Log:Voss Galactic Sabotage, Part 1
Voss Galactic Sabotage, Part 1
OOC Date: March 29, 2023 (Optional)
Location: Nar Shaddaa
Participants: Hadrix Kora, Terek Rosol, Clerr, Narsha, Aria Voss
http://www.swaoa-mush.com/index.php?title=Log:Voss_Galactic_Sabotage,_Part_1
- SCENARIO ****
A message was posted on the DarkNet. A one-time job for a small counter-terrorist group.
Due to the sensitive nature of the job, each individual hired for this task has been vetted through what methods exist on the darknet to ensure that none have connections to the Black Nova Corporation or are suspected to be members of law enforcement or the media. To a lesser extent, their reputation is verified through whatever means are available, and a price is negotiated commensurate with their skill. Half up front. Half on successful completion.
BEGIN XMIT:3*gXwcJ^6_$KFd,*a`AzBWx<NRZm2KLO*IJ6fgzqwoH\]1:\%-AZ7v9<1n\^p1pxo7
SECURE HOLONET MESSAGE FROM: sRVDLXUIwN@holonet.net RE: JOB C68C4ABF4A139
FUND XFER COMPLETE
MEET 20:00 HRS, 22 HELONA, 1178 @ NEBULA CANTINA, KO KENTOTA
CONTACT NAME IS SLADE
BLOOD AND CREDITS
Jqk,\(!1^;egsBKKk=frls\[269W<AAbU3lPugw:\{e/z\{B/b\{\[>F/A:taQh*,z#WO:END XMIT
Once the money has been transferred, the meeting time and place is set. They're told a man known as 'Slade' will meet them at the Nebula Cantina in the Ko Hentota Sector of Nar Shaddaa.
-- The Alley --
The door of the Nebula Cantina is in a narrow and dingy alleyway of Ko Kentota in Nar Shaddaa's lower levels. Down here, there's no 'law' except the biggest thugs and gangs. Trash and debris litters the ground, and the walls of the surrounding buildings are dirty and covered in graffiti.
The occasional flickering light cast long shadows across the pavement. There's no 'looking up' down here like there is on the higher levels. It's all durasteel walls, catwalks, and smog, creating a permanently eerie ambiance -- especially once you factor in the grinding noise of the old air handlers and the occasional distant scream. Or.. not so distant.
There might have been a sign at one point, but now there's not much that still identifies it. You either know where the Nebula is, or you don't. The door's made of thick-looking dura-steel with a small, sleek panel embedded in it.
---
Hadrix Kora (Had) pages Terek Rosol and Aria Voss: Haddles would simply walk to the bar, knock if required and give the 'helmet glare' if the panel opens and someone asks what his business is
From afar (to Aria Voss and Hadrix Kora), Terek Rosol (TR) generally likes to let Had take the lead on these, and just stand there and look intimidating in his dark armor. Spooky.
You paged Hadrix Kora and Terek Rosol with 'At the knock, the panel slides open with a hiss, revealing a pair of glowing eyes that scan them from head to toe. A disembodied, digital male voice rises up, stuttering in suspicious, broken Basic, "Wha-Wha-What's the pa-password?" (think Max Headroom)'
From afar (to Terek Rosol and Aria Voss), Hadrix Kora (Had) lets the question hang for a few moments before responding, <"Open the door, or I open the door.">
You paged Hadrix Kora and Terek Rosol with 'The door slides open with a hiss, revealing a dark and smoky interior. The attendant who greeted them at the door is large, shirtless, and intimidating, with bulging muscles, glowing red eyes, and a cybernetic arm. He eyes them warily, then steps aside to let them enter, his head occasionally jerking to the side like he had a short in a motivator somewhere.
"Sit o-o-over there," he states, pointing to a shadowed alcove towards the back of the bar. It's got a big table in it and some empty chairs, but most of it's hidden. That's all that be made out about it from the front door.'
