Log:Rebellion: Impervious Metal

Impervium Purchase

OOC Date: November 6, 2015 (Optional)
Location: Driftward Mining Station Mid-Rim
Participants: Wil Larolia, Ben Relor, Ferr'ai'ovumlu, Cin'cirad Rook, Sus, Dailo Fett and Reverberate as GM

Driftward Station, situated in one of the many inter-system asteroid fields has been able to hold its claim to a series of drifting rocks containing the hyperdense Impervium ore for decades. Selling primarily to the Corporate Sector, but in sparsely limited quantities due to the rarity of the metal.

Of late word has come of a new shipment being prepared to sell to highest bidder in recent months after a year of mining and refining to acquire enough to even do so. Something that the Rebellion has vested interest in, not for the purity of the metal itself but of the alloy possible with Duranium.

Captain Larolia had taken the job and their ship was welcomed, with the intent of talking business as an independent captain, at least to gain access initially.

But the real question is, how peacefully will this go?

For the uninitiated, the Adept Hammer is a fairly run of the mill M75 cruiser. Wil Larolia, captain of the Adept Hammer is, well, not so run of the mill. For one thing, he's an albino with white hair and red eyes. For another, he comes off as a scoundrel and a rake, seemingly consciously projecting the image of a womanizing, gambling pirate.

He's not actually a pirate, he's a skilled officer and excellent tactician who graduated from one of the premier war colleges in the known galaxy.

He accepted this mission, assembled a crew, and as docking procedures, well, proceed, he addresses his fellow rebels.

"Alright. So we're going to try this the proper way first. We're gonna talk to them and try to get a good deal. Hopefully they'll be amenable to our haggling, and we can load up and head home."

He pats the holstered blaster at his hip for emphasis. "If not, we still need the metal, and we aren't leaving without it."

Ben Relor, Special Ops, is a scout of many versatile talents, but he usually comes along on missions for one of three reasons: his big mouth, his paranoia, and his ability to explode seemingly anything, even with next to no materials. He's anti-authoritarian, anarchistic, and here, on this mission, where he will probably put his distrust of everyone and everything to good use.

"Aye aye, Captain," Relor says, but it would be hard to miss the sarcasm in his tone. He stands there with his arms folded, scowling beneath the brim of his olive green cadet cap. Beside him is an R5 astromech droid with a sloppy red custom paint job that's seen better days. "And if they don't give it up, what -- we're just gonna start shooting? Tell me you have a better plan than that."

There's a lot of things that people like Trilliam Jinz are into. As a soldier, the moment he heard there was an op with possible violence but also possible non-violence, there was an immediate signing up. He's a bit along down the road as the quiet type but he's always willing to step into the fight for the cause. Which is why he's along for the ride with Captain Larolia and the rest of this crew that's come to see what's up.

"As long as we shoot first? It's a good plan." Trilliam offers his two cents with a smirk attached to his lips and a tilt of his head. He also takes a moment to blow a bubble and pop the gum he's been chewing. It's green, by the way. Not that it actually matters.

Of course Cin'cirad knows all about ships like this, having served on a few as well as the Legacy - her current ship - where she's serving as Wing Commander and XO. That said, there was a request for someone that could fly and also shoot at things, so Sira was more than willing to step in for that role. The rifle over her back with a red-and-white striped barrel, wearing mandalorian armor and holding a datapad. A shift from her foot-to-foot as she looks up from yet another report.

She's totally not working on work while waiting for this to kick off.

<"Presumably, Captain Larolia intends to negotiate first. So, not quite 'start shooting' as the plan. Otherwise, we might need to know more about the meeting location to make further plans."> She doesn't turn her head, but Ben Relor can probably guess that she's looking in his direction. She does keep running into him after all...

As the Rebel docking craft lands, a chunky block of a transport, touches down to disgorge the crew into the 'visitor's bay' of the station, a portly Muun approaches. Flanked by a sullustan and a human, if not near human, to either side and a quartet of personal guards.

