Milkrun [Working the Shadows 1]

[Darth Abyss]

"Lord Abyss, I have the dossiers you asked for."

Wordlessly the sith lord reached for the datapad that the black hooded figure presented, giving the man a slight nod. As the figure disappeared from the secluded room inside his bunker on Nar Shaddaa, he began reading through the intel he had just been given. It was a long list of numerous names with biographies and skillsets attached to them. After a while of reading and silently marking a handful of names, he pressed a small button on his desk and in an instant the man returned to take the datapad of his hands.

"Make sure these find their way. Everything will happen as we discussed."


Nar Shaddaa, Rundown Bar

Abyss rested calmly on a table, a datapad in his hand. Prior to this he had send a message to Darth Vupua, a sith lord that a had a fragile loyalty to him in hope of learning how to walk and act in the shadows. She had been chosen to serve as the leader of the small group he was to assemble today. While time had passed, he had made the necessary precautions for the other datapads to find their new owners. Once turned on, they would show the address and coordinates of his position, plus a time and date of this meeting. The message was signed not with his sith moniker, but with a variation of the name he used in the underworld: Prophet.

Everything but the lower half of his face hidden under his hood and mask, the sith waited for the arrival of his new team. Besides Vupua he had picked the team for a number of reasons. Their skills had been one key part of the process, the rest was them being rather blank slates compared to many on his list. He didn't needed the best of the best, he need a team that way fresh and quick to adapt to a new situation, while not being to caught up in their personal teams to resist working in a new one.

On the table in front of him rested a bottle of whisky, and five glasses, one for him and one for everyone else. He had kept the task he was about to give out a secret, not only to hide his operations but because he wanted to test how far the curiosity of this new team would take them. The table was set, now only time had to pass.

[member="Ryiah Tenriem"] [member="Avedia Lacroix"] [member="Rasor"] [member="Keric Dynt"]

 

[Rasor]

Prophet. The name kept bouncing around the Nightbrother's head since the datapad had turned on. He had known so called prophets before, didn't turn out well.

Somebody must think highly of themselves. He grinned slightly at the thought. The Dathomirian had been on Nar Shaddaa before, that didn't keep him from partly forgetting what a jungle it was. One had to keep one's head on a swivel, especially in the area the coordinates told to meet. Getting shot or stabbed was not part of the plan. He didn't bother with concealing his identity. Unless something completely hid his face it didn't take a genius to figure out where he came from. Didn't keep him from getting dirty looks, unlike quite a few of the individuals on the streets, he looked clean.

He meandered his way through the crowd to a rundown bar. Didn't even have a name of the place. He raised the muscles where an eyebrow should be, as his people didn't have them. Maybe that's where the dirty looks came from. He grunted and walked in. The place was mostly empty, the only thing that caught his attention was a figure clad in black robes sitting at a table with more than one glass.

Logic dictates he's expecting company. He couldn't help but smirk at his point-out-the-obvious genius. His walk was cautious towards the table. It was his understanding he didn't have a price on his head at the moment but one couldn't be too careful. He pulled a seat back, the legs screeched slightly against the floor. No reaction from the figure.

I made the sound and even I cringed a little. He sat down and kept his hands to his sides, one hand reaching for the blaster on his left hip. He didn't plan on using it but he might as well be prepared. This wouldn't be the first time someone got shot under a table in a hive of scum and villainy. He could at least shoot first.

"The Prophet, I presume?"

[member="Darth Abyss"]

 

[Ryiah Tenriem]

Sat within the enclosed space of the small starship she had been allowed to use by her Lord, Ryiah held both of her hands within her lap as she knelt before the holotranciever. The skin along her knuckles was pale and taunt as twitches would run through the muscles of her body, a desire to flee from the confines that she found herself in warring within her own mind against stubbornness and a sense of loyalty to the Sith that had rescued her from the small prison, a place of ever constant torture designed to break her. Yes, she knew that he had not done so out of the kindness of his hearts, him most likely having a use for her, but she did not care. Her loyalty was to that man before all else.

The sound of the holotranciever activating drew Ryiah from her thoughts, mismatched eyes - one with a blue iris and one with a crimson iris atop of black sclera - to stare at the translucent, blue image of the cloaked form of the Sith she had sworn herself to, [member="Darth Lykos"]. For a short time, Ryiah simply stared at the Sith Lord before her with a sense of revereance before she bent forwards slightly, lekku falling forwards so that the tips would brush against the cold metal flooring. "My Lord." No words were exchanged for a minuet, Ryiah holding her hunched over position all the way, the years of acrobatic training she had received serving to aid her in doing so, the weight of the Zabrak's stare heavy and imposing, even if he was currently a hologram before her. However, finally, his gravelly voice would break the silence.

