Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos

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Private Red Right Hand

The cyborg found herself in an odd situation. She had been given a mission but needed information. Normally everything would have been provided for her. That wasn't the case this time and she had to go searching for help. Luckily, one of the governments she had gotten close to was the perfect people to do this. However, something stopped her from reaching out to them. Instead, she hunted for a person in the dark alleys and backrooms of cantinas.

Catching the fist of a few people, the former Sith quickly dealt with them and got a lead for a man. Bryn might almost be more machine than woman but that did not mean she was super into hacking and getting into systems. So she went about getting into contact with him through more traditional means.

Leaving him a holocall, she gave him her name, the reason for the call, and a way to contact her back. He did this after a day and she assumed it was because he had busy with other duties and she understood this. All she could do, for now, was wait. When they did actually speak for the first time, she went into greater detail about what she needed and this included just how much she could pay for his services. This is what he seemed most interested in and grudgingly agreed to meet with her.

Making her way through the rain, the cyborg cursed her luck at always seeming to have poor weather at the worst times. She did not wear her suit that hid her face so her hair was quite soaked when she arrived. Shaking the rain out of her head and clothing as she walked in, she had gotten to the cantina a bit early so she could get a reading on the place.

After waiting a few minutes, she found a booth and sat down in it. Ordering herself a drink, she watched the door and waited for Quin to come in.

Quin Wesdun Quin Wesdun
 


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Location: [Classified]​
Equipment: [Classified]​

Greasy rain poured liquid shine over everything, including the military grade parka covering the man in his high perch. Just another shadow in a city full of lights and movement. The rifle in his hands was lost in the darkness. An accurate count of the last hour and a half gave him a general idea of how many bodies were in the building. Other sensors gave him more, but for now...

The whole thing was a little raggedy, but after the last time he'd walked in on a meet and greet he'd almost put some Echani wannabe's teeth through the back of her head. Perhaps he should have. The chrono in the corner of his vision ticked along, along with the running timer beneath it. Spotting a new figure approaching he shifted position just slightly to get a better look. So far, nothing was out of place. Focusing a little his vision zoomed in on the woman. The face matched, at least enough to fool facial recognition from this distance. Seemed this Bryn lady was early. Good.

For the time being he watched. The stragglers kept moving. If she had a tail they didn't stick out. Same for backup. It looked clean. Looks can be deceiving though. Heaving a small sigh, he began taking down his rifle, putting it in a case he covered with a tarp and tucked away on the rooftop. Making his way to the roof access door he slipped inside and checked his weapons and a went through a quick systems diagnostic.

By the time he reached the establishment he felt a little better about his chances. Pushing his way in, he glanced about. Calling the place a dive would have elevated it four notches. There were no overhead lights, instead the place was lit with neon glows from the tables and bar and a few otehr places. The music was loud, the drinks weren't watered down. And the only medical aid in the building was a blaster pistol to put ones self out of their misery.

But it was good as any for business.

It took maybe a second to spot Bryn. Casually he made his way over after shaking off the last of rain from the dark blue sports cap he wore. Sliding into the booth he inclined his chin while resting his hands in his lap, out of sight. "Guess I should have brought an umbrella," he remarked flippantly. "What's goin' on?"

 
So far things had been quiet in the cantina. Most of the customers were more interested in what was in their cups than what was going on around them. Bryn could appreciate this and was rather pleased with the selection of this cantina.

Paying for her drink when it arrived, she took a sip of it as the door opened again. Focusing on the newcomer, it seemed he was searching for somebody. A facial match was made at about the same time he recognized her. His approach was noted and when he sat down, she was silent as he spoke.

"It always rains for me when I'm on a mission."

She said this as she slid a datapad across the table to him. Getting right to the point, there was no objection from the cyborg. If he picked up the datapad, he would find some information about what she needed.

"I'm looking for this man here. He has the tendency to change aliases and his most recently known is Embe Neebak. A good thing is, he's Rodian so unlike you or me, he can't blend in quite as easily."

Tilting her head slightly when she finished her statement, she would give Quin the time he needed to go over to the other information. Beyond the physical description that is. On the datapad were the crimes he had committed and what his capture was worth. If he accepted the job, he would get the payment on top of the Bryn had already promised to pay.

Espionage, trafficking of people, and kidnapping. These were just some of what was included on the list.

"Do you think this is something you can help me with?"

Quin Wesdun Quin Wesdun
 


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Location: [Classified]​
Equipment: [Classified]​
Reaching out, Quin placed one hand on the datapad. A moment later the information on screen began to fill his vision, slurped up by his systems. He noted there was no details included on the client, only that they had a preference for 'alive', but dead was acceptable as well. Quin scratched at the week old stubble along his jaw, mulling it over. He'd been chewed up by the NIO grinder and spat back out as a half human freak. But he supposed he should thank them for saving his life, as much as it was worth. Being an operator meant everything to him at the time. But now, what was he? Nothing more than a washout. Or at least that was how it felt.

