[ Closed ] The Red Helm (Page 3 of 8)

In all honesty, Dres couldn't relax. Traditionally you had to share a drink with company, no doubt there. But it just ruined his sleep cycle. Maybe it was something in it, but all he could manage was tossing and turning. Eyes wide open he glanced toward the ceiling. The tavern wouldn't be closed till later...he was sort of hungry. Taking that thought he got up and dressed himself. Grabbed his wallet and went. Fifteen minutes later he was swinging the door open and parking himself right at the table nearest the bar. Kind of noticing the little Jawa from earlier.
"What'll it be tonight Dres?"
"Fried bird with hot honey. Side of those creepy crawlies. Glass of water if you still serve it."
The better food on the menu was in Mando'a. His dialect there wasn't so great when it came to food.  Sure, he could say just about everything else but the name of that animal.
"Here, a gentlemen already paid for it."
"Alright, I'll just leave a tip when I get done."
Warren of course. He focused his attention on the side dish, grabbing one of the more active ones. Watching it struggle in his hand, hundred legs or more scurrying for freedom. He dropped it in, crushing it's hope with a satisfying crunch. He finished the rest of quickly. About ready to dip a piece of the white meat, the obnoxious stench from the Strill oblivious to his attentions. He pretty much had zoned everything out. Until he finished he probably hadn't heard a bit of the conversations about the room, dropping the tip on the countertop.
"I'll see you later Harvey, maybe you won't be a waiter when I get back."
"Goin' somewhere?"
"If I'm lucky."
Dres stepped out, walked down the sidewalk. Burning the night air, right back to his apartment. Leaving five minutes later, gauntlet hidden. Datacard sitting patiently in a pocket. 'Same place, same time'. That's all they ever read. That's all you need to know.

Evaar actually giggled at Goran’s comment.  She liked this friend of her mother’s already. 

Nora gave the datapad a little push in Goran’s direction, the blue image of the ARC helm still rotating on the display.  “Like antiques?” she asked.

Saviin leaned back and casually twirled a lock of her lavender hair around one finger, “We’re gonna take a little ride to check this one out.”  She raised a brow in Goran’s direction, “Sound fun?”

“Maybe you could pick up something lovely for Vidya along the way...” Nora continued, “I hear they also have some fine Clan Tapestries where this helm is kept....might look nice in the baby’s nursery...”

(OOC:  Kyr’am ought to mention the fact that he’s a medic.  Nora would find that useful on the trip...  )

Nora reached over and switched off the holo display, “Medics are useful....” she replied, “Even on courier jobs...”  She arched an eyebrow at Kyr’am. 

Evaar looked up from her menu, “What?  You think we work for GPS (Galactic Parcel Service)?  You see any big brown freighters parked outside?”  {{A UPS truck just went by my house, LOL}}

Saviin snorted, “Don’t pay any attention to the kid” she said to Kyr’am, “You can come along with us.  And when Evaar falls and scrapes her knee you can tell her to file a claim with GPS...”

The green eyed girl shrunk down behind her menu, clearly hurt by Saviin’s remark.  It seemed to Evaar that her mother’s cousin was constantly belittling her and harassing her in front of others.  She treated the young warrior woman as though she were a child. 

Nora’s watchful gaze came to rest on her adopted daughter who was clearly embarrassed by the cutting remark.  The huntress’ lips pursed for a moment, then she reached out and pulled the top edge of the menu down with one finger.  But Evaar wouldn’t look at her. 

“Jatne be te jatne, Ev’ika...” the huntress said.  It was the phrase Nora used to tell her adopted child that she was better than everyone else in her mother’s eyes. 

Saviin cringed slightly, “Aww...c’mon Ev’ika....Ni shi chayaiki’gar...” she said, giving the girl a little nudge with her elbow.

Evaar only made a face and pulled the menu back up to hide behind. 

Nora shot Saviin a nasty glare, “You don’t know when to quit...” she said coldly.

Kyr'am smiled at Saviin's comment and replied "If she's as good at shooting her blaster as she is shooting her mouth off, I think she'll do just fine."

Evaar rose and excused herself from the table, “Gotta go powder my buy’ce...” she said.  Edee rose and sauntered after her to stand guard outside the refresher door.

“Don’t let her fool you...” Nora said to Goran and Kyr’am.  “Evaar started fighting in the Vong wars when she was only seven...  She’s got a lot going on in that head of hers...”

Saviin frowned and picked at a napkin on the table, “I shouldn’t be so hard on her...  She never really had the chance to be a kid...”

Nora reached for her data disc again, “We should get back on task...” she said flatly, scrolling through information regarding the mission.  “The depository is located on a planet called Brozyna.  The facility isn’t known for it’s military relics.  Mostly what you’ll find here is a bunch of over-valued trinkets belonging to the wealthy.  Artwork, jewels, family heirlooms, and the like...” 

“So someone has a fancy for Mandalorian pieces?” Saviin asked. 

“Apparently so,” the huntress replied, “There is an entire wing supposedly filled with Mandalorian antiquities...  But this isn’t going to be a museum raid.  We’re looking at some serious resistance here.  Somebody really doesn’t want their toys stolen...”

