Phrik Heist (Dev Thread)

[H3xle]

[member="chiasa kritivaas"] [member="davessi linden"]

Sam had sent out a call on the underworld holonet. He wanted to get his hands on some phrik and he had a shipment schedule for the Red Ravens mine on Demonsgate. While he could go after it himself, his parents had instilled in him a sense of community. He didn't need a cargo ship full of phrik, so he would spread the wealth.

Of the responses he had gotten, only one called to him to bring on. He wasn't looking to get into the grimier parts of smuggling quite yet, so he had set up a meet with Davessi Linden.

There was a thing about thieves and scoundrels, when setting up a meet they tend to meet in public places and have a description of something else or someone else who would be there so they could scope them out. It was almost always done in a wide open square to allow for easy escape.

Sam waited in a corner booth with a large cup of coffee in front of him. He had given Davi his actual description and told her exactly where he would be. Leap of faith it might be, but he figured if he was going to invite her onto his ship he'd have to trust her a little bit. It was about five minutes until the meetup time. He took a sip of coffee and leaned back, enjoying the interplay of the coffee bean and the cinnamon flavor in the coffee. This was his favorite place for a cup, so he was indulging a bit.

 

[Velok the Younger]

"I don't think you understand, lady. Demonsgate's almost impossible to reach. We're talking about two months from Kal'Shebbol through the Kathol Outback as far as Exocron, then another two months through the hallucinations of the Kathol Rift to Demonsgate. And that's the absolute best-case, no stopping for gas or shore leave or gettin' lost in the bad routes -- or gettin' jumped by the Qektoth or the Pimbrellan League. Last ship that hit Demonsgate was the Alec Aday, Peregrine-class with a one-point-oh bolted on. It took'em upwards of eight months from Kal'Shebbol to Demonsgate, an' they lost half their crew in the process."

"I'm aware of the difficulties. I've done it before."

"Then why th'feth you looking for a guide?"

"Because it's been a long time, as long as you've been alive. Well, maybe not that long, in that case, but I digress. I'm going to Demonsgate, and you're finding me a guide. With a ship of her or his own, preferably."

The scuzzball barkeep grunted. "Fine, I can maybe hook you up." He raised his voice. "Yo. Boys. Anyone here bound for th'Kathol Outback or Demonsgate?"

Looks could kill; Kash had pulled it off. She settled for a glare.


[member="Sam Turain"]

 

[Davessi Linden]

Davi freely admitted that she was a sucker for cash.

And why not? Cash could get her everything she wanted: spice, booze, guns, starship upgrades, companionship. So while she wasn't averse to the fantasy of great piles of aurodium to swim around in like some speciesist cartoon of a Nemoidian, her cash never lasted long; she was always after the next big score so she could blow through that payout, too. The bigger the payout, the longer she could ride it before she had to look for the next one, and the less choosy she was about the job it was attached to. High price tags had gotten her to agree to some downright ridiculous schemes over the course of her criminal career.

Like robbing the galaxy's most powerful criminal syndicate of one of the galaxy's rarest metals.

Davi had heard a thing or two about Sam Turain in the past, but she'd never met the guy, and she'd immediately gotten suspicious: a full physical description plus a time and place to discuss robbing the kriffing Red Ravens? She had enemies, and she wouldn't be surprised if the whole thing was a sting by some bounty hunter or law enforcement agency. Then again, one didn't talk about robbing the Ravens through a fixer; that information was too juicy to trust to a non-accomplice. And if things did go south, well, she'd probably been through worse. It was the thrills, the almost-deaths, that kept it all interesting.

So she strolled into the cantina Turain had selected, her leatheris jacket unzipped to the collarbone and her Iridonian revolver riding openly on her hip. She recognized her contact immediately; he'd picked a corner booth, his back against a wall so he could watch all potential threats. She approved. He was about her age, fit and rather handsome, with a pair of pistols and a look that said he knew how to use them. Again, she approved. So maybe this was a genuine job. That didn't mean they would pull it off, or even walk away from it in one piece, but it'd be a hell of a ride and a hell of a story.

"Turain?" She asked, swaggering over to his selected booth and leaning on the wall. The flickering lights of the cantina reflected irregularly from the metal piercings in her ears and right eyebrow, and occasionally lit up the metal hand visible beyond the end of her right sleeve. Before she could say more, the barkeep spoke up, asking for a pilot to Demonsgate. Davi's blue-grey eyes narrowed; that was some coincidence, someone in this very bar trying to reach the place they planned to rob. Maybe word had leaked, even without a fixer. Maybe they were in trouble before they even began.

Or maybe Lady Luck was being a cold schutta and having a laugh at Davi's expense.

