of his nose again. He was too old for this stupidity. Still, he had a job to do. "Nothing special. He wishes tyo employ you in an official basis in his company. You would be required to...well, practically be yourself but consider any 'guidance' as to where to go," he explained, rolling his shoulders as he looked down on the woman once she finally dressed herself. "Basically, party all you want, but mostly where we want you to. If you think you can handle further responsibilities, there would be an equivalent pay increase," the commando added, reaching into his pokcet to pull out a holocron contianing the information. It was suitably coded, though if the woman was any good slicer she'd know what was on it before he left the ship. There had to be something about her, otherwise Keter would not have paid such attention to her.

@[member="Zandra Fenni"]
 

Zandra Tal'verda

Lady Luck
Character
It sounded... okay. But Zandra knew better than to take anything at face value.

"Mason wouldn't pay me to just party," she said doubtfully, snapping a bit of protein bar in half, "What does he really need me to do. Be blunt. I got a hangover the size of Coruscant."

@[member="Keter"]
 

Keter

The Renegade
Writer
"Fact is you're too unreliable to actually do what he would like, so he makes do with what you can do," Barnabus snapped back. "Ideally he would have had you as a distraction, someone to draw admiring looks, to get close to people. But you can't do that," the commando explained, reigning in his annoyance. It would be unfair to vent completely on the woman. "Well, not now, and you don't strike me as the type to learn either. So. You walk into places we can't, carrying the odd surveillance tool. That's it."

@[member="Zandra Fenni"]
 

Zandra Tal'verda

Lady Luck
Character
Unreliable! Zandras face turned pink with rage. How dare this old man talk to her like that! She was Zandra Fenni! She was Lady Luck!

"Watch me," she snapped, taking his doubts as a challenge, "I'll be the best kriffing, err... learner ya ever seen!"

She wasn't going to be told what she could and could not do! She could do anything she wanted to know how to do. The Echani crossed her legs, shoved the rest of the ration bar in her mouth and chewed angrily.

@[member="Keter"]
 

Keter

The Renegade
Writer
Barnabus coolly eyed her counter-challenge. "Really? I fail to see any proof to back up your words," the older man replied, looking about him. "You lack discipline. You won't commit to anything. You won't learn." It was a mere statement of fact as far as he was concerned.

@[member="Zandra Fenni"]
 

Zandra Tal'verda

Lady Luck
Character
Zandra swallowed the rest of the ration bar as threw the wrapper into the small pile that was building at her feet.

"Discipline makes people settle. Commitment get's people killed," she answered flatly all of a sudden taking on a whole new tone, "and my.... reluctance to learn does not mean that I lack the ability."

Upon hearing the way she spoke out loud, she rolled her eyes. She sounded just like her sister.

"I mean, common. Ketter aint exactly typical neihter."

@[member="Keter"]
 

Keter

The Renegade
Writer
Barnabus raised an eyebrow at that. "Then how do you suggest to prove you are cpaable of learning?" he countered. "And I will give you that point about Keter. Still, he has achieved more than you despite that, no?" he asked with a faint grin.

@[member="Zandra Fenni"]
 

Zandra Tal'verda

Lady Luck
Character
Zandra barked a laugh, putting both hands behind her head.
"Puh-lease! Betcha Keter never got kicked from a casino for winning too much!"

She grinned at the memory. Such good times...

"Gimmy a job and I'll do it. I got nothin' to prove to you, but I can't say no to a challenge,"

@[member="Keter"]
 

Keter

The Renegade
Writer
Barnabus kept a smile off his face. Keter had been right. A woman with a lot to prove. To herself. He nodded slowly, still showing his distaste for her living quarters, but focusing on the task at hand. "Simple. We wish to clear up a few...spice deals that have been occurring within Confederacy space. Some of them are being financed by...important sponsors. We merely wish to discover whether these rumours are true. And that's when you would come in - you'd attend a gala, a ball, any kind of large shindig hosted by a suspect, and observe. Place the odd tracer here and there. It would require subtelty. I trust you can manage that?"

@[member="Zandra Fenni"]
 

Zandra Tal'verda

Lady Luck
Character
A gala. A ball. The boring kind of party. Zandra sighed hand over her face.

"Fine," she sighed, "Can do. Sounds easy enough. I expected a challenge."

She looked disappointed. So cleaning up a little crime. She wasn't the maid. Still, if this was what Keter wanted her to do, she'd do it.

@[member="Keter"]
 

Keter

The Renegade
Writer
Barnabus allowed a small smile to show this time. Keter had briefed him on the details of his target. "Sometimes of course, we would have to track things to their source, so you'd have to approach the dealers themselves in less...reputable locals," he added almost as an afterthought. "BUt your agreement is welcome," he said pulling out a datapad and typing a few details onto it. "I will forward you the contract details as well as any recommendations you may require. Welcome to the Pact," the commando said, transferring the information, along with contact details, to Zandra's holonet account. Keter had of course kept tabs on her and knew it already, but the blond had stated it would be rude to just impersonally deliver such an offer to the woman.

@[member="Zandra Fenni"]
 
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