Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos

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Private Of Repair and Reward

Sun shone in though the window, his hat shielding his eyes from the glare. Safe in Corellia with beer in hand, Crosten relaxed in comfort alone at his place within the bar. He’d been waiting a few hours for the repairs on his ship to be complete; costly as they were, the recent run had brought him enough money to pay for it and then some. Not that it had been an easy task, nor the journey without peril. A pursuit and near interception had resulted in the loss of one of the ships engines, but quick thinking and deft manoeuvres by the experienced pilot preserved the valued cargo.

He’d need a new transponder code too; but that was another service he could pay for at a nominal cost.

His ship was in good hands; the very best, as far as he was concerned. It was a repair shop he’d known for a long time; the a family run business his longtime menor and father figure, Jator, was a longtime patron of. And for good reason; they did good work and asked no questions. Crosten couldn’t say he knew them well; that was a dangerous thing to say in trades such as theirs. Trust and approval however was present in spades.

Now, at the end of a long journey with a mug of dwindling beer, the smuggler was at ease. A slow turn of his head was the most motion the man had given in moments, and on checking the clock on the wall for the time, he decided the wait was long enough. A tilt back of his beer emptied the contents down his throat with a gulp.

With payment made and wait over, Crosten prepared to depart. It was time; and the ship should be ready by now. While the bar was comfort, the ship was home.

Seconds away from his last beer, he was already planning his next in the lounge of his freighter.

Jax Thio Jax Thio
 
YOU CAN'T KILL ME!

COD-Black-Ops-Cold-War-Frank-Woods.jpg

Location: Corellia​
Corellia, the place where starships and ace pilots came from. It was also a place of smuggling, corruption and plenty of targets just begging to be killed. In other words a perfect haven for Bounty Hunters. Nichos Velt leaned against the table raising his hand up for some more Beer, the Duros bartender handed Nichos a glass of beer froth oozing out from the edges. Slapping some credits, he began guzzling down the alcoholic beverage looking around the place. It was mostly quiet filled with young Smugglers with egos bigger than the regular cargo they carry. Most of these cocky frackers will end up behind bars or killed by the Hutts who doesn't tolerate one too many missed smuggling operations. There were some contracts to take on the planet as always. With fierce competition on the planet, businessmen and smuggler alike would look at Bounty Hunters shake down people who don't honor their contracts.​
When in doubt, one can never bet against Corellia for handing out bounties like it was treats on Life Day all one needs is the right connections. Nichos downed the last of his Beer and from the corner of his eye, he saw a familiar face. "You gotta be shitting me?!" The Bounty Hunter practically leapt from his stool seeing a familiar friend drinking his beer. "Is that you Crosten Feyn Crosten Feyn ?! The frack you doing here in a dump like this?! It's been 8 years since we've last seen each other!"​
A smile formed on Nichos' face as he approached Crosten. "The hell you've up to these years?!" he chuckled slapping him on the back.​
Red Menace
 
"You gotta be shitting me?!"

His head perked up at the words; a cue for attention if Crosten ever heard one. But he couldn't be immediately sure if it was good or bad. In true fashion he'd prepare for the latter while hoping for the former. Oh, he knew that voice, but he couldn't pinpoint from exactly where. Thankfully, he wouldn't have to, as the leap Nicholas took from his seat caught his immediate eye. Oh no, there was no trouble, quite the opposite; and Crosten's precautious tension melted away in an instant as he pushes his chair back and stood tall with a joyous smile at the unexpected sight of his old friend.

His head perked up at the words; a cue for attention if Crosten ever heard one. But he couldn't be immediately sure if it was good or bad. In true fashion he'd prepare for the latter while hoping for the former.

"Is that you Crosten Feyn Crosten Feyn ?! The frack you doing here in a dump like this?! It's been 8 years since we've last seen each other!"

"None other than, Nichos! Damn do the years fly by." he responded with astonishment, sporting a touch more wrinkles and grey since they last saw one another.

"The worthwhile thing to do while I'm waiting down here - and I see you've got the same idea!" he added jovially, raising his half-filled glass of beer to the occasion, sending the amber contents sloshing around in the stein.

"The ship's off for repairs; they should be about done now but I got time for another beer with ya - how could I not! Bumping into you is special occasion enough. And I'm up to what I've always been up to: trading valued goods to those with enough money to prove they truly need 'em" he let out a chuckle with his hand on his shoulder, his beer still sloshing in his other hand.