The thin headed leader of the group spreading her hands in a welcoming gesture while simultaneously leering as though to size up the potential threat... or financial solvency, of those whom have earned the audience today, "Welcome, WELCOME, to Driftward. I am Administrator Tutol and my associates Iennan" motioning to the sullustan and then the human "And Vuop." The latter of the pair offering a faint bow of his head.

The guards remain quiet as they do unnamed. Faceplates masking where they look though they hold their weapons low ready.

Further behind two binary lifters are trundling, each carrying a multi-ton crate sealed and marked with the company logo.

The craft lands, the hatch hisses in a wash of pressurized steam as it lowers, and the Captain is the first one off. He move with an easy confidence, almost a swagger. ... Okay, it's totally a swagger. He moves off of the shuttle like he owns the place, an easy, lopsided grin plastered to his face. Though, honestly, that's almost always there.

He sweeps an almost courtly bow to the administrator. "I'm Captain Larolia, and these are my associates," he says as he straightens, gesturing to the crew assembled behind him. "I hope you're ready to do some business, because I absolutely am."

Ben lights a cigarette as they move off the ship, and angrily smokes it as he moves with the others to meet the Muun and his crew. Five rolls along behind him, always staying close. If Ben were bigger and more impressive-looking, that fiery look and the scowl on his face might make him intimidating. And he kind of is, but in more of a loose cannon, might-pop-off-at-any-moment sort of way. Mangy, skinny, abused rabid dog tied to an electric fence sort of way.

That aside, he's silent for the time being, which probably won't last. Giving everyone, including his crew mates, a baleful look. On full alert, but there doesn't seem to be anything to act on. Yet.

Following after the others, Trilliam plays the role of Rebel Soldier really well. He doesn't have much else to add to the conversation and even seems to be right in line with those on the other side with his blaster rifle held at the low ready as well. He just keeps his attention on those they came to meet and their surroundings to be on the safe side. But casually. So as to not spook anyone across the way.

A few more smackings of his gum and another bubble is blown and popped. This time it's blue. Weird.

ick-tick-tack. The various toggle switches flipped in the cockpit by the Mandalorian in her armor. The whine of the engines starts to whether away before some of them come to a stop. Though, notably, the she makes sure to not shut down the craft entirely. Keeping it set for a 'hot start' as it were, by not shutting down the secondary engines. Another few switches to turn off the HUD and set most of the cockpit into a stand-by mode. She ran through most of it by heart, but the datapad strapped to her thigh had the checklist she ran over as she went section-by-section.

<"Okay... Cleared and green."> Her finger ran down a bank of switches, then checked the fuses along one row. <"All in, none popped, good-and-done."> Leaving the datapad clipped to her thigh armor, she tapped the power button to turn it off. Harnesses undone and sliding out of her seat to grab the rifle and sling it over a shoulder. The barrel was definitely... distinctive with it's red and white striping. The mirrored visor in the green armor, turning to look toward the hatchway out of the ship. She would be the last one, ensuring everything was secure.

Sus strolls a long with the other groundies, pistols holsters low on her hips where her hands can easily grab them the green skinned woman looks around at every thing. She's wary but so far Sus doesn't have much to say, preferring to stay quiet and observe at least for the moment.

"Oh! We are -always- intent on business, I assure you!" The nasal voice of the Muun carrying as she surveys Wil and his assembled crew. Her smile creeping around the corners of her curiously shaped head, the Muun even moving to offer a hand to the captain as she continues,

"So then, per tradition of Muunilist - I ask you make your initial offer that we can discuss, negotiate, or dicker even."

Ben's outward hostility, by the manner in which he turns his attention about the hold gains a wide eyed set f blinks from the Sullustan but the pair flanking Tutol keep their own silences as well as pleasant expressions.

Money does make people happy.

LAST TIME ON METAL MERCHANTBALL Z

The Rebellion crew landed on the mining station of Driftward, greeted by the Administrator Tutol, her two assistants and a handful of guards. So far, only niceties have been exchanged, though this is about to change!