"Ryiah," mismatched eyes rose to stare at the Zabrak as she straightened herself up, "you are about to meet a man more than he seems. Prophet may be how he titled himself in your message, but you may recognise his other names. Darth Abyss, The Black Assassin, The Aspect of Famine, The Mind Eater." Indeed, Ryiah did recognise the other titles, for Lykos himself served alongside Abyss and, as such, knowledge of him had filtered down through the Zabrak's teachings. "You are not to reveal yourself as my agent unless confronted. This shall serve as a test of your skills, proof that you are worth the effort. Aid him whilst surviving beneath his notice, report to me on activities without him knowing. Prove yourself." The dismissive language used did little to harm the loyalty that the Togruta felt, for she knew that it was simply his way to speak as he did, with truths unobscured by pretty lies. "Rakama follows you."

With those final words, the holotransceiver shut down. However, out of all that had been said by Lykos, it was the final three words that had the largest impact of Ryiah. She could remember well Lykos saving her from the hell she had been trapped in and the feelings that had bloomed within her chest when he had welcomed her into his Clan, into Rakama, as an honorary, non-Zabrak member. It served to strengthen her loyalty to him, which she well knew had been his purpose, but she cared not for he gave her a home, a purpose and drive and, so, she would accept his manipulations openly. For, without that purpose, all she had was the insidious voice that whispered to her.

Lost in darkness without the light of the holotranciever, Ryiah collapsed forwards onto all fours, a giggling sob falling from her lips and her fists clenched once more. Already, without her Lord and Patriarchs presence, Her voice returned.

---

Striding down from the ship with grace, her hips swaying softly in a seductive manner that had been trained into her during her time in slavery, Ryiah paid no attention to the feeling of cold against her purple skin - covered only in a bra, loincloth, leather wraps around her forearms and a cloak that hung open as she was - and instead smirked softly at the gazes that ran across across her form, reveling in it. She did not care what sort of petty desire may run through their minds for should she be attacked, she was prepared to draw one of the four lightsaber hidden beneath the cloak or the dagger fastened to a sheath on her thigh.

Beneath the confident mask, the true Ryiah shivered within her mind from the cold gazes and the whispered temptations to tear apart those who possessed dark intentions to her that were whispered into her ear by Her. But, none the less, she pushed forwards, seeking for a means of transportation so as to travel to the coordinates that had been given to her and meet Prophet, meet Darth Abyss. At the thought of his name, Ryiah instinctively sunk further behind the mental defenses that her Lord had created for her before her departure from Shili. Without her notice, her fingers twitched at her side rapidly and without control in a subconscious twitch.

--

Walking into the room, her mismatched eyes scanned around in a quick flick, taking in as much as she could in one quick look, before landing on the two figures before her. One was a Zabrak, bearing a resemblance to her Patriarch and, sat opposite, was a robbed and masked man. From the files she had been given by her Lord, she assumed that this must be Abyss. Should the Sith Lord be looking close enough, he might be able to gleam the slight tensing of skin around her eyes as she recognised this fact.

Swaggering forth, Ryiah slid into one of the empty seat with the grace and poise that had been beaten into her, leaning back in a languish display of her entire body. Just as her Mask would. "Boys." The single word would serve as her greeting to both of them. "A pleasure."


[member="Rasor"] | [member="Darth Abyss"]

Spoiler

Abyss, we have discussed me involving my alt, Lykos, with Ryiah and having that play a part in this, but, if you're not okay with how I played it, just let me know.

 

[Darth Ayra]

| [member="Ryiah Tenriem"] | [member="Darth Abyss"] | [member="Rasor"] |

Darth Vupua turned to observe the landing ramp of the Initium closing in on itself, watching the shuttle bay doors close, and the exhaust of the hydraulic presses inside the ship working to close itself from the outside word. When she was happy that the shuttle was secure, Vupua turned to the exit and left the landing bay that had been assigned to her by the local custom control. She passed a group of thugs, who stopped their conversation mid-way through to watch her suspiciously. When they realized that she was paying them no attention, they returned to their debate about how they would pay off the younger of the two's debt at the Pazaak tables.

She decided to wear the cowl of her robe down this time. Normally, Vupua would have the hood raised above her head, so as to keep her facial features concealed from others, but on Nar Shaddaa it was a pointless exercise. Somehow, Darth Abyss had become a very influential figure on the Smuggler's Moon, to the point that he seemingly had an eye and/or ear in every single bar, establishment and street corner, constantly funneling news and information to the Sith Lord through the discreet web he had built. She was impressed, knowing that such an operation must have taken years to construct.