---
Narsha (Nar) pages: Not knowing a password... I simply tell the door guard I'm here to talk to Slade. You paged Narsha with 'At the knock, the panel slides open with a hiss, revealing a pair of glowing eyes that scan them from head to toe. A disembodied, digital male voice rises up, stuttering in suspicious, broken Basic, "Wha-Wha-What's the pa-password?" (think Max Headroom)' Narsha (Nar) pages: Blood and credits You paged Narsha with 'That's awesome. I expected NO ONE to get that.' You paged Narsha with 'The door slides open with a hiss, revealing a dark and smoky interior. The attendant who greeted them at the door is large, shirtless, and intimidating, with bulging muscles, glowing red eyes, and a cybernetic arm. He eyes them warily, then steps aside to let them enter, his head occasionally jerking to the side like he had a short in a motivator somewhere.
"Sit o-o-over there," he states, pointing to a shadowed alcove towards the back of the bar. It's got a big table in it and some empty chairs, but most of it's hidden. That's all that be made out about it from the front door.' ---
Clerr (Cl) pages: If I manage to break the handle off, will the door open?
You paged Clerr with 'At the knock, the panel slides open with a hiss, revealing a pair of glowing eyes that scan them from head to toe. A disembodied, digital male voice rises up, stuttering in suspicious, broken Basic, "Wha-Wha-What's the pa-password?" (think Max Headroom)'
Clerr (Cl) pages: Clerr calmly replies in a deep, intimidating voice, "I'm here to see Slade." (Use intimidation skill)
You paged Clerr with 'The door slides open with a hiss, revealing a dark and smoky interior. The attendant who greeted them at the door is large, shirtless, and intimidating, with bulging muscles, glowing red eyes, and a cybernetic arm. He eyes them warily, then steps aside to let them enter, his head occasionally jerking to the side like he had a short in a motivator somewhere.
"Sit o-o-over there," he states, pointing to a shadowed alcove towards the back of the bar. It's got a big table in it and some empty chairs, but most of it's hidden. That's all that be made out about it from the front door.'
-- The Nebula Cantina --
The Nebula Cantina is a seedy establishment located in the Ko Hentota Sector of Nar Shaddaa. A dimly lit and run-down bar carved out of an old warehouse, it caters to a rough and tumble clientele, and it's known for its dark and dangerous atmosphere.
The one, big room is sparsely decorated. Its old and worn furnishings have seen better days, and the walls are lined with flickering, barely-functional holographic advertisements for various illegal goods and services. The air is thick with the smell of smoke, alcohol, and some other things most people usually try hard not to identify. There's no windows, but nobody seems to care. There's nothing to see outside, anyway, and it provides privacy from creepers that want to get in on the action.
The bar itself is a long, dingy counter that runs the length of the room. Two old-model droid bartenders behind it serve up drinks to the patrons -- cheap, but potent and usually mixed with some cheap spice to give them an extra kick. Now, as usual, it's crowded, with various shady characters occupying the shadowy booths, alcoves, and tables scattered around the room. There are a couple of should-be-scrapped gambling tables running games, too, and music plays from an old jukebox in front of which a holographic female Twi'lek gyrates in revealing clothing.
Ambiance: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mQgumuM6TAs
Mastery in intelligence gathering and analysis... years of experience for that.
Proficiency in close-quarters combat and weaponry... check.
Advanced infiltration and extraction capabilities... definitely.
Discretion.
The last one had given cause for the matte black seeker droid that accompanied the Mandalorian to give him 'guff'.
<<"You. Discrete.">>
<<"Shut up, Gripper.">> the pair bickering on private comms.
Managing to glower at the doorman without his face visible, the big man crosses to the alcove area, opting to remain standing with his hands resting before him - right hand resting over left vambrace. Not quite standing at ease, heels subtly lifted, his weight on the balls of his feet. Helmet obscuring his features and leaving only the T shaped visor to glare out at the world around him. Hadrix looms, waiting patiently.
Terek follows Hadrix into the room after the threat with the explosive, <"Why does that always work?"> He asks, as he follows onward. His R2 rolls in behind him, commenting to him in beeps, <"Yeah well I suppose being incinerated in the core of a star would be a good motivator.">
Narsha followed in shortly after the first pair of men. The flexi-catsuit clingy on her plump curves for everyone to ogle and stare at. Her legs were crossed and the pistol at her hip at least gave the woman /some/ look of a professional... something. Perhaps the strangest thing about the woman was that she wore a cloth blindfold across her eyes, giving the very real impression that she was blind. Perhaps making her more noticeable than her curvy form. Not having a need to look around thanks to being able to 'see' all around her, her attention does get caught on the hulking brute and a familiar pair that she'd seen at least once before long ago. Not wanting to interrupt their conversation, Narsha simply sashay past them over to the indicated sitting space.