(tag Kyr’am and Goran)

Dres was shown in of course. The office building's security leading him to Warren's private lift. Up however many floors he had about a minute of waiting on his way up. Taking the time to more carefully place the gauntlet. Redo the poorly fitted straps. It wasn't large but it stuck out like a sore thumb. Silver colored, it fit around below the wrist and right above the elbow. The break at the bottom, six holes on the top. It sort of got smaller on each end but that remaind slight. Door popping open he walked into the weakly decorated office. A painting along one wall and a meeting table that could fit at the most four people on each side with two on each end. Warren sitting at the far end with two other people.
"I present Anbu Dres."
The man on the right played with his glasses; apart from the two main lenses were all these little ones hanging off. The figure popping them in and out of place habitually. Completely white outfit, not the most attractive human he'd seen even if it was a male. Bald with a huge leering grin.
The woman on the left busily attentive to the sounds played into her ears from this set of earbuds attached to something inside her coat maybe a player who could be sure. Obviously unconcerned she kept one in. One of her eyes covered with a standard robotics eyepatch. The ones that can flip up at an angle, probably a scanner eye or targeter under it.
"Dres, have a seat."
He sat down beside the man.
"This is Doctor Zaren Kep. He designed your single armament and sold the design to Black Sun. He's just recently joined as an engineer. And to my right is Motoko Reith. Zaren's guest. But down to the datacard, I'll decode it, we weren't expecting you so late in the evening."
Dres handed it over, Warren dropping it into a slot located on the table, the card popping up again. Warren handed it back. Dres dropping it into a pocket. After decoding it'd take a navcomp to open it entirely.
"I want you to head out soon as possible. But I've yet to secure a starcraft worth mentioning. And the good doctor needs a few hours to finalize the equipment checks. Bother that it is you'll just have to hang around here."
"I'll throw the chairs together and see if I can sleep then."

Name: Zaren Kep
Occupation: Black Sun engineer/Treasure hunter
Age: 30
Homeworld: Coruscant
Nickname: The Good Doctor

Name: Motoko Reith
Occupation: Hunt sabatouer/techn specialist/treasure hunter
Age: 23
Homeworld: Dantooine
Weapon: Spike

Kyr'am leaned in asked, "What kind of defenses?  Battle droids, security fields, orbital defenses?  How are we going to get on planet?  Brozyna is a pretty remote system, so they might notice any kind of unscheduled arrivals.  If we're looking to keep a low profile, I've got a Lambda-class shuttle with some forged IDs."

((Why would my listener have a red blinking light? Plus why would you look under the table? I hate people who think they know everything by peoples post before them))

(I've been more caught up in getting my character started so I won't post for a while. I'm going to wait till' the bar scene is over...see y'all then.)

"Huh, that guys wierd." Brassk thought as he walked back to the bar to pay the tab.
"unsuccessful yet again" Brassk sighed as he unlocked the door to his apartment.
"maybe with some stroke of luck I'll be able to find some job tomorrow" he thought as he climbed into bed.

“Its not the planet that poses a problem,” Nora explained, “It’s the facility itself.”  The huntress inserted a different data disc and an image of the planet took the place of the rotating helm over the datapad.  “Brozyna is obscure but not deserted.  The entire planet is one giant illegal operation.  If you want something you’re not allowed to have, then you’ll probably find it here.” 

Saviin made a face, “I’ve heard of this place...” she said, “It sickens me..."

Nora nodded in agreement, “If it’s prohibited, banned, restricted, endangered, or down right inhumane, and can be found in the homes of galactic big wigs, then it no doubt came from Brozyna.  The whole thing is hush hush....controlled by rich landholders who cater to the wealthy in nearly every system you can name.”

The lavender haired woman drummed her fingers on the table, “As long as the rich and powerful get their whims, then nobody sees any of this going on...not even the slavery...”

“Exactly...” Nora confirmed.  “However none of that is our concern, at least not with regard to the mission.”  She deactivated the datapad and it’s images.  “Apparently one of these fat landholders has a fancy for Mandalorian artifacts.  Sources say he has amassed a sizeable collection, the finer pieces of which he keeps secured in the depository that we are going to raid.  I’m told that the place will be hard to crack...this guy is forking out a lot of credits to keep his loot safe.”

“Wonder what makes him so interested in Mando relics...” Saviin wondered aloud. 

Nora shrugged, “Doesn’t matter....he’s not going to have the collection much longer...”

Saviin’s brows knitted, “I thought we were just going after the helm?”

“We are being sent to retrieve the helm,” Nora advised, “However, anything else we pick up in the process is ours to keep...”

“So if this is just some fool’s personal museum, why do you expect heavy resistance?”

Nora leaned in, “Because there’s more than just Mando trinkets in there.  This individual is also a slave trader...and a lot of his “merchandise” is held over in the depository until buyers come to collect their goods.  Slavery may be banned, but you know as well as I do that there’s still a market for it if you look in the right places.”

The dark haired huntress took a sip of her ale before continuing.  “Getting on Brozyna won’t be hard.  These people are money hungry.  As long as we can show we’ve got the credits to buy, then they’ll let us through.  Besides, there’s pretty much a constant flow of traffic on and off the planet...shipments going out, buyers coming in....we’ll just let them think we’re there to shop like everyone else.  But what we’re up against at the depository itself remains to be seen.  I can assure you that if they are moving slaves...people...through there, then the security is going to be extensive.”