Wil's smile is gracious and gregarious as he steps forward. His body language is open and easygoing. He is doing what he does best and pouring on the charm. "So, I suppose we should get to it," he says, gesturing at the lifters bringing the crates. "If I could take a look at the goods, and if it's up to snuff, we can start talking offers."

Of course, because he is kind of a swaggering ass, he sweeps forward, heading for the crates without even a 'by your leave'. He's still nonthreatening, just eager and confident and he doesn't even look at the guards once.

Though he does throw out a subtle hand gesture to his fellows behind him. 'Be ready.'

Ben's hand has been hovering around his blaster anyway, just out of habit. His eyes narrow at how calm and pleasant everyone is being...he just can't seem to bring himself to admit that anything, including this, could be so easy. And so, he will continue to believe that it isn't.

At Wil's hand gesture, Ben falls into step behind him. It's not exactly what Will asked for but it is, apparently, what Ben is going to do. And where Relor goes, Five follows, so Will has a demo-tech and a droid trailing along after him now.

More gum chewing and more paying closer attention to the people on the other side from the Jinz. The gum smacking only seems to slow down whenever some words are shared between the Captain and the person in charge on the other side. Maybe even the Jinz is trying to pay attention for potential signs of an ambush. They happen.

The bubble he blows this time is a neon yellow. It almost looks like it has a faint glow but maybe that's just the flavor crystals embedded in the chewable treat.

With the final check of the cockpit door and closing it behind her, one of the mandalorians - Cin'cirad - starts toward the door. Her head staying forward, though her eyes are moving from side-to-side on the inside of the helmet. She's checking to make sure the ship is squared away as she makes her way back. One hand on the bulkhead next to her as she goes through her usual routine to make sure everything is where it should be. Partly because it'll make for a faster getaway, partly because it's part of the routine and doesn't require her to slow down.

As she reaches the door out of the shuttle she comes to a stop. Standing just a bit outside of the hatchway so that she can block the path of anyone that wants to get onboard, while not stopping anyone from leaving the shuttle craft. She's going to hang back and watch the group as they move toward the crates, her hand hanging down by the butt of the rifle so she can quickly grab the slugthrower if need be. <"Don't choke on the gum this time, Jinz.">

Sus keeps her hands close to her blasters trying to remain vigilant and still take in her surroundings the Falleen stays on guard, it's her second outing and she feels she still has much to prove among those seasoned folks here. Sus's fingers open and close repeatedly a subconscious gesture the shows her alertness.

Late to the party, a tall woman wearing the crimson plating of beskar'gam arrives near the back of the group. Armed to the brim with a small arsenal, the warrior is both nonthreatening and threatening all at once. She maintains her appearance with her helm locked in place, and when Wil gestures toward the entourage behind him, Dailo is there to provide the s l o w turn of her head to settle her T-visor upon the cordial Administrator.

Beneath the light, Jaster Mereel's sigil stands out in the armor. It was not the only emblem present, and that became apparent as Dailo turns and the far 'brighter' golden emblem is in view; in Mando'a it is known as Kyr'stad, though in basic it was Death Watch.

A raised, hairless, brow at the demand to see the goods and the Muun gives a moment of scrutiny for Wil before those flanking Tutol give her passing glances. Her hands coming to rest with fingers steepled before her there is a moment of mulling over this request before she gestures towards the lifters that begin thumping forward steadily.

When the crates hit the deck, albeit gently, it is with a dull thud that is almost without echo.

Revealed within, ingots of a metal black as pitch but with an almost crimson shimmer when the light strikes it right. Evenly rowed and stacked within. Both crates showing the metal within before the Muun request, "So... Shall we deal?"

Sus watches as the crates are brought out and set down being opened and she eyes the ingots and moves towards them. She speaks up to Wil. "Captain if I may look at the goods?" She says and without waiting she does move towards them eyeing them with a professional objectivity finally after a bit she speaks to Wil quietly before stepping back and resuming her stance of being on guard and prepared. "My apologies Sir for the interruption please continue."