Even when he'd gone to re-up but with Intelligence, they'd questioned his loyalty and why he wanted to do the job. Destroyed and half the man he used to be, and he went back for more. And they practically laughed in his face.

Now what was he? A bounty hunter? A merc? A freelance operative?

Idly he reached into his pants pocket and fished out a t'bac stick and lit it. Drawing in it's slow chemical death smoke he let it fill his lungs, one mechanical and filtered to hell and back with it's own independent air storage, and the other... fleshy and factory default. Letting out his breath the smoke followed, directed toward the ceiling.

It was a pretty decent pile of scratch. "What's the catch?" Cynicism was thick in his tone as he watched h er with his one good eye. She was a pretty face, and while that alone warranted lots of attention... Pretty was rarely ever to be trusted.

 
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Unlike him, the enhancements Bryn had weren't related to touch. As Quin reached out and gather the information on the datapad, she just sat there and waited. If he didn't accept, he would still have this in his systems and could potentially reach her quarry before she did. Not that she wanted to make this a competition or race of any kind. She would work with him and together they would catch this man.

Maybe it was a good thing Bryn had never really learned how to feel the emotions of those around her. For a Sith, she was rather unemotional and kept them close. There were times when she did use them for her goals but that wouldn't be right now.

Lifting an eyebrow when he asked what the catch was, she didn't have an answer for him right away.

"I am not sure what you're talking about, Mister Wesdun. This is a simple hunt. Nothing more and nothing less. The information is all included. You know as much about this as I do."

It might not be what he wanted to hear but it all Bryn had to say about it. Everything was true. On the chance there was a catch, she was unaware of it.

Quin Wesdun Quin Wesdun
 


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Location: Name​
Equipment: [Classified]​
As briefings went, the intelligence was lighter than he wanted. But it was better than flying blind. He studied her for a moment with both eyes, and the ear he'd been given. No fluctuation of heartbeat or blood pressure. That was a pretty good indicator. But in these spaces people learned to lie with ease. Still, it was hard to hide certain physiological triggers, even if they could hide their micro expressions. As near he could tell, shew as on the up and up. Mister Johnson could still be screwing them, but that wouldn't be her fault.

He tapped the table twice with the index of his left hand as he thought. "When do we start," he rumbled. "And how do you wanna proceed?"
 
She had been taught to control her systems when she did lie but that wasn't the case this evening. When wanting to work with a new person, she did her best to keep everything above the table. Unless she had no choice but to lie. Not tonight though, all Bryn said was the truth to her knowledge and shared all the information she had on her target.

What she didn't know was Quin did check her vitals. Even if she did, it wouldn't have changed how she treated or reacted to him much. Other than it may be thought of as a violation of her privacy. Did it really matter though? Listening to him, she titled her head to the side slightly as she considered her answer.

"We can start in the morning. Gives us both time to gather up what we need for the mission. Besides, the lead we already have is a day or two old, so we'll just have to pick it up again anyway. He's on the run and maybe he'll slip up."

Saying this, she finished her drink and set a credit chip down to pay for it.

"Meet me at the spaceport, Hanger 29B at 10 am. My ship can carry us both unless you want a different method."

Quin Wesdun Quin Wesdun
 


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Equipment: [Classified]​
He shook his head. "Naw, yours is fine. My Growler doesn't have a lot of bells and whistles. Though I should probably take some time and upgrade it." Rain continued to pour down outside, drumming against the window. A bolt of lightning coursed across the sky in the distance, with the rumble passing through five seconds later. One point six kilometers distant, give or take a few meters. Checking his chrono ticking away in the corner of his vision he noted the time. "If we're that far behind... I can be ready to dust off as soon as I get my gear." Always be ready to move or bug out in thirty minutes or less. Most of the time, he could do it in thirty seconds or less. No ties, nothing that wasn't disposable, for the most part.

Looking at the image of their mark, he scratched at the stubble along his jawline. A few angles came to mind for reacquiring the Rodian. They could be squirrely. Bounty hunting was a good chunk of business for their people. This one looked like he'd be all sorts of trouble. "But a delay might give me some time to put out some feelers of my own. How's your ship's electronic warfare package?"

 
The cyborg nodded when Quin said her ship would be fine. Tipping her head just slightly when he mentioned he didn't have much in terms of bells and whistles. Then again, hers might not either but it did offer a bit of room that his might not. Telling him what kind she had should allow him to know what it offered for packages. Hopefully, it helped and they could get to work before she had suggested.

If he could be ready in the next half an hour, they could meet at her ship and get to work right away. Not that she minded waiting the night. It was what she had said. In the end, it did not really matter. Their target had a day or two start on them.