Clerr enters the establishment with his vibro-ax at rest against his shoulder. His eyes are locked with the doorman for a few seconds, but there's clearly an understanding between the two when Clerr is let by. He makes his way towards a shadowy table, setting his ax against the table before taking a seat, although he pulls it a distance away from the table before sitting. The massive being barely fits and the chair creaks loudly beneath his weight.
<"Most people are afraid of death.">
That's Hadrix's response to Terek's inquiry, at least. Helmet turning enough to mark the arrivals of the others while he stays otherwise a statue for the proceedings. Inside the confines of his helmet data scrolls, from suit sensors and feeds from Gripper where she hovers at his right shoulder. That data shared with Terek, including his own personal updates, threat assessments and potential fire lanes.
<"That's why most run when they see our kind crest the hill..."> there's the sound of a grin in the big man's voice... such as it is. The slightly distorted tone emitting from the helmet vocalizer a grinding of ice and stone wrapped in an aristocrats Coruscanti lilt that screams 'Tower Dweller'.
<"They do say discrestion is the better part of valor. I suppose for others that applies to us."> Terek replies, following his clan mate, staying outwardly silent other than communication over his comms.
Perhaps it was coincidence that the do Mando's were nearing the meeting place of the doorman pointed finger. As the two men approach, the 'blind' woman gives them both a finger wave with a amused smile on her face. "Evening gentlemen. I don't suppose you got a holomail like I did, did you?"
Clerr notes the others present at the table once he's settled, although he doesn't stare, it's just impolite in his experience, and often a good way to get well acquainted with someone's blaster. His arms hang down along the sides of his chair, he really is just too large for it. Eventually he speaks, "So.. where is this Slade?" His voice is deep, rather loud, although he is outwardly calm, and patient. He's taking great pains to speak discretely, given the size of his vocal cords.
A middle-aged human male with a hardened, enigmatic demeanor approaches the table. He has a lean, wiry build, and his movements are deliberate and precise. His face is rugged, with a few days' growth of beard shadowing his strong jawline, and his piercing gray eyes seem to take in everything around him. His hair is cropped short and is beginning to show flecks of gray at the temples, hinting at the passage of time and the toll his profession has taken on him. A jagged scar runs diagonally across his left cheek, a souvenir from a past encounter that he doesn't readily discuss.
Slade dresses inconspicuously, wearing a dark, weathered jacket over a simple, neutral-toned shirt. His pants are well-worn but sturdy, suitable for unpredictable environments. A low-slung utility belt encircles his waist, holding a compact, reliable blaster pistol, a small datapad, and an assortment of tools and gadgets. Despite his unassuming appearance, there's an undeniable air of confidence and competence about him. It's clear that he's no stranger to dangerous circumstances.
He greets the group with a cautious nod, his gray eyes appraising each of them in turn, and offers a tight-lipped, almost imperceptible smile as he claims a vacant seat at the table.
"Right here," he answers Clerr. "Good to see you all made it," he says in a low, gravelly voice, making sure to keep their conversation discreet in the noisy and crowded cantina. "Mandalorians... good. Name's Slade. Word is, somebody's planning to sabotage one of the new Voss Galactic ships, and the lady runs it's payin' a lot of credits to make sure that don't happen. I've done a little askin', and I've got a couple of contacts who might be able to help you out," he explains, his eyes darting around the room as he speaks. "But I'm just the messenger."
Another turn of his helm towards the woman speaking Mando'a, minute but there. No response though, only a long breath where the edge of the visor is angled on the Miralukan. The Yuzzem seemingly taken as part and parcel for the situation, if nothing else.