As she walked through the streets, Vupua wondered what Abyss had summoned her for. The proposed takeover of Iridonia, and the installation of Darth Ferox as King through a Graug led revolt had not yet come to pass. Such a complicated process was undoubtedly proving difficult, even for Abyss, it seemed. She smiled at the thought of the man she entered service to a couple of weeks ago having a tough time trying to install Ferox as King, relishing in his misfortunes. From what she currently knew, the reason why she had been summoned by Darth Abyss had nothing to do with Iridonia. By the time she reached the bar, having navigated her way through several bars and establishments en route, Vupua was curious to see what he wanted.

Opening the door, Vupua stepped in and shut it behind her. Her fiery eyes turned Darth Abyss, recognizing him from his stature and garb, before following upon the Zabrak. Her eyes trailed across the esoteric tattoos that covered his body, enjoying the art that lined his skin. They then fell upon the Twi'lek woman, eyes trailing along her Lekku down to her hips and back up to her face. Attractive, Vupua admitted to herself, conceding the Ryiah had a natural beauty to her. Extremely useful to those of who who practice the ways of the dark side.

Without another word to unknown Twi'lek or Zabrak, Vupua walked towards Abyss and lowered herself on one knee to the man. "What is thy bidding, my Lord?" Vupua asked, her voice laid with servitude and reverence to the man as one of his subordinates, as part of an elaborate and charming deception designed to one day catch Abyss off guard. When that day came, Vupua would finish what she had started on Korriban.

 

[Darth Abyss]

"Well looks like we are one short. Not a problem I can not solve."

With the slightest possible grin the sith lord tipped on the comm on his arm, sending a signal to his men that plan b was required. He had planned in case this would happen, and kept a talented bounty huntress on hold to fill the last spot on the team, should someone decide to not show up. Abyss leaned back in his chair, and began to fill the glasses on the table including his own. Taking a sip of the drink, more to show them that it wasn't some trick, but just a drink he began to speak."

"Rise Lord Vupua. As leader of this team you have to show strength."

Placing the glass back on the table, the sith reached for a small device inside his robe and placed it one the table. WIth the press of a button, a small hologram appeared above it, showing the blueprint of the target. He hadn't yet announced who he was, how he found them and what exactly they were doing here. All by deliberate choice, the team that he had in mind had to be able to work with very limited Intel and vague informations.

"What you see is a research facility on Coruscant, belonging to a small company named Illumination Inc. A few years ago they worked for the Alliance, but they founding was cut short so they resorted to the civilian sector. At least that is the official version. My sources say that they work on of the book projects for a few wealthy private clients, including a espionage application that can silently be installed on most comm systems. It will be your task to get your hands on this application. How you will do it is up to you."

He took another ship from his drink, giving them a moment to let everything sink in. There was far more he could tell them, but he would not. It was a test run, and if they would do well enough they would be rewarded with better Intel on the next mission.

"Now, I know that I have not yet mentioned that part most important for you. Payment. 20000 Credits baseline, depending on your performance maybe more. Any questions? If not there is a ship waiting for you to take you to Coruscant. Their you will meet with a bounty huntress that knows Coruscant in and out. She will outfit you with everything you could need, and you join you as last member of this new team."

[member="Avedia Lacroix"] [member="Ryiah Tenriem"] [member="Rasor"] [member="Lady Agony"]

 

[Darth Ayra]

| [member="Darth Abyss"] | [member="Ryiah Tenriem"] | [member="Rasor"] | [member="Lady Agony"] |

Rising back up to her feet, Darth Vupua stepped backwards and turned her gaze to the holographic projection that Abyss had put up. Listening to the Sith Lord, Vupua folded her arms into her sleeves and remained silent, instead deciding to brood on her anger. This was so unnecessary. He could have asked me to head to Coruscant, and communicate this via hologram, rather than ask me to travel half way across the galaxy to this moon, and then back to the Core. Fool.

 

[Rasor]

Maybe I should have kneeled. Given me the leadership position. The Nightbrother smirked to himself, he was no leader. He didn't have to be one to know that this little mission was going to be risky. Any operation that really only had one objective was. Too much room for something to go wrong. He called it a death wish, @Niclair Claden would call it a good time. But 20,000 credits is 20,000 credits and Rasor was not what most would call wealthy.

"Let me guess. We get caught or most likely die, and nothing traces back to you? Not that we'd be doing much singing with blaster holes." He toned back on his usual sarcastic answer, something about this one put him on edge. He had most everything he needed with him to head straight to the ship, holding up this group didn't seem like a good idea. Based on the sheer presence of the others around him, he'd have to watch himself. His back more than anything else.

[member="Avedia Lacroix"] | [member="Darth Abyss"] | [member="Ryiah Tenriem"] | [member="Lady Agony"]