[Closed] Hiring the Help

[Befallen]

(This is a continuation from the previous thread: A Proposition. Both TJ and Zorbo are invited to participate.)

Awaking the next morning with a slight hangover and a blissfully content smile crested upon her lips, the Falleenan woman slowly unhooked herself from her slumbering partner. As she eased off his bed as gingerly as she could manage, she spared a moment to glance upon his slumbering form. Her blissfully content smile broadened as she took in her partner’s sleeping form. She felt almost saddened to have to leave him like this. Without so much as a goodbye kiss to remember her by. However, as she found herself pouting, Xora soon realized that such affectionate gestures weren’t needed. Jack would more than likely understand her reasons for abandoning him so early in the morning. Chuckling softly to herself, the woman found she wouldn’t even be surprised if he appreciated it.

Cautiously and quietly, she skulked about his room, gathering her possessions as she stealthily stumbled to the bedroom door. Upon her arrival, she merely stepped through the threshold without looking back. She didn’t feel the need to. Sentimentality would ruin the moment and in that moment, Xora pictured herself as quite the rogue, which caused her to giggle as she glided down the hallway into a nearby lavatory. Sliding into his guest bathroom, Xora fumbled her way around in the dark until she found the controls and switches. Flicking on the lights, she winced from the sudden and intensely blinding light. Shielding her eyes, she moved to the large mirror situated in the room and surveyed her hungover and semi-drunk form. Realizing her current state and its unprofessionalism, Xora grumbled to herself as she stepped into the shower. For a time, she simply allowed the steaming shower to revitalize her before she washed herself clean, toweled off and redressed in her revealing gown from the previous night.

Without any makeup, except for what was available in her clutch and with her hair tied back in a messy bun, she moved back into his living room. Finding his stationary and a pen, she left him a brief note, with her contact information and the name she wished to use for this new business venture. Appledore Holdings Incorporated. If Jack was a clever as she thought he was, she knew he’d get the reference to the name and grinned contently from the possibility of being able to hold an inside joke with the man. After that, she applied her lipstick and planted a wet kiss upon the bottom, right corner near her signature before placing it upon his bar countertop and exiting his home. The ride down was rather unpleasant as it caused her stomach to do flips, however, she managed to hold the contents of last night’s adventure’s down.

As the doors slid open, she was once again reminded she was in a casino and assaulted by its presence. Grimacing momentarily, she moved away from the lift and navigated her way through the main floor. Even this early in the morning, the casino was packed with gamblers and those wishing an escape. Weaving in-between the lucky and unlucky, she clumsily made her way to a quiet restaurant located in a different wing of the casino. This was where she had arranged to meet ‘the help’ as she had chosen to refer to them. Two men respectively. One, an old acquaintance and scavenger, the other a mercenary-for-hire with Mandalorian ties. She had her reasons for seeking out both. And while she had already made up her mind on whom she would hire, it would be up to them to prove to her that she was making the right choice.

Walking up to the hostess, she asked for a corner booth and two additional menus. Nodding unperturbed, the Zeltron hostess obliged and led her to an open corner booth, where she took Xora’s order of drink. A bloody Mary and good old fashion orange juice. As she waited, Xora occupied herself by sipping her drinks once they were brought to her, reading the menu and thinking of the future and all it might hold. A devilish smile lit the corners of her lips. She was eager for their arrival. And, while, both were schedule to arrive an hour apart from each other, she wondered who exactly would show up first?

 

[T.J]

Rubbing a hand through his short chopped hair Delmon was anything but comfortable made apparent by the scowl he wore on his cleanly shaven face. He had been forced to leave his second skin of metal and electronics back in the confines of his ship save for the armor plated vest that lay hidden below his clothes. A unfortunate byproduct of the Sith's stringent inquisition against his people, having any ties to anything even remotely related to the Mandalorian way of life was sure to bring unwanted attention. He had grown wise to their ways in the months after the genocide, even within the supposed confines of Hutt space the Empire had eyes and ears. Over his armor plates he wore a plain grey shirt, worn loosely to help hide the added protection. On top of that he wore a black weathered trench coat, meant to help hide the assorted weapons he carried on his person. His pants, while quite ordinary, were military in style and desgin along with his boots. To the observer he would look like nothing more than some sort of hired help or mercenary, completely unassuming on a Hutt controlled planet.

It hadn't been his first time in one of the many casinos the cartel funded, but he still couldn't seem to get used to atmosphere that came with them. The sights and sounds that bombarded his senses were the polar opposite of his normal surroundings, leaving him somewhat agitated as he moved through the throngs of gamblers and servers. So many people flitting their lives away on meaningless things. It made the Mandalorian sick to his stomach at the thought of so much wasted potential. The horrors that had befallen his people seemed like a cruel joke in the face of such decadence.

