Private The Informant

[Ronhar Tane]

CAPTAIN RONHAR TANE, TK-3301
CORROX CENTRAL
MAHPOREEM

When Ronhar had first viewed the holotransmission, he could scarcely believe what he was looking at.

A lone Amaran, bruised, bloodied, and badly burned, had contacted Ronhar and the Mahporeem Imperial Remnant with an offer that was quite simply too good to pass up on. They had recently participated in the Battle of Genarius, and through a mixture of cunning, skill, and sheer luck, had managed to acquire plans for a particularly powerful piece of engine technology, something that the Imperial Remnant was greatly interested in getting their hands on. To be sure, the Imperial Remnant did have access to engine technology courtesy of their partnership the N&Z Umbrella Corporation, but the more designs that they could produce themselves, the better it would be for Mahporeem.

Still, Ronhar was shocked by the condition of the Amaran, who he happened to already know from a previous meeting. The Amaran's name was Zefgahld Qojex , and she happened to work for the Imperial Remnant and Imperial Confederation as an independent contractor, taking on jobs and mission that both factions either couldn't or wouldn't take on for themselves. This last job must have been particularly rough, as Zefghald was covered in scrapes and scratches. One of her eyes was completely swollen shut, and a worrying amount of fur had seemingly been removed from her body. Still, she appeared to be in rather high spirits, probably because of the perceived payday that she would be receiving from the Imperial Remnant.

Of course, if she thought that the Imperial Remnant would just hand over its hard earned credits, than she had another thing coming. While her service to the Confederation was greatly appreciated and an important part of the Imperial efforts to bring peace to the galaxy, she was still at the end of the day little better than a bounty hunter, and if she didn't already know her place, she would soon enough.

That was why Ronhar had ordered her to travel to Mahporeem to begin negotiations for the technology. He hadn't asked her, nor had he made a request-he had given an order, and he expected her to follow it to the letter.

As he waited her arrival outside of Landing Pad Orenth, Ronhar couldn't help but wonder when she'd actually arrive. Dozens of Junktroopers and ARC Troopers stood at attention around the platform, providing both security for the meeting and a show of force to intimidate Zefgahld into more easily accepting the Imperial Remnant's offer. Not that Ronhar thought he really needed all this extra muscle, but it never hurt to be overprepared. Even if she were being pursued by half the galaxy, the Imperial Remnant would be able to handle it. Now all they had to do was wait for her to actually show up, assuming she hadn't gotten cold feet at the very last second...

TAGS:
Zefgahld Qojex

 

[Zefgahld Qojex]

Ronhar Tane

The shadow of a ship shifting through the sky overhead briefly obscured the light as a rectangular craft - itself painted as black as space - whirred overhead, trailing green ion energy in its wake as it circled Landing Pad Orenth once, lowering itself onto its landing struts alongside several Remnant-aligned craft: a decision that spoke of comfort, confidence or plain stupidity.

The assembled wannabe-ARCs and Junktroopers could watch calmly as the landing ramp descended from beneath the cockpit, its soft silver a sharp contrast to the glossy black of the rest of the craft's exterior. With the gentle pattering of species-based shoes, the soft clanking of footsteps, casual yet steady, would have been picked up by the Troopers' auditory sensors along with the occasional tap of a metal walking stick, in addition to the sound of the gentle, steady whir that accompanied the short alien as a strange, box-shaped astromech droid atop a cylindrical tread, alongside its taller owner. The demure fox alien, gray-furred along her slim form (smokey-white along her underside), occasionally twirled her white, intricately carved cane through the air every few steps, merely because she was in such a good mood! It would land with a metallic tink! before the Amaran continued on her way past the Troopers, whom she would nod or wave occasionally to. Loose maroon outdoor breeches hung over her wiry legs, and her bushy gray tail billowed behind her as she sauntered along, aided by her white metal walking stick at every second or third step, a worn white shirt sporting a black symbol honoring the Coruscant Security Force hung over a slim, petite and boyish chest, leaving the barest hint of her smoke-white flat midriff exposed, beneath which could be glimpsed the corners of two bacta patches; the navy blue coattails of an oiled Gundark Leather duster hung over her small body, and dark brown fingerless gloves kept her hands a little warmer, as well as added to her grip on the off-chance she needed her pistol, which she doubted. Every form of the Empire's honor and forthrightness she trusted. Short red hair hung loose and frazzled over her gray-furred face, one side of which had been bandaged over a healing burn wound, giving her a somewhat comical appearance.

At the lithe fox alien's side, the boxlike, ghost-white and rather dirty body of the strange astromech - an S19-Series - twirled once even as its tread carried it forward, flashing its green photoreceptor over everything around it, while it whistled curiously. It's photoreceptor traveled up and down along the strange fusion of organic and cybernetic parts that was one rather bizarre-looking Stormtrooper as it and its Amaran Mistress came to a stop at last before the taller humanoid, deep behind the lines of the man's accompanying troops. The astromech's green photoreceptor shifted up and down once more over the cyborg, his purple trim glinting in the sunlight as his Mistress rested her hands atop the bronze handle of her metal walking stick, leaning her weight on it as she took a moment to relax, her unswollen alien eye - with midnight blue sclera and an eerie white iris - flared brightly with happiness as she smiled left-sidedly at the man - while its twin was harshly bruised partially-closed.

Even despite her bedraggled, war-torn appearance, the Amaran bowed to the taller cybernetic Stormtrooper in his strange dark armor.

"Mister Tane... I hope this day has found you well."