[member="Sam Turain"] [member="Zhol Kash Dinora"]​

 

[H3xle]

Sam was a lot of things. He was what some would say to be complicated, but he preferred to think of himself as merely more simple than people were prepared to believe. He preferred to do his business fairly openly, sure he used the criminal network that was piggybacked on the stream of the real holonet, but when it came to fixing his jobs in person, he liked to do it himself. It kept the cuts fewer and therefore larger, it let him appraise potential partners for himself and he might have an over inflated sense of security in his skills. He'd yet to be proven wrong in any of his dealings, the proof was in the pudding. He still lived and breathed.

He kept his eye on anyone who walked into the cantina, those who were obviously not his contact he did a threat analysis of in his head and most were watched in the periphery, but otherwise ignored. He noticed the slender, graceful form of [member="Zhol Kash Dinora"] walk in and begin speaking to the bartender, and a few minutes later he saw [member="Davessi Linden"] walk in and almost immediately zero in on him. He had the prior one pegged as a possible threat, the way she walked and handled the bartender despite her rather short, wiry form, so he kept an eye on her. Davi he watched walk up to his table and offered her a genuine smile.

"Turain?"

"Yo. Boys. Anyone here bound for th'Kathol Outback or Demonsgate?"

Sam had opened his mouth to speak, about to reply in the affirmative to Davi that he was Turain, though he preferred to be called Sam. Instead, his face momentarily became an impassive mask and his eyes flitted entirely to Kash and the bartender. Slowly, an eyebrow rose and he considered for a moment. He looked at Davi and rearched his eyebrow, his face losing some of its impassivity.

"That I am, and That..." He indicated Kash and the bartender with a tilt of his head, "Seems entirely to much of a coincidence for my liking. I would very much like for you to join me so we could discuss the...job. Would you be against finding out what that is about first?" Again he indicated Kash and the bartender. He slid over a bit so he wasn't in the direct center corner of the booth, which would allow Davi to take one wall with a view of the whole cantina and Sam could keep the other.

 

[Davessi Linden]

"Good call," Davi calmly replied, her voice low but not a whisper. People listened for whispers, which had a timbre all their own, but low-voiced conversations blended easily into the drone of the cantina past a certain range. Turain scooted over, giving her a place to put her back against, and Davi nodded her thanks as she slid into the booth and took it. Leaning across her body, she offered her left hand to shake. It was unusual, but there was something more authentic about shaking hands with the arm that was still real flesh. Call her old fashioned, but sealing a deal with her metal hand just didn't feel honest. And she was being honest this time.

Honest in her intentions to take part in grand theft, but hey, it's the thought that counts, right?

"I'm Davi," she said, "as you've clearly figured out." She kept her face angled toward him, a coy little smirk playing over her features, but she was watching the bar out of the corner of her eye. If the suspiciously-timed client made any more toward them, well, she'd drawn her Iridonian revolver under the table. One reasons people like her and Turain met in places like this was their casual attitude toward violence. No one would bat an eyelash if one more corpse turned up down here. Davi, for her part, would still sleep like a baby if she had to kill this woman. It was the natural order of lawlessness: she would kill to stay alive, and eventually she would fail.

But hell if it hadn't already been a good run, and she planned to see it get even better.

"So what's the play, handsome?" Davi asked, looking deeply into Turain's face; any casual observer would have seen little more than a pair of lovebirds, their attentions focused entirely on each other. Not that she was being facetious; Turain was good-looking. But even Davi tried not to mix business and pleasure; that led to distractions, and those got you killed. Better not to give a frak about your partners except as far as they were useful, expect them to feel the same way about you, and see the job through that way. If everybody somehow lived through the madness, well, then it wasn't business time any more. "I'll follow your lead."

[member="Sam Turain"] [member="Zhol Kash Dinora"]​

 

[Velok the Younger]

[member="Sam Turain"] [member="Davessi Linden"]

She felt scrutiny, and a hint of suspicion, but not a soul spoke up. Pity. Demonsgate, despite the punishing months-long route through the Outback, was something of a prospecting cause celebre these days. The word was out, the rush was on, and there were claims to stake. Even the last time she'd been there, years ago, the way had been littered with derelict mining ships that had overestimated their food stores and underestimated the Kathol Rift. The Rift's changing hyperroutes and powerful hallucinations hadn't yet deterred streams of treasure hunters looking to strike phrik and make a fortune, even if it meant sacrificing a year of their lives for just one or two trips. She'd call them fools if she hadn't made the trip herself -- but then again, what she'd found had been far more valuable than phrik.

Why they didn't just go to Gromas, she couldn't fathom. Maybe the world's proximity to Mandalorian territory, or the Arceneau-Ovmar monopoly. Maybe Gromas was ostensibly mined out again. Or maybe the Blood Moon was just too mainstream.