Pushing through the crowd he slowly made his way to the small restaurant, hoping its interior had a much more layed back feel to it. All he had on the woman he was supposed to meet was her name. Lucky for him the restaurant's receptionist already had the name on the books. Pointing him towards the back of the room, Delmon have the woman a polite nod before traversing the room. Coming to a stop before Xora and the table she sat at, he stood awkwardly for a moment. He always seemed to have trouble when it came to formal meetings with the denizens of the galaxy outside of his own kind. In Mandalorian culture both men and women were met equally, in the rest of the galaxy he found that things got much more convoluted and confusing, especially when it came to the opposite sex. Folding his arms behind his back he gave the Falleen a curt nod before speaking. His posture was rigid and militaristic, indicative of his upbringing.

" Greetings Miss Rzardi. My name is... Delmon. "

He had chosen to leave his clan name out of the introduction for the time being, no sense in exposing himself in such a way so early on. Trust was something not very easily earned for the Mandalorian, even with the prospect of a decent amount of credits on the line. Sliding into the booth across from the green skinned woman, he folded his hands atop one of the menus as he continued to speak.

" I am honored you took my expertise into consideration when you made your choice in hired assistance. "

 

[Befallen]

Today appeared to be becoming one of those rare occasions, Xora wished she still smoked. There was something about the undercurrent of tension that permeated this place that agitated her. It was true, the woman never enjoyed casinos. She held no love for gambling. Xora enjoyed taking risks and living fast and loose as any other criminally-inclined being does, but gambling just never called to her. As her eyes swept past the open-concept restaurant and into the main floor beyond it she felt a tinge of pity grip her bowels. Momentarily grimacing, she cast her gaze downward toward menu and her drink. Her bloody Mary had yet to be touched, although her hangover remained to roar and howl and kick at her. Raising her glass of orange juice to her lips, she delicately and gingerly took a sip from it as the little hairs upon the nape of her neck began to stand up. The strangest of sensations assailed the tips of her ears. They felt as if they were on fire, yet tingled incessantly. Someone, she knew, somewhere, was talking about her.

Slowly, carefully, her amber orbs swept left to right around the restaurant. She absorbed as much detail as she could from the various waitstaff and patrons. No two were ever alike. And, yet, her gaze halted near the entrance of the restaurant where the hostess stood. A man stood before her. He was recently shaven, his hair was cropped close to his head, he wore plain, loose fitting clothes, yet lacked any sense of style. The cuffs of his pants were tucked into his combat boots. If there was ever a sign of a professional mercenary, this newcomer would be it. He could have been the posterboy for any number of private military companies. However, it was his agitated and uncomfortable expression gave him away. Despite his nondescript attire, it was his expression that singled him out. Yes, this stranger could pass for any PMC gun-for-hire, but his eyes gave her the wild sense that he was on edge, hyper-alert. Those were the eyes of a killer, a soldier, a survivor. Eyes that had seen more of the bad, felt more sorrow than the good or of joy.

If she knew nothing else about her first candidate, his eyes alone would have made him a shoo-in. She felt drawn to him, but not in a sexually attracted manner. No, he was somewhat of a curiosity to her. A Mandalorian survivor that seemed to have some sense and a healthy degree of paranoia. Xora politely returned his nod as he was led to her booth. When he arrived, she waved him to have a seat. It was clear from his body language he was uncomfortable conversing with her. It was clear he was lost in thought and thinking too heavily on what to say and how to act. And while, Xora generally preferred for those of the opposite gender to squirm before her, currently she did not seek this. If he was too distracted it would take away from her ability to assess his credentials. Despite the incredible bearing he presented her with, she didn’t much care for it. She wasn’t hiring a soldier. She wasn’t hiring a two-bit gunslinger.

“Mr. Delmon,” she began evenly and with an amiable smile, “please, do call me Xora. If it helps you to relax, think of us as equals. I want to get an honest sense of whom I am hiring. I need to know that you will be able to protect those that accompany us and help to ensure that the job gets done. I am aware of a little bit of you. Enough to know you come highly recommended and are worth your price. However, I require more. I want to hear the truth from your mouth.”

She paused briefly as she reached for her fluted glass that held the contents of her bloody Mary and delicately brought it to her lips. Before she drank, she entwined the stick of celery in her index finger so that it would not move and slam into the side of her face. This pause was deliberate. It would allow her to read him and make mental notes from behind her amicable and placid mask.

Gingerly, she set her drink back upon the counter as her other hand gestured toward the menu beneath Delmon, “Please, Delmon, feel free to order whatever you want.” Another faint smile. “Now, tell me Delmon. Sell me on what you can bring to this little venture.”

 

[T.J]

Gently sliding his hands from atop the laminated menu Delmon unfolded it and glanced briefly at the words and small images printed on the surface of the flimsi, his eyes flicking between it and Xora. It seemed they both were doing their fair share of observation, as every time he glanced up her eyes seemed to bore into him incessantly. In truth Delmon himself had been keenly watching his host the moment he sat down. Her mannerisms while poised and deliberate had a hollowness to them he couldn't quite pin down. She had the eyes of a predatory creature, cold and calculating in nature. A fact he would have noted regardless of whether or not her skin happened to resemble one. The whole of the menu act was merely for show of course, he had no interest in partaking of whatever dish the restaurant specialized in. Delmon was never one to mix business and pleasure. There was much to discuss, ingesting food would only slow down the process.