Slade's arrival arrests further though and Hadrix's attention is rapt on the scarred human. Listening until the brief explanation finishes,
<"The job discussed discrete operations... Assuming, then, we're to counter the attempt and leave the would be saboteur somewhere... permanent before they get the opportunity to make good on their threat?"> the big man's inquiry drawing a slow turn from the droid floating at his shoulder, as Gripper just -looks- at him.
The dark armored cathar gives the woman a nod, at least acknowledging her, which is a bit more than Hadrix is willing to give, it would seem. Clarr gets a look from that visored helmet, but nothing else from the other Mandalorian.
He lets Hadrix handle any negotiations. The last time they swapped roles they had to shoot their way out, nobody had a good time. His hands rest on the buckle of his leather belt, however. Neutral and visible, but ready to go in whatever direction is needed, as situations like this often call for.
Industrial sabotage, perhaps? He has to wonder if some rival corporation isn't behind it. That seems more likely to him, but the mission would remain the same regardless of the source, to stop the act.
She was about to continue speaking before Slade appears. A small finger wave and smile was given to the man, almost bordering on the flirtatious side of smiles. "Oh... that just won't do. That's why I decided to attend this meeting~ We have to keep such activities against entities that /deserve it./ " Also the fact that VG pays her day job's bills gives a certain motivation to ply her 'hobby' skills.
Clerr remains silent until Slade finishes speaking, instinctively placing his foot so that he can kick his ax into his hands IF this turned out to be something other than advertised, but he's quickly put at ease, "Whatever it takes, whatever it is, I'm in." He doesn't embellish.
Slade looks up and offers a nod at Hadrix. "That's the gist of it. Lady Voss doesn't think it'll look good to investors if one'a her new shipments gets taken out. Doesn't even want the mention of it. Bad publicity." He grins. "'Tween you, me, and the holo-light, she was maddern' a sprayed mynock. I think she's got retribution planned for whoever's plannin' it."
Four figures approach the alcove table with a menacing swagger. The dim lighting in the cantina casts dark shadows over their faces, emphasizing their scowling expressions.
The first is a tall, muscular Weequay with numerous tattoos adorning his arms and face. His coarse, brown skin is marked by scars from past brawls and battles, and his dark eyes seem to size up the characters with a mix of curiosity and contempt. He wears a worn leather vest over a black, sleeveless shirt, revealing the toned muscles in his arms. A thick chain dangles from his belt, serving as both a fashion statement and a potential weapon.
The second is a lean, agile Twi'lek with greenish-blue skin and a pair of long, slender lekku draped over her shoulders. Her face is adorned with a series of intricate tribal markings that suggest a connection to one of Nar Shaddaa's notorious crime syndicates. She's dressed in dark, form-fitting clothing, and a holster containing a small, well-worn blaster is strapped to her thigh.
Behind them, there are to more figures that look younger and far less certain in their surroundings -- a Devaronian female and a Zabrak male.
The Weequay sneers as he addresses the group, his deep voice dripping with menace. "You're sittin' in our spot," he growls, looking around the table and making it clear that he expects the characters to move. "We don't take kindly to outsiders muscling in on our turf."
The Twi'lek smirks, her cold eyes scanning the characters as if daring them to argue. "You better find somewhere else to talk to your friend here," she adds, nodding towards Slade.
A section of the bar is just... gone if the aftermath of the Massive Mandalorian turning.
A pair of pistols in his hands, drawn in a blink and it speaks volumes of the Weequay that the disruptor blast is dipped away from. That would have been cleaner than the massive hole blasted in the shoulder of the leather skinned humanoid. The heavy caliber chased by a second that riffles cloth and smashes a hole in the far wall big enough to put a fist into.
Standing firm, on the ball of his feet, with both pistols head with the disruptor slightly leading the Morellian, Hadrix's glare is audible.
<"We're busy. Go away, keep breathing.">
These guys probably shouldn't have picked the fight they did. Terek rises up as he draws, taking a bead on the twi'lek as he pulls his W-35 from the holster. He always forgets Hadrix likes to use that damn thing indoors, the sound making his ears ring even inside of the helmet.
His first shot hits low, scorching the ground behind the twi'lek's left side, as Terek moves for a better position and fires his second shot, a golden bolt lancing out and putting an end to a bottle of low-tier liqor on the top of the bar.