Sus whispers to Wil. "Sir the metal is of high purity, easily worth like 300K at least.

The albino captain peers into the open crate, reaching in and running his fingers across an ingot, red eyes taking it in. "I'd say so," he says, stepping back from the crate and folding his arms.

It suddenly hits him that he should have double checked his budget from Rebellion Command. Kriff it, time to wing it.

"It looks good, but my eye for it isn't as good as my companion over there," he gestures at the Faleen. He watches her inspect, and leans down slightly to listen to her report, nodding once. "Thank you, Corporal," he says, moving towards the Muun. "So, shall we haggle? I'm prepared to offer you two hundred and fifty thousand for the lot."

Ben gives Sus the hairy eyeball, but at least he doesn't say anything snarky to her this time. Probably because she done good. His cigarette is almost done, and rather than putting it out, he just takes the one he keeps behind his ear and lights it off the old one. He can't sit still, either, so he starts stalking around the other crates, checking them. Checking not just the metal, but the crates themselves. Just in case.

He just still can't believe that a deal can run smoothly. The last deal for supplies he was privy to ended in explosions and death!

There's an opportunity for a dramatic eye roll for Trilliam in the middle of all this. Eyes are cut over to Sira and then rolled back the other direction. "No way that's happening to me twice." It almost sounds like a good rebuttal except for the part where he's admitting that it even happened in the first place. Maybe he should've just went with the first option: Deny Deny Deny.

He does a slight neck craning when there's some appraising going on. The chewing of his gum a little less obnoxious now that its been called out. He doesn't even blow a bubble this time. He just chews softer and quieter. And maybe even carefuller.

A pick of her booted foot up and she taps the toes against the ramp. Her head staying forward as she uses the HUD of her helmet to do much of the looking around. Her foot steps down, a shuffle backward and she drags her foot along the surface to make sure it's secured to the floor. <"Sure, Jinz. I swear if I have to scrape it off my boot again because you choked on it, coughed it up, and lost in on the floor..."> Another sweep of he eyes over the HUD, checking some of the firing lines.

It's not that she expected every talk to end in a fire fight...

She just expected every fight to end in a firefight. <"Vod."> She adds in way of greeting to Dailo. "Have you heard the one about the Mandalorian farmers off on Naboo? They have added to their creed.

Her helm turns a bit, looking toward Dailo in an oblique way, <"This is the hay.">

<"Ha."> Dailo's laugh comes as a surprise, as much to her as it would be to anyone else. She stays near the other Mandalorian for now, letting the others appraise and haggle as they would. It was clear she was here for moments where more.. aggressive negotiations were required.

The very notion of haggling seems to please the Muun and thus Tutol's fingers go from steepled to curled lightly against her palms. Head ticking side to side while her compatriots look to her, movements fractional but seeming meaningful.

"Two hundred fifty, why that seems fairly robbery when this could easily fetch three twenty five would it not?" The inspection complete the binary lifters begin closing up the crates again and the rest of the bay seems to have quieted. Watching the goings on most interestedly.

Ben was wandering around a little -- catching the tail end of the Mandalorian Comedy Hour, even if it wasn't aimed at him. And he has to snort and shake his head because, well. Dad jokes gonna Dad Joke. But he eventually ends up back at Will, having tossed his cigarette away. Five stayed where he was, keeping an eye on everything for Ben.

Staying quiet isn't really his style, and something finally breaks. "That's a lot of metal," he notes, glancing up at the Muun. "Where'd you get it?" This may be Ben's version of haggling, such as it is.

"That was /one/ time." Trilliam has almost forgotten about the reason why they are actually here. He's already fighting through flashbacks of that exact time that is being rehashed. He even goes so far as to stick out his tongue in that direction... and out comes his gum. Hitting the ground and the frown that follows is so annoyed. He just shakes his head and starts patting himself down for another piece.