"Ah, have a seat and catch up. So what have you been up to? Same old business that brought you to a place like this?" he gestured to the seat, even pulling it out for his friend. He'd be late to grab the ship, but it was a welcome delay.
 
YOU CAN'T KILL ME!

COD-Black-Ops-Cold-War-Frank-Woods.jpg

Location: Corellia​
Nichos chuckled leaning against the table examining his old friend. "Damn the years haven't been kind to Crosten!" he said taking the Smuggler's drinking and guzzling it down. "But I managed to maintain my good looks! Ladies still gravitate towards me as though I'm Zeltron unleashing hormones into their system. When you're blessed with charm and rugged handsomeness, you can't help but feel a little cocky!"​
In truth, Nichos had to buy prostitutes or escorts with the credits he earned as a Bounty Hunter. It was rather embarrassing but it's not like Crosten needed to know that information. "Getting your ship repaired eh?" Nichos asked signaling to the Duros for another drink. "A Smuggler without a ship is like a Bird without wings. Better hope those greedy asshats at Corellia don't try to steal it from under ya! There's been reports of that recently!"​
The Bounty Hunter cracked his neck and sighed. "I've been traveling around the Galaxy lately," Nichos answered. "Got kicked out from UNICOM the CIS military and became a Bounty Hunter. Heard of a good contract from nobles gonna see If I can grab one!"​
The Duros slid the Beer towards Nichos as he drank with gusto. "What about you?" he asked. "How's the life of a Smuggler? Seen new things? Been with some hot babes?"​
 
A hearty laugh escaped his mouth at the pointed ribbing from his old friend and comrade. Oh, he’d known the years were movin’ on by. If anything, Jator’s passing made his awareness of the passing years all to real; he only held so many more years, he knew. It was only existential musing and awareness, death was no concern of his. By all accounts he could’ve died a hundred times by now, doing the dangerous work he did; nothing claimed his life yet. Why concern oneself with the end, when the journey is here and now to enjoy?

“I should hope so; you sure can’t afford to lose any more!” He followed up the retort with booze-fueled chuckle, soon raising the stein back to his lips for another swig.

“Oh, you’re telling me! I’d be beside myself without the thing.” He added, before responding to his concern with another chuckle. “Oh, she’s in good hands. I’d never leave my baby with someone I couldn’t trust” he added. Which largely narrowed things down, given the limited people Crosten handed that out to. He trusted himself and had trusted Jator. Aside from the repair crew he knew well, few others made the list.

“Kicked out? Damn, Nichos! Whatd’ya do to warrant that?” he asked in his lighthearted tone. Maybe he’d answer and maybe he wouldn’t. Crosten was far to seasoned to pry beyond that.

“Sounds like you’re in a good backup career though. And freedom! I mean look at it like this; you can do whatever you damn well want now. None of that shoe-shining bull and following orders” he continued; military life never really held any appeal to him. If his freighter was his wings; freedom was his fuel.

"Well wouldn't you know it, I just made it back from a lucrative trading trip" he responded, taking another swig.

"Bedding women, drinking booze, gambling credits. Ah, you know. Living!" He added with a grin.

"So how long y'been out for? I wanna hear how you've been doing with yer newfound independence." Crosten asked, eased back in his seat amongst the banter of his long unseen friend.
 
YOU CAN'T KILL ME!

COD-Black-Ops-Cold-War-Frank-Woods.jpg

Location: Corellia
A pang of dread went through Nichos body, he really shouldn't have said anything regarding to the fact that he got kicked out of UNICOM. It was just bad memories that he didn't want to dig up again. Even though the CIS military and Nichos are on good terms well at least on the fact that he's been taking on illegal missions for them and the CIS didn't want to lose a valuable asset, he was a little miffed on how they had to sacrifice him in order to maintain good PR when Nichos was acting like any other soldier would during times of war. "Bah," Nichos slowly shook his head taking a sip of his beer. "You know how it is, everything I do is illegal when you work with spooks you're bound to be used as a pawn. The moment I got careless and lost my shit they fed me to the dogs."​
The Bounty Hunter stared at his beverage, it was fracking war but some people get too into it submitting to their base instincts. Yeah Nichos was a piece of work but for frack's sake at least when he was brutal, it was towards the enemy and he always made sure that the innocents weren't harmed during battle. Some soldiers just couldn't careless about war crimes and what not, or they just choose to take the nuclear option when there was clearly better ones available and end up damning every one to a grisly death. Yet Nichos was the one punished and the perpetrators get their names cleared. He still had some pride for the Confederates, but damn the way they did them dirty was rather Galactic Alliance of them. "Yeah at least with being a Bounty Hunter." he continued. "I get full reign in what I can do, true freedom not a fracking illusion like the CIS was selling us."​
Well the events that caused Nichos to be kicked out of UNICOM was his fault and the CIS had no choice but it still felt dirty. Nichos took another sip of beer and smiled raising his glass. "Besides," he added. "I can afford to lose more, I'm a damn onion! Peel a layer off and you see a fresh faced motherfracker!"​
Of course Crosten was doing well, he was talented Smuggler with an ugly yet speedy Starship and the fact that he was crack shot hardly anyone could touch him. "Been hitting it for 8 years," he answered. "Still looking for work though life of a Bounty Hunter!"​
Finishing off his drink, Nichos wiped the beer off his mouth with his wrist and smiled. "How much longer until you get your ship back? he asked.​
 