Just as he had opened the menu, the Mandalorian placed it back on the table just as deliberately. Folding his hands over it once more he leaned in slightly, resting his forearms on the table as he did so.

" I can see you are a smart woman Xora. You seem to already have an idea as to who I am, so I won't bore you with unnecessary details. "

Taking his hands off the table Delmon took on a more relaxed posture, crossing his arms across his chest as he leaned back in his seat.

"Regardless of what the galaxy might say of us we are not all savages, though my own clan might have fit into that description not long ago. We are... Were. Born of the dense green of Dxun's endless jungles. Among the fierce predatory beasts and unforgiving environment my people survived untold centuries undisturbed by the outside galaxy. I am the Alor- " Pausing for a moment he realized his host probably didn't know a single word of his native tongue. " The leader, of this clan. Only the strongest have the right to lead in my culture. That, is what I bring to this venture. "

 

[Befallen]

Struck by the honesty of the warrior’s words, the Falleen woman sneered beside herself. Normally, she would have kept such emotional triggers in check, however, the sheer voracity that edged his words disallowed that option. As her sneer slowly began to fade, it was replaced by a knowing expression as she folded her hands upon themselves and atop the laminated menu. Silently, she continued to watch him, noting the various things she discovered. This Mandalorian seemed intuitive. She wasn’t sure if it was her imagining or a fault in her mask, but it almost seemed as if he saw through her. Saw something darker and more primal in her. No complaints eschewed from her maw. No panic escaped her facade. She was perfectly in control over her emotions. And, yet, if he could see through the facade that was both troubling and interesting.

However, more pressing matters required her attention. So, she switched mental gears and began to calculate how she could seize advantage from his perceptiveness. Xora was as of yet unsure if her speculations were founded or not, but she supposed it mattered little. If the minor tremor of his lip and the twitch of his eye were enough indication to read what she thought she read, then she would be more than satisfied. With an even expression and eyes that lit with false fire, she extended her arms forward as her hands held fast together.

“Well, Delmon, I would say that what you bring to the table is most suitable for this venture,” she began evenly, “I admit, I like a man who does not mince words. Should you accept, I would like to bring you on board as my security chief. You’ll be in charge of keeping the hired hands in line, securing their safety and so on and so forth. However, in no way will you be a mere babysitter. I have need of a hunter. And, I believe you fit the bill. You’ll be in charge of navigating the terrain, picking up the tracks of our quarry, finding patterns and trails. I want you to find their den. I want you to capture as many as you can.”

Her hands slowly unclasped themselves from each other and were spread wide over her side of the table. She paused for the briefest of moments to allow her words to sink in. To allow him to understand and perhaps figure out where this was going. She would be intrigued if he could. It would show a higher level of intellect than what the normal hired help generally had. Not that she would respect him anymore if he had it. At least not yet. As the silence enveloped them, a subtle smile edged the corners of her lips, causing her to appear almost predatory. Was she egging him on to discover the answers?

“That’s right, Delmon.” she finally answered. “Capture. Not kill.” A smile appeared once more as well as a flicker of her eye. She was beginning to enjoy herself. If she wasn’t careful, the game would get out of hand. “I want you to capture as many of these beasts as you can. However, these are no Zakkeg. These animals are about as cunning and dangerous as they come. They hunt in packs and move swiftly and silently. They pick off stragglers if their prey travels in groups. They lead their prey into ambushes and dead ends.” She was baiting him. Hoping to entice him with her description of their quarry. Xora wasn’t sure if it would work, but she was confident enough in herself and her ability to read others to allow her to continue regardless of the outcome. For if she could not entice him with description, get him to see the challenge and thrill, then he was not what she wanted.

“I am talking about Vornskyr, of course.” Another slight smile. Her hands folded back in against the lip of the table. One slunk forward to grab her fluted glass. It brought it to her lips and she drank the blood-red cocktail. All the while her eyes lingered upon him, sparkling with facetious and genuine delight. “How much do you know about our quarry, Delmon?”

 

[T.J]

Delmon sat silently as his host explained in great detail what her plans for him were. He was sure she had a point, and that in due time she would come across it should he wait long enough. He had not come so far outside of his own comfort zone to play games, a strong hunch told him she hadn't either. Visibly recoiling as Xora slid her arms across the top of the table, he thought how odd the social customs were outside of his own culture. His time among the larger galaxy had been quite short in comparison to others after all, the better half of his young life had been hidden away among his people. Even as he joined his brothers and sisters in the Empire's war with the Alliance his exposure to the rest of the galