First Reply Punch-Clock (Character-Introduction)

[Colo Marcheds]

Outside Some Dive-Bar in Mos Eisley, Tatooine

"Ma, I'm fine. Honest!" Colo leaned into the phone, squinting slightly as if it would make him hear better as his mother continued to worriedly squawk about his profession. "All my jobs carry some level of risk Ma, you know that. It-it's just the reality of being in my line of work." A junker of a speeder, a brutal, blocky thing sped by quickly, kicking up dust while it went, a sizeable amount of it flying directly into Marched's face and landing directly on his tan polo shirt. The mercenary wiped off his eyes, annoyed, and idly swept some of the sand off his clothes. He sighed, turning back to the phone. "Look, I don't want you to worry, alright? I... I understand if you are but these jobs I'm taking as of late, they pay better. More money for you, more money for me, right?" Marcheds frowned slighty, raising his eyebrows, his mother saying that she didn't want to see her son for the last time in a body-bag. "D-don't be worried about that! I've been alive long enough to handle myself in a fight. We Marcheds don't go down so easy." A few seconds passed. "I know you're old, and.. I promise I'll come see you. I promise. It's just, Dantooine's a long flight away and money's a bit tight right now. As soon as I get enough credits saved up I'll send you some and I'm coming to see you first thing." A beat, then Ms.Marcheds said something. "I miss dad too. He'd... he'd know what to do about all this, smart old man." Colo smiled sadly at the memory of his dad's counsel. "Love you too, Ma. I'll see you soon." Marcheds put the phone back, exhaling heavily as he walked back into the bar. The bartender, a stocky Rodian, always smoking it seemed, waved to Marcheds as he walked in. "Yo, Marcheds! Someone came in, they said they wanted to see you. Something about a job for ya." Marcheds sat down in a booth nearby. "Alright. Tell em I'm out here."

 

[Akar Rhonvogg]

Tatooine
Tags: Colo Marcheds

Akar hadn't been back in Tatooine in some time, not since his self-inflicted exile from his tribe to persue science, but this was a matter of great importance. Director Rhonvogg was looking to improve the galaxy he lived in, and that meant he needed people. They were a non-violent organization, sure, but they were going to need muscle on occasion. There were those who would see them fail, the likes of cartels and such, and some who hoarded technology that would greatly assist in their research. His people couldn't do that, of course. They needed someone to do the dirty work for them.

Mercs.

So here he was, looking for a Marcheds fellow. Former GADF with a decent track record of success, but not a big name. Under the radar. That was the sort of person he needed. The bartender would inform him of the Merc's location, and and Akar would saunter his way over to the booth where the middle-aged human had sat himself down.

"Mr. Marcheds, I presume?" he asked, giving a respectful tip if his barrette. "Director Akar Rhonvogg, Phoenix Initiative. Pleasure to make your acquaintance. I figure you're a busy fellow, what with the mess that those new Mandalorian Wars have been sturrin' up. I'd wager demand for hired guns are pretty high, so I'll try not to take up too much of your time..."

Akar crossed his arms as he sat down on the other end of the booth.

"I need some unafiliated muscle you see," he explained. "My organization is a peace loving one, but there are certain things that must be done in the name of progress, and a third party mercenary is a good fit for such a thing..."

He paused, tilting his head.

"Ever thought about what you would do if you could change the galaxy?"

 

[Colo Marcheds]

Tags: Akar Rhonvogg
Marcheds leaned back in his seat, the plastic cushioning of the booth serving moreso to stick to his skin and irritate a rash on his lower-back than provide any sort of comfort. "I never really gave that sort of thing much thought." Marcheds said as he scratched an itchy spot above his right eyebrow. "I've never been one for magical thinking, you know? But you seem like a man who's got a plan and credits in his pocket so, uh, gimmie the elevator pitch." Colo leaned in closer, curious to hear what the mysterious alien had to say.

 

[Akar Rhonvogg]

Tatooine
Tags: Colo Marcheds

"Oh, it isn't magical thinking, Mr. Marcheds," Akar shrugged. "I had a... spiritual upbringing, but science... that is a thing that can do Great Work."

The Tusken director rested his hands in the pockets of his coat, an exhale of purified gas escaping from his rebreather mask. Great Work; His ultimate goal. The galaxy needed Great Work, and he was the curator that was going to provide it. One invention at a time. It was the slow burn to shifting the paradigm on it's head.

"I seek to do Great Work," he stated. "Planetary reconstruction, in this instance. The technology to completely re-invent the ecosystem of an entire world with the flip of a switch. The echoes of vongforming on the galaxy show that such a thing is possible, but those Yuuzhan Vong were limited in the scope of what they could create. What if you woke one day and found this dusty world to be a tropical paradise? My organization has already managed to achieve this at the smaller scale, but to jump up in size? We'll need a bit more power..."

Akar reached into his jacket, throwing down a datapad. The image of a cylindrical container appeared, alongside a series of data entries on the compound it contained.

"I need something called isotope-5," Director Rhonvogg continued. "It's a rare compound with the ability to warp gravitational and electromagnetic fields at the microscopic level. It's highly atypical, almost forming near-exclusively in neutron stars, but it can be obtained naturally on Makeb. Of course, that's where the trouble begins. The Hutt's sphere of influence is in shambles, but the presence of the cartel on Makeb still holds firm. Dealing with the devil is not my cup of tea, so I've been forced to resort to alternative methods."

Isotope-5 would change the game. It was not something that he could afford to skip out on if he wanted to upscale his work.

"All we need is one sample to recreate the compound from our orbital station," he concluded. "And a willing individual to recieve said compound, for a handsom paycheck of course."