His eyebrow cocked slightly at his response, sensing that he was inquiring about the exact sort of situation he had been concerned about. He too took a sip of his beverage, looking over the glass as Nichos continued to deliver his story after all to the receptive ears of his old friend. He could simply respond with a nod; it was a concern he held all to well. That’s the problems with these sort of organizations – they’re loyal; until you’re no longer useful. He didn’t much care for their perceived way of placing conditions and checks on comradeship. And hell; Crosten had done messed up plenty himself. It’s the way of things; screwing up and learning better.

He had no idea what the kid did, and his silence told him he didn’t need to. With another swig of his beer he listened to his old friend’s next words and thumped the the beverage down atop the table in a boisterous gesture of agreement.

“Yeah! You ain’t got that yoke no more, y’can go where you please and when you want.” He spoke with a grin. It was the way of life; the way of his life. And he neither knew of any other way, nor did he care to learn.

“Hah! You’re a resilient one, you got that right. Didn’t doubt ya when you signed up; and lemme tell ya, that job takes a kind of discipline I just plain ain’t got. You’ll do fine. Hell, you’ll do great now.” He added. It was truth, Nichos was one tough determined bastard. Not surprising the guy found a career as a bounty hunter; woe be to anyone he’d have to track down. And CIS training to boot; he heard the CIS doesn’t mess around, and knew full well Nichos didn’t either.

“That’s a good long while!” he replied, downing most of the remainder of his beer.

“Hell, thing should be ready 5 minutes ago. Why don’t you come join me in the hold for another cold one, yeah?” he shot the question to his friend with a grin before downing the rest of his beer and thumping the empty stein on the table.
 
YOU CAN'T KILL ME!

COD-Black-Ops-Cold-War-Frank-Woods.jpg

Location: Corellia​
"Well at least I got my freedom," Nichos shrugged, the CIS was originally about being independent and stop being some cosmic plaything while the Galactic Alliance and the other factions wage war. It was quite odd that Crosten was giving Nichos praise and encouragement Nichos raised an eyebrow in response. He remembered Crosten being different when he first met him during the Mandalorian Wars maybe Nichos' memory was being faulty or maybe it was the fact that he wasn't used to getting this encouragement. The last time that heard something like that was the Nun: Luna the woman who raised Nichos at the orphanage.​
"Right," he said getting up and stretching. "Let's see this ship of yours I'm pretty sure it's the same hunk of junk from 8 years ago!"​
 
Maybe it was the beer, maybe it was time that softened his attitude but he didn’t seem to find the need to be as harsh with the man as when he had been younger; at least in the moment. Though his age didn’t show as much as Crosten’s, Nichos was an older man now, and maybe didn’t need Crosten’s occasional blunt scolding as most. Mostly though, his unusually good mood could be chalked up to an unusually good payday; if there was ever a time to catch him, Nicholas had timed it well.

“Heh, Yeah, that’s her alright” he snorted back, before he and Nichos headed out on the brief walk back towards the repair shop. A short travel from the bar down a main thoroughfare took them most of the way before they ducked down a side route and down a nondescript stairwell. A deafening blast would shake the structures around them and cause Crosten to give as startled pause before uttering out in shock: “What the - what was that?”

Continuing on quickly though the stairs and hall, he was at a near run until he made it to the repair shop, smoke wafting out while a mechanic paced about outside with his hands on his head. With a look towards the shop’s interior, Crosten’s normally stoic expression turned to one of shock and loss as he saw what remained of his inherited freighter, a scorched heap that looked like it had freshly lost a battle. Soon he too took to placing his hands on his head, keeping them atop his hat as he paced rapidly back and forth before taking a deep breath to finally ask his loud question.

“THE HELL HAPPENED?!”
 
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YOU CAN'T KILL ME!

COD-Black-Ops-Cold-War-Frank-Woods.jpg

Location: Corellia​
The inside of a Smuggler's freighter can be an adventure, because of nature of their work Smulggers tend to constantly customize their ships often keeping up with the latest tech. Everyone knows that today's new tech could be on their way to the scrap heap tomorrow so Smugglers needed to upgrade in order to evade authorities. What was interesting and unsurprising to Nichos was that the best Starship tech came from ex-smugglers, ideas came from necessity and Smugglers needed the best of the best.​
"So can't wait to see it," Nichos laughed as they headed towards the hangar. "I'm pretty sure it's still a rusted sack of bolts barely held together by superglue! If you've seen my ship, it's always in pristine condition!"​
Sadly it's also out of commission thanks to the Imps and the Asteroid field.​
As they neared Crosten's spot, Nichos smelled smoke coming from it follow by black smoke. Frowning, the Bounty Hunter drew Red Menace following Crosten towards the fire. "Shit," Nichos saw a smoldering ruin that was once a ship strewn across the area with an engineer as bewildered as the two of them. While Crosten questioned the Engineer, Nichos spotted about five men cladded in black armor and wielding Blaster Rifles "There you are!" One of the men said firing at the three of them. "Time to die!"​
"Looks like you got your answer!" Nichos yelled at Crosten retreating behind a box returning fire.​
 
He looked around, desperate for any clue that might make sense of the situation before him. Did the techs pull this? ...Naw. The panicky lot hardly seemed had a grasp on the situation, running about in confusion. If they were behind this, they were feigning their innocence well; and that’s certainly not the sort of social misdirection your typical tech tends to be capable of.

But he heard the shout and saw the blaster fire.

Confused about the threat or where it was, Crosten did what came naturally and moved his shooting hand to the holster of his blaster. On edge, he was still and ready, awaiting the slightest clue that danger would rear it’s head. It wouldn’t take long to receive it.

Before the men could even deliver their threat, he had thrown himself to the ground against the nearest cover he could find; a crate filled with metal tools, but crafted from surplus wood. Well, it would be effective cover one time at least. Better it than nothing, he knew as he fired two shots in the direction of the threat; prioritizing speed of fire over accuracy. They were already half a leg up on him, and he wasn’t about to allow them to get a full one.

“Goddamn...surprises just keep coming today” Crosten quipped, before an errant shot tore into the crate he used as cover and sent the metal tools spilling onto the shop floor with a chaotic clatter.

Nichos Velt Nichos Velt
 
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YOU CAN'T KILL ME!

COD-Black-Ops-Cold-War-Frank-Woods.jpg

Location: Hangar Bay, Corellia​
"Friends of yours?"​
A merc's head got melted from Nichos' blaster bolt the sizzling sound was heard over the man's gargle as he fell knees first onto the floor. It was tough to identify the assailants but first impressions Nichos guessed that they were rivals of some kind. Likely sent by a client whom Crosten crossed or didn't bring enough of the goods to satisfy them. The Bounty Hunter concluded that it was unlikely considering how talented of a smuggler he was but best not to make assumptions in the heat of battle. Nichos exited out of cover firing a wrist rocket towards a hapless merc who made a mistake of overextending.​
"Shit!" was the young man's last words before being reduced to a bloody and burnt paste. "Watch that wrist rocket!" Nichos yelled switching Red Menace to full auto. The three remaining merc's rained fire on the now exposed Nichos and he was hit on the shoulder but remained standing unharmed and then had multiple shots harmlessly bounce off his torso.​
"Beshkar motherfrackers!" Nichos said carefully sidestepping the metal polls to return fire. "Let's pick these bastards off Crosten!" he yelled at his friend.​
 
"You know I make the best of friends with folks I've never met." came his response. The smuggler was already on his feet when Nichos yelled out his warning. Spotting the nearest cover in the form of another pillar, he made his way to it hastily while his Nichos drew the fire and attention of their newly made friends. He well had no idea, there was a fair list of folks who might try such a thing. Inhering Jator's ship well meant inheriting his enemies too, and the ship's ultimate fate.

Yeah, damned if he knew and he had more pressing immediate problems. Questions are for later; shooting's for now.