Yeah... Sira has a few roles that she fills. Pilot. Shooting at things. Shooting at things while flying. Things of that nature. Diplomacy? Not so much! Haggling? Only if there's a blaster involved! She turns her head a little back the other way, making it look like he rhead wasn't moving much while she was really keeping an eye on the lines of fire. 

<"You know, I heard about a great new cybernetics shop."> A beat, <"It's a second hand store.">

<"One time too many, Trilliam."> She tilts her head a bit, <"Pretty sure it got stuck in a Mouse droid's wheels after that. Gunked it all up. Had to get Maintenance in on it. Then three other people offered their services as experts. Before you know it, had a Colonel trying to use it as an excuse for a promotion.">

Sus looks at the person Wil is dealing with the mention of how much she claims it's worth brings a slight grin to her face, standard tactic in this type of business over estimating the value of the goods you're trying to sell in an attempt to make more off of it, she shakes her head back and forth, with the slightest of giggles. Before more of Mandalorian comedy hour hits and she just groans, her fingers drumming on her hips. Before looking to Wil and giving him a look that clearly says the product isn't quite worth what is being stated but at least its a closeish figure.

"Oh come on you know this stuff isnt quite worth that much, we are offering you more and taking a hit at 250k"

A flicker of a grin as Tutol raises onto the balls of her feet now that Wil has offered rejoinder and her compatriots are shifting again, looking to her and none another. Whatever interest being generated now making the very air weigh heavier with each moment.

"Oh I would greatly contest that notation of the value, ma'am. This is refined impervium, harvested here from asteroids. I can guarantee the worth of these items and I promise you I would be the one over the proverbial barrel at the costs you're opting us to take."

She laughs, as do the sullustan and human, fingers lacing before her, thin head bobbing side to side again.

Wil rubs his forehead a bit, breathing through his nose. He's thankful they're trying to help, but it's not going great. "Alright, alright," he says with a groan. "I know when I've been beaten. Three hundred. Not a cred more. I'm in need, but not so needy I'm going to let you strap me to your ship and do atmospheric entry with me as a heat shield."

This is his last cash offer. Need outweighs what he'd rather do if she doesn't accept.

He hopes she does.

How can this be? An honest deal, with honest people? No dirty deeds? No corruption? Is this the same galaxy Ben Relor lives in?!

Apparently so, because this is happening, and he's yet to poke any holes in the deal. He folds his arms again, scowling, and glances over at Sus. "Nice try, anyway." It's almost a compliment, for her attempt at bluffing them.

Trilliam is holding the piece of gum up in front of his mouth. He hasn't even gotten a chance to bite it and Sira's Storytime has him staring at the gum like it may be the enemy or something close to that. He shakes his head. "I think you might've just ruined gum for me." Cue the sarcasm. "Thanks for that." He ends up tucking the piece of gum back into one of his pockets.

A comedic timing pause later and Trilliam is offering an aside query, "... Which Colonel?" Because now he just has to know.

Sira isn't particularly surprised, but is a /little/ surprised. It seems like every time she shows up places, explosions or blaster fire or just a plain old fist fight breaks out. The fact that it's not happening this time? Well, that's a bit of a blessing. <"Huh? Oh, I think his name was Sanders. Either way, don't be that guy that gets the good idea fairy promoted. Up to our shebs in that. . ."> Another shift, another glancing through the people around and all the while trying to keep her head moving too much. It paid to keep them guessing which way she was looking.

A pitfall indeed, Mr. Relor! Now if you decide to rob these people you're robbing legitimate business people! People who toil to keep the poors beneath them poor and line their pockets without trying to scam their prospective buyers.

You dirty mean criminal person you!

At Wil's finality of offer and then Sus coming in from the wings with a better line of argumentation, Tutol's hads raised - fingertips touching the center of her lips while it is taken into consideration. Brow still raised before she motions to the lifters.

"Two seventy five... Not a decicred less..." Bowing after that she gives a polite nod before simply turning to return to the depths of the station.

It's a small loss, cost wise, for the rebellion. But not as great as prices had been. A delay in some areas. But a significant advance elsewhere.