She turned and looked over the bar, meeting eyes but not for too long. She spoke loud enough to be heard by more than just the barkeep. "If there's nobody here that's thinking of joining the phrik rush, well, I'm sure there's someone in the next cantina over that'll take a paying passenger as far as the Outback. Even Kal'Shebbol would do."

Most were turning back to their drinks; that was fine. Shot in the dark. This was the third cantina she'd tried.

Feth, I must be the only Sith Lord in the universe that doesn't own a private starship with unlimited fuel and compliant crew and clean telesponder tags and military-grade weapons...

Well, one of these days, maybe.

 

[H3xle]

"First thing, darling." Sam replied as he shook her offered hand. It felt a little awkward to him as most people used their right, but being ambidextrous still made it feel right. "She's likely a force user. Otherwise she'd be armed and not as forward with her...desires." Sam grinned as he said that last word. He was also of the mind that you didn't mix business with pleasure, but that didn't mean leaving out all of the fun until the job was over. "I'll get her attention, whether she comes over or not is her choice. Could be we could make some money on the trip ferrying her to near where we're going."

Sam turned his eyes to [member="zhol kash dinora"] and focused for a moment. He reached out with the force and gently brushed against the Sith Lords presence with his own. He could tell that she was a great deal stronger in the force than he was, but he didn't rely solely on the force. His right hand dropped to his holstered gun on that thigh and he rested his right foot on the chair across from him, giving him a fairly clear shot at Kash if he needed it. He would keep his force presence expanded so she could follow it to their booth if she so chose.

[member="davessi linden"]

 

[Davessi Linden]

Hey, sorry I missed this; the mention didn't work. The best way is to click the "@mention" thing below my username.​

​

Davi grinned; this job might be even more fun than she was expecting. Turain was clearly a scoundrel, which made him exactly her kind of person. Given his manner, she liked him already. On the other hand, she was leery of dealing with a force-user this early on in the gig. In her experience, they tended to throw their power around and just roll over all the little people into doing whatever they wanted. She'd rather be stuck in a room with a Jedi than a Sith because she would be more likely to survive the experience, but she didn't appreciate being told what to do in general, and moralistic Jedi could be as bad as domineering Sith on that front. But frak it, why not make a risky job even riskier if it also got more profitable? That was her life in a nutshell, and she'd stayed alive so far. She was good at the long odds, so bring 'em on.

Davi raised a quizzical eyebrow at Turain as he mentioned getting the woman's attention, then seemed to do nothing. She took in his furrowed brow, eyes narrowed in concentration, and suddenly it made sense: he had the mumbo-jumbo too! She shrugged internally; if it was going to work in her favor, she wasn't going to complain about it. The other woman, though, she was still an unknown. She looked old, frail even, but that made Davi far more nervous; this wasn't a nice area, but she was moving through it without challenge. Lacking the mumbo-jumbo herself, Davi had no way to tell what kind of force-user the woman was; she would have to trust Turain's judgement on that one. But for all her bluster about risk, she really, really hoped he wasn't getting them into a situation that would get them both killed - or worse, enslaved.

"Here we go," she breathed, fingers tightening on her revolver beneath the table.

[member="Sam Turain"] [member="Zhol Kash Dinora"]​

 

[Velok the Younger]

[member="Sam Turain"] [member="Davessi Linden"]

A subtle, awkward presence brushed across her mind, like a toddler tugging on her pant leg. She focused on a pair of spacers, both armed, both ready, both looking her way -- a bulky man's man and a slightly andro blonde. Both wore the kind of smuggler-prospector regalia that made her quasi-tribal clothes look out of place, but she was used to that. She felt others' eyes tracking her as she crossed the cantina; a subtle weave of the Force shifted attention away from her as easily as she'd summoned it with words. The corner booth had room for three, though comfort was subjective. She slipped in beside the blonde, though not close.

"I'm looking for passage to the Kathol Sector or farther" she said, apropos of nothing, "or as close as fifteen thousand will get me. One of you is Force-attuned and aiming for my attention; I'm willing to train if that'll help pay my way." Everyone, everyone wanted Force training these days, to the point where she'd had cause to regret being a Sith Lord. Incessant requests had come from every quarter for her entire adult life -- teach me alchemy. Make me a toy. Make me a worldkiller. Teach me lightning, magic, flight. It never ended. And so, at some point, she'd decided to monetize it to separate the fools from the wealthy fools.

 

[H3xle]

[member="Davessi Linden"] [member="Zhol Kash Dinora"]

Sam raised an eyebrow at Kash as she stated her case. He remained silent for a moment and looked between Davi and Kash a few times. Finally, he leveled his gaze at Kash and did not even twitch when he met her eyes. He might not be as strong in the force as this dark lady, but he'd be damned if he was going to let someone, anyone, push him around on his op or on his ship.