WHen the first shots ring out, Narsha isn't all that prepared. Being made for slow killings and not firefights, the plump assassin makes the two armored Mandalorian's her shield and cracks off two shots at the Twilek. "Go away you lily livered cumquat! This here is our table now! Go away before they make cleaning solution from your blood!" Trying her best to sound masculine and like one of the two men she was using as cover said it and not her.
Clerr takes advantage of the chaos to charge one of the beings who has yet to be targetted. The appears to be falling apart and Clerr REALLY wants to get paid, so he chooses the nuclear option, hoping to stop the fight as soon as possible, and avoid any of his 'co workers' getting killed. The giant yuzzem leaps from his chair, leaving his ax, and charges the zabrak. His massive hands grip the smaller being's neck tightly, applying pressure liberally, and lifting them off the ground with a roar, "I take it that your precious spot isn't worth all of your lives?! Look around you! Already outnumbered! Pathetic!! You can leave now or in pieces!"
Whatever the thugs /thought/ was going to happen... didn't. Maybe they'd never met a Mandalorian before. Maybe they thought they could handle it.
The Weequay, at least, couldn't. He didn't even get a chance to sneer again, which was kind of his thing. He dropped like a rock, taking two shots to the chest from Hadrix's pistol, and hit the ground smoking.
Mass. Freaking. Chaos.
The Twi'lek's eyes go wide and she dives out of the way of Terek's incoming fire, scrabbling for the blaster pistol on her hip. Narsha's shot, however, catches her in her side, winging her. She stumbles backwards, looking for cover, and trips over the Devaronian behind her, screaming some curse at the barely-initiated buffoon for not being able to get out of her way.
It isn't, however, until Clerr rises and grabs the Zabrak by the throat that the /entire/ establishment goes /silent/ . Even the jukebox stops playing, leaving the holo-dancer wiggling to silence. The Zabrak dangles, feet kicking, grabbing at this throat.
"LEAVE HIM!" the Twi'lek woman shouts at the Devaronian, scrambling to her feet and /running/ out of the bar. The Devaronian's big eyes dart back and forth for only a second before she, too, is running after the Twi'lek.
That leaves the Zabrak squirming, alone, looking absolutely /terrified/ until he seems to slip from the Yuzzem's powerful grasp, hitting the floor already at a stumbling run, and clutching at his throat.
Slade, for his part, didn't even move from his seat. He watched it all with a kind of fatherly appreciation for work well done, trusting the group to handle it and not being at all disappointed.
Gradually, the noise in the Cantina resumes, and things go back to normal. Except for the dead or unconscious Weequay on the floor.
Slade leans in closer, lowering his voice even further to ensure that their conversation remains private.
"If we can get back to business. First, there's a Rodian named Grehk. Deals in explosives. He might could give you a lead. You'll find him operatin' out in the Night Market... you saw it? He has a green tent with a picture of an acklay on it. Be cautious when approaching him, though. He's not particularly fond of strangers, and he's known to be a bit... trigger-happy. Tell 'im Slade sent you."
Slade pauses for a moment, considering his next words carefully. "The second contact is a bit more... high-profile. There's a rich guy who frequents the Dragonsnake Cantina up in New Vertica. His name's Lorn Vossk. He's got a weakness for gambling and is known to let his guard down after a few rounds of sabaac. If you can get close to him and win his trust, he might let slip some valuable information about the corporation's dealings or any potential threats they're aware of. Just be careful not to arouse his suspicions ? he's got powerful friends, and he won't hesitate to call on them if he feels threatened."
He pauses again, then, to look around the table.
"Any questions?"
<"Can he call his friends, this gambler, if we acquire him and have a chat with him... privately?"> is there a grin in Hadrix's voice? There's no fancy twirls of his guns, only the pistols slide back into their cross holsters as he turns back towards slade, seemingly ignorant of any mayhem that follows in the wake of the gunplay.
<"But if it must be quiet, as you wish."> a shift of the big man's shoulders lets the krayt scale cape he wears drape back across his left arm, concealing it and the mandalorian becomes a statue again.