Crosten took a standing position with his shoulder against the pillar before he stretched out his arm with blaster in his hand, letting loose a couple of blasts at the nearest of the three Nichos was busy entertaining. The first blast caused nothing but shock to the mercenary; but the second shot landed square into his neck and punched a hole where his armour was thinnest. As he fell lifeless to the ground, further shots tore into the elbow of the farthest merc, causing his weapon to drop from the now useless limb. After that, Crosten figured he had exposed himself long enough and returned to his position of cover. He may be a determined, but he wasn't senseless.

Turns out he ducked back behind the pillar just in time, as a blaster shot tore through the concrete and left a layer of dust on the brim of his hat. Didn't faze him. He was too focused on what he was gonna do the poor bastards that destroyed his beloved ship once he found them.

Nichos Velt Nichos Velt
 
YOU CAN'T KILL ME!

COD-Black-Ops-Cold-War-Frank-Woods.jpg

Location: Hangar Bay​
While Nichos preferred to fight up close and personal enjoying the thrill of blaster bolts whizzing over his head barely touching him as he unloaded a barrage of plasma on to their hapless bodies. Crosten was more of a strategist, someone who rather plan out their fights not that Nichos didn't mind as he did it at times but nothing beats feeling the rush when you charge in guns blazing helps that you have impenetrable armor. Crosten shot at one of the mercs his body immediately crumpled on the floor while the second merc got his arm blown off causing him to scream. "Damn Crosten!" Nichos chuckled driving his Vibroknife through the neck of the one armed soldier. Blood poured from his wound and trickled down to Nichos' gloved hand. "How powerful is your fracking Pistol?!"​
The last merc stepped back realizing that he was overmatched. "Frack this!" he yelled beginning to sprint out of the hangar bay. "They're not paying me enough for this shit!"​
"Hey!" raising his arm, a silver cable shot through Nichos' wrist reaching the retreating merc and wrapping around his waist. The merc dropped his weapon and gasped struggling furiously to escape his binds. It proved fruitless as the man was being pulled closer to both Nichos and Crosten. "Why don't you stay a bit!" Nichos smiled yanking on the cable dragging his victim closer until his head was on Nichos' boot.​
"So," Nichos smirked wiping the blood off his vibroblade bayonet and deliberately splattering some on the merc's face. "Why don't you start talking starting with who frack hired you to destroy my friend's ship?"​
 
"DL-44 ; most powerful blaster in the galaxy." He quipped, If there was a heavy blaster that packed a harder punch, he'd yet to find it. He'd trust nothing else; if he was gonna shoot something, he wanted it to go down. As long as he landed his shots, his targets did exactly as he desired.

There remained but one more to be taken down and after taking his moment behind cover, he leaned out over the other side of the pillar that had shielded him from return blaster fire. An aimed shot was ready to take this last merc down, but Nichos beat him to the punch. And way better that he did too, the way Crosten was he'd be ready to shoot the whole lot of them until his blaster overheated. That the guy got taken alive was for the best; you can't question the dead.

As he approached, he couldn't help but admire his handiwork; one blast punched a hole clear through the neck padding of one merc, the other had his arm torn up at the elbow with forearm and upper arm plates intact; and a grisly blood pouring from the arm within it. Well placed shots at the armor's weakest point; his aim hadn't failed him yet.

"Yeah pal, how 'bout you introduce yourself?" He leered down at the pinned merc with a grizzled sneer, his blaster tucked back in the holster.

"So who the hell are ya?"

"You know damn well; go to hell Jator-"

"That ain't me; and that ain't a name you oughta be using like that-"

The merc with the poor choice of words didn't get a chance to complete his sentence, and instead of words a painful thump would follow as Crosten gave the man a solid kick to the jaw.

"Now who the hell sent you?"

"Go and ask-"


"He's dead. And so are you; you god damned waffling rat faced son-of-a-queen if you don't start speaking now." The merc took a look to the both of them, they guy was already well frightened and intimidated but now he was aware. Spitting blood from his mouth, he'd finally give Crosten his answer.

"Thalik...man you don't know Thalik? Been living under a rock man? How long've you been here? Crosten heard the words, and he didn't like them

Hey! HEY! Look man I'm giving you your info okay just calm down..."
he pleaded, winning more patience as his prize

"I just inherited this squabble, I ain't one of his I just got hired. But he and you...Well he and Jator, they got old beef. I don't know what. It ain't my place to ask. But if you wanna know who's behind this that's where to look."

"Yeah, looks like I just inherited this mess too..." came Crosten's retort.

Nichos Velt Nichos Velt
 
YOU CAN'T KILL ME!