On the chance, he did decide to start in the morning, they could both investigate where Embe might have gone. There was even the chance he could have changed the name he was using and it would take them even longer to find his trail again.

"If my ship's gear isn't good enough, I'm sure I can arrange to get something better."

Hearing the thunder did not bother her at all and she waited patiently for his answer.

Quin Wesdun Quin Wesdun
 


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Equipment: [Classified]​
"Either way should be fine," he said with a small nod. "And we can always improvise." Whether the ship was in great condition or not was another matter entirely. But communications and electronics gear had been his specialty when he was in the military. He still had the engineering chops, and he was probably better now than he was back then. He'd certainly had to be more creative, since he didn't exactly have logistics and requisition assistance anymore.​
"I'll put some feelers out then. Do you have a holonet relay on your ship?" That would allow them to communicate almost anywhere in the known galaxy, but not every small ship carried one. And making a real-time holo call could get expensive rather quickly. Not everybody made use of t hem.​

 
Nodding, it appeared they would be meeting up the next morning. This would give each of them a little extra time to send feelers out for information and allow her to make room on her ship for him. Not that was going to be any real issue. It wasn't like Bryn had guests very often and the way she had been raised after getting kidnapped was like that of a soldier. Have only what you needed and what could be gathered up in just a few minutes.

"Yes, I have a relay though it doesn't get much use these days."

In fact, she didn't even remember the last time. Either way, she would make sure it was in working order and that would be enough for her. Dust off a few things and make sure he had bedding.

Pulling her hood up to cover her head, she nodded to Quin and had already provided him with the location of her ship.

"I will see you in the morning."

With hardly a second glance at him, the cyborg disappeared into the rainy night.

Quin Wesdun Quin Wesdun
 


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Qiun watched her slip out of the booth, pull up the hood, then head out into the darkness again. After a moment he pulled out a t'bac stick and lit it. Slipping out of the booth he followed a moment later. Outside he let out a puff of acrid smoke. Taking another long drag made the cherry glow in the neon dark. "The kriff are you gettin' yourself into, Wesdun," he muttered out the side of his mouth, letting out a few smaller puffs of smoke.

Click. The sound of a slug thrower cocking next to his right ear crackled across his senses. Turing his head slightly, he spotted a wiry thin man. Teenager, really, with patchy facial hair, covered in sores, ragged clothing, hands shaking. Clearly coming down off of some kind of narcotic. "Gimmedacreds, maaaan!" The words came rapid-fire through gritted teeth and strained throat, so much so they almost sounded like something besides Basic.

"What," Quin asked, barely comprehending what was said.
"Credits maaaan, gimme ya credits or it's ya life."

"Alright."​
"Hurry the frell up!"​
With one hand he reached back for his credit chits. The addict's eyes followed his hand. Instantly, Quin gave a h ard puff of his mouth and lips, sending the burning t'bac stick spinning into the man's face, causing him to turn away and flinch. Quin's left hand snapped around, catching the gun hand at the wrist and deflecting it off line. A bright flash of angry red filled the air as an angry scarlet blaster bolt shot past his right ear into the night sky. Quin stepped into him and counter-clockwise with his right, twisting with his left hand at the wrist. His right hand came up and caught just under the chin at the throat, hard. Under the combined forces, the druggie flipped backward and to the outside in a neat throw, landing on his neck and then coming to rest on his side with a groan. In one motion, Quin plucked the blaster from his nerveless fingers and jammed the barrel into the addict's mouth far enough to gag him for a moment.

"So, here's what we're gonna do. You know Spyder? Nod if you understand." Came a frantic little nod as the creep struggled with Quin's metal-and-flesh weight on top of him. "I'll give you a hundred credits to deliver a message. Payable on completion of the job. Then you can get kriffed out of your gourd all you want. Copy?" Another frantic nod as he tried to exclaim something unintelligible around the gun barrel in his mouth.

Reaching back, he pulled out a 100 credit chit, but it was prepaid and codelocked. "What's your name?" He removed the gun barrel.
"Juice. I'll--" The gun barrel went back into his mouth, scraping against teeth.
"So Juice, this is the credits. You're gonna go to Spyder and tell him I'll owe him a favor. I need him to get int ouch and find somebody for me." After a second Juice recognized it was time to nod again and did.

Getting up, Quin field stripped the slugthrower, dropping the pieces in the greasy rain water. "You've got an hour. Tell 'im Quin sent you. Or I come find you." Turning, he walked away, disappearing into the dark in a few seconds while Juice yelled a string of curses and invective. Quin just smiled and shook his head. Maybe he wasted a hundo in credits. Maybe he didn't. The little punk would think twice about trying to rob some rando at gunpoint. Or maybe he wouldn't. He probably had a life expectancy of a couple years at best.

Time to get to work.

 

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