<"Either way, we can get either of them tracked and attended. Information retrieval won't be hard... and the Rodian won't see me until I want him to, if it's prepared I gather from the demolitionist.">
<"How do you run an operation in the open in the market if you're also not fond of strangers."> Terek wonders out loud, as he thinks about the trigger happy Rodian. He shrugs faintly, <"I don't know a thing about sabaac. So we may need someone who actually can play to face off against him.">
Narsha taps a manicured nail on her chin a few times as she ponders the name of the second individual with a small purr of thought. "He works for Black Nova Corp. I've heard of him within the circles I flirt through~" Giving a flirt smile at both of the Mandalorians. "Can't say that I've slept with anyone in BNC though for easier access to him..."
If Narsha /did/ have eyes, one might see a lightbulb appear in them. Holding up one finger and pulling out her holocom. "If you lovely gentleman would give me one moment. Let me make a call and see if I can't pull a string or two~" Purring the words out and dialing a number
Clerr watches what to him are amateurs scramble out of the establishment. He does indeed drop the zabrak, "My word is my oath. You will not leave here in pieces but do not ever cross my path again." With that settled he returns to his sunken chair without another word and listens to Slade resume the group's briefing. As the job's objectives become more clear, he continues to remain silent as others ply their trades.
Slade narrows his eyes up at Hadrix. "Well, I would /appreciate/ if you could leave my informants in the same condition you found 'em," he answers, complete seriousness in his expression. "But business is business. You do what you feel like you have to do."
Then Slade's gaze turns to Terek, and he chuckles. "He likes repeat customers. New faces not so much. But I guess you'll find out when ya' meet 'im. I had him poke around, ask his /buddies/ about anything that was sold big enough t'take out a ship in the last couple'a days. He didn't like it, but Lady Voss paid the bill. Figure it might give you some idea of what's goin' on. He should have a datastick waitin' on ya'."
Slade's eyes shift over to the Miraluka, a sly smile spreading across his lips. "That's the one, pretty thang." When she stands up, his gaze /leers/ after her for a moment, distracted.
"Anything else? Grehk should be waitin'..."
Meanwhile, back at the ranch (on Nasha's holodisc), a little six-inch tall translucent blue Zeltron appears. "Hey, Narsha. What's up?... Lorn Vossk? Never heard of him... Wait, /Black Nova/ ? Narsha, getting involved with Black Nova right now is /not/ a good idea, but let me see what I can dig up. Give me a couple minutes. I'll call you back."
And, true to her word, it takes a few minues for Aria to call back. By this point, hopefully, Narsha is just meeting the group outside the bar, on their way to the Night Market.
"Alright. I made some calls. He'll be pleased to have you his escort, tomorrow, to his regular game at the Dragonsnake. I really hope you'll reconsider, though. That whole company is bad news...."
And soon enough, the call is over.
-- The Night Market --
The Night Market is somewhat misleadingly named as it is open all hours. When it was first established, it only operated under cover of darkness. The reason for this was to accommodate the illegal nature of its merchandise and the need for such dealings to be done in the shadows. That isn't to say such shady dealings do not still occur. They absolutely do. However, there is also a day market that leans towards less illegal, but no closer to legit, retail.
Held under a patchwork of mismatched tents hung with colorful fluttering flags and other bright, mismatched decor, this vast bazaar still serves as a reliable source of anything the various laws don't want you to buy. Some of its illegal wares are available semi-openly from shady characters with stalls that are quick to pack up and run. Other items require asking the right questions of the right people at the right time.
The Night Market sells food, weapons, clothing, tech, furnishings, entertainment, fortune-telling, accessories, and a thousand other options to part a buyer with their chits. Nothing is regulated here. Scammers and pickpockets roam free and retribution for those caught is as swift as a blaster shot, but that doesn't deter the ever-present crowds who come to participate in this unconventional commerce.
Ambiance: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ye5ciFlmjaU
As the characters make their way through the crowded black market, they notice a green tent that stands out from the rest. The tent is adorned with a picture of an Acklay, the fearsome creature from the planet Vendaxa, and bears the name "Grehk's Arms and Explosives" in bold letters.