COD-Black-Ops-Cold-War-Frank-Woods.jpg

Location: Hangar Bay
Nichos remained silent while Crosten interrogated the tied up merc, if there was one thing that Nichos learned throughout his life is when to be silent. A common cause of death in this galaxy was when somebody blabs too much and to the wrong person. Of course Nichos often exaggerates his exploits even payed young kid some credits to spread word of his exploit as a Bounty Hunter but there were times to talk and times to shut the frack up and you tend to learn more if you use your ears instead of your mouth. So far all this shit that this merc is saying is vague and probably needs a bit more motivation to spit out what he knows.​
"This Thalik....." Nichos bent down next to bloodied and battered merc. "You're gonna lead us to him and you're gonna divulge more info about this fracking rivalry that caused them to blow up my friend's starship."​
The Bounty Hunter shook his head. "No offense Crosten," he said. "But what you interrogated like an amateur now if you really wanna put the squeeze on him. Just say the word, my UNICOM training won't be for nothing after all!"​
 
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“I told you I’m just a hired goon! You think I know anything special? Thalik’s got this speakeasy on the south corner between 11th and 12th quadrant. You can’t miss it man, it’s literally got his name in big bright flashing letters. I ain’t messing with you, that’s the place, ain’t it? Ain’t it??” he stammered out in his own defence, turning his head to eye the engineers who looked absolutely shocked at the scene. But the all slowly nodded their heads with soft “yeah, yeahs” uttered after a brief and awkward silence.

Crosten turned to Nichos as he spoke, though his poker face didn't really convey approval nor disapproval. Crosten had to admit, they at least go the location out of the guy. Not terribly valuable intel but more than he got outta the merc. Before he could say much in response however, the motormouth merc continued on.

“And they see me? They’ll be fine. Hell they don’t know you, so you know what? If they see you, you’ll probably be fine - until you start stuff. But if they see me with you? Dank ferrik, we’ll get shot the hell up! You may as well shoot me here, walking in with you two is suicide.

Now there ain’t nothin’ else-”


It made sense, and while it wasn't really information, it was certainly something the seasoned smuggler could act on.

“Take off that goddamn armour." Crosten gruffly interrupted the merc

"Give it here.”

“What, you think they'll let you inside with that on - Oh hell no. You already cost me my pay and buddies, y-” he spoke before a reply from Crosten’s boot gave his sentence an abrupt end.

Nichos Velt Nichos Velt
 
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YOU CAN'T KILL ME!

COD-Black-Ops-Cold-War-Frank-Woods.jpg

Location: Hangar Bay, Corellia​
Can't say that Nichos was surprised when the merc told them that they would welcome them with open arms. He wasn't surprised when Crosten wanted him to hand over his armor. While the merc did so, Nichos chuckled seeing him in his tighty whites. "Looks like you ain't packing much down south," he laughed much to the merc's embarrassment. When Crosten knocked out the merc, Nichos placed Red Menace in his holster. "So let me guess," Nichos said taking off his helmet. "You're gonna go in disguise and try to see the man who destroyed your ship?"​
Seemed like a sound plan.​
 
Crosten let out a chuckle at Nichos' taunting, finger on his blaster all the while. Shooting the guy was mighty tempting once that armour was off; were they anywhere else he just might've done so. They'd already made an awful mess, and just because he and Nichos were done with the merc didn't mean he'd outlived his purpose.

"So what, you done? Can I go?"

"Naw, you make yourself useful and clean the place up."

"You convinced us to let you live; you better convince them too." Crosten quipped, with a tilt of his head backwards in gesture at the establishment's owner, accompanied by a pair of intimidating men armed with blaster rifles. This wasn't the sort of outfit that would call for police over anything; something else Crosten liked about the place. This poor sod would have to earn his right to remain alive, but that was the poor merc's own personal problem. Crosten was entirely concerned about resolving his own.

Turning to his companion, he answered Nichos with a nod.

"Like he said, isn'it? With this armour on, they'll let me right through. You too, if we can cobble together a suit from the two we just destroyed." Crosten spoke as he began to don his armour, while a pair of coveralls thrown towards the face of the merc nearly knocked the man over before he too began to dress.

"If you'd join me. Well, now that the repair's out of the question I even got a refund to creds to share with ya." he added.

"I could really use a second gunman, and you're just the guy." he spoke. Ex CIS would be a valubale partner to have; but most of all they needed to move now. Bless his luck that Nichos was already here, the one silver lining in this whole turn of events.
 

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