"You want on my ship, We're going to Demonsgate. The price is fifteen thousand, and you don't touch a person among my crew, myself or my friend here with your dark powers. I don't want your training, but I will take your money." He took a deep breath and settled back, his voice softening to his normal timbre. "That taken care of, what do you want with that area of space anyway?"

 

[Davessi Linden]

It wasn't every day an old woman could wig Davi out, so it must've been a special day.

The smuggler scooted over as much as the increasingly cramped booth would allow, her thigh pressing against Turain's, and subtly shifted the aim of her hidden revolver as the potential passenger sat down. She had it pointed for a close-range, high-caliber gutshot: a slow, painful, messy way to die that nothing short of organ replacement could fix. And yet she had the distinct feeling that, even though her honed reflexes could pull the trigger in a fraction of a second, she didn't stand a chance if the woman turned hostile. Davi shuddered as Turain mentioned "dark powers." She couldn't feel auras or whatever, but it was clear to her that the newcomer was powerful, and she'd seen the aftermath of dark powers before. It was never pretty.

Still, Turain's ship, Turain's rules. If he wanted to take her, well, it wasn't Davi's place to say no. She hated being told what to do and how to act, and she had enough empathy to avoid being a hypocrite on that point. Besides, they all had to make a living between the grandiose stunts, and she understood perfectly well how good it was to have an extra fifteen thousand drop into your lap because someone happened to be going the same direction. She was still suspicious, and she wasn't terribly enthused about sharing a cramped hunk of metal in deep space with someone who could probably tear them all apart with mystic mumbo-jumbo, but as long as they all got to the phrik payday she could swallow her worries. She'd done it before.

She didn't really expect the woman to tell Turain her business, but she listened intently all the same.

[member="Sam Turain"] [member="Zhol Kash Dinora"]​

 

[Velok the Younger]

[member="Sam Turain"][member="Davessi Linden"]

"Done," she said, "though you may have cause to regret those terms -- I've been through the Rift before, and I'm an excellent healer. As for my business..."

A shrug about summed it up. Why not say it? "If you've ever heard of the Aing-Tii Monks, I visited them when I was young. I've grown since then, and they want to meet with me over matters of mutual interest." More or less. There was a reckoning due, a price to be paid. Nobody, not even her, could get everything and pay less than what was owed. Not in the long run.

 

[H3xle]

[member="Zhol Kash Dinora"] [member="Davessi Linden"]

Sam nodded with her story and paused.

"I may have spoken a bit harshly. I have had dealings with users whose presence was not even as dark as yours, nor as powerful, and barely come out of it with my skin. The only reason you're sitting here is because I make it a point to not judge one person by the actions of another. All the same, I'd be more at peace were you to not use your powers while aboard Outrider 1" He paused a moment, then nodded. "I have been through the rift before as well. I can drop you off at Kathol if you'd like."

 

[Davessi Linden]

Davi wasn't really sure what to think. She'd heard of the Aing-Tii in spacers' tales, but she'd never actually seen one, let alone spoken with them. The stories were pretty strange: they patrolled the Kathol Rift in organic starships, and were able to teleport objects and see the past and future by using their strange Force powers. They also weren't big fans of slavers, as in they went out of their way to destroy them if they got too close to the Rift. That sat fine with Davi; she was a wild soul, and didn't much care for the thought of people being owned, bought, and sold. She noticed that the old woman still hadn't actually told them her business with the alien monks, but she rather doubted that they'd get any more out of her. Everyone had secrets.

Turain replied, and it seemed that they'd struck a deal, so Davi holstered her gun under the table. This would be interesting.

[member="Zhol Kash Dinora"] [member="Sam Turain"]​

 

[Velok the Younger]

[member="Sam Turain"] [member="Davessi Linden"]

OOC/ Sorry, got sidetracked and forgot. This is you guys' expedition -- feel free to move past me at any point if I'm slow, and just assume that Kash is chilling in a passenger bunk, minding her own business insofar as she's capable of it.

IC/ "The difference between me and those...amateurs you've dealt with, Captain, is that I am, and always have been, a professional. I keep my bargains. You have my word that I won't use my abilities aboard your ship, except if and when you request it, or as necessary for me to contact the Aing-Tii, a process which will not put you, your ship, or your mission in jeopardy. And no, I'm bound for Demonsgate the same as you are." She thought vividly of the long journey to the Rift, and the relief of finally reaching Demonsgate. Old memories, but no less poignant. She'd barely survived.

"I intend to stick to my quarters, whatever they might be, so far as possible. I have a great deal of reading to do. Months' worth, in fact." She rose. "Direct me to your ship, and I'll make myself scarce."