Approaching the tent, the characters are met by a small, wiry Rodian with a trigger-happy demeanor. Grehk eyes them suspiciously, his hand never far from the blaster at his side.
The interior of the tent is dimly lit, with a variety of weapons, electronic devices, and explosives on display. Blasters of various sizes and models hang from hooks on the walls, while shelves are filled with datapads, spikes explosives, ranging from small grenades to larger bombs.
Go quiet.
For a man of his particular size, Al'verde Kora's expertise as an infiltration expert is justifiably questioned. Until the man finds shadows and a few larger creatures to block sight of him for a moment.
Then he's, quite simply, gone.
Wending his way past the clusters of people walking the Night Market, living in the dark places and moving like oil over water until he has made his way to the Rodian's place of 'business'. One large hand emerging from the shadow to close around the hand the large eyed being is keeping near his blaster.
<"Slade stated you had information regarding Black Nova">
The scoop cheeked helmet slips up alongside Grehk's when the big man speaks, the perpetual rasp of a throat ruined by decades of battlefield smoke and shouting making the vocalizer vibrate with the bestial purr that is the murmur of his voice.
<"He asked you be kept in one piece. I will acquiesce, but that requires you provide the information without trying to shoot, stab, strike, or mislead me."> an edge creeping into that growling speech, <"Your choice.">
Terek's dark armor has found its home in the shadows, as the cathar moves through the darkness like the hunter that he is. The cathar appears from the side as Hadrix grabs the Rodian, <"Bear in mind he never specified the size of the one piece."> The cathar growls out, arms crossed over his chest as he glares at the Rodian despite the faceless visor.
From her place in the crowed where she disappeared into, Narsha just shakes her head as she listens to the start of the 'conversation' the mandalorians initiate. -Guess I'll upcharge them if they ever become clients- is said as she mentally sighs in disappointment.
Clerr approaches the tent, and in an instant, everyone else vanishes. He smirks, not actually knowing if they all ditched the job, or if they took a stealthy approach. But he still wants to get paid, so he approaches the rodian, ax in hand, and simply stares at him, "Found you.." Whatever he was planning never needs to be put in action however, as Hadrix suddenly appears behind said rodian. Clerr grins after the party's demands are given, "What he said and make it fast. We've already been delayed enough and we're out of patience."
Force, Mandalorians are /terrifying/ .
Grehk /squeaks/ . "I--I remember," he says. "I--I've got the details on a datastick. H-Here it is.." He /slowly/ reaches into his free hand into his pocket and withdraws a datastick on his palm. "But..." He swallows. "But I'm not just going to h--hand it over for free..."
But while Grehk is haggling, a small Togruta girl in ratty clothes slips out from hiding behind one of his tables and deftly snatches the datastick from Grehk's hand!
The Rodian lets out a cry of anger, but the Togruta doesn't even look around. She's too quick for him. She darts off towards the crowded market.
The child grabbing the stick puts Hadrix in motion - quite literally flip-rolling over the Rodian, smashing through a display table before he stretches out into a full run. Exploding out of the demolitionists tent, after a fashion, the big man hurtles after. Legs pumping and looking as if he might fall into a quadrupedal lope after the kid.
<"HEY.">
The single word barked when he twists to grab the arm he saw take the datastick, to haul her back and towards him. Halting himself almost as soon as he has his grip, heels digging into the ground, beskar hobnails shooting up sparks from beneath his feet.
That kid is quick! Terek doesn't even seem to have a moment to react before she's on the run. But before Terek can move, Hadrix is on the way after her. Terek joins him after a moment or two, leaving the Rodian, <"How are you always so fast over short distances?"> Terek says to Hadrix, over the private comms.
Narsha for her part was about to pull her pistol and shoot the girl's leg to cause her to stumble but Hattrick was on the ball with his circus like reflexes! The gun is put away while things look to be taken care of.
Clerr relaxes as the youngling is caught. He doesn't have to resort to.. his methods this time. That's fine by him. He lowers his ax and the youngling quickly passes from his list of things to be concerned about. He watches Hadrix with a curious look, not entirely sure where to go from here. Not knowing a THING about technology, he just let's the smart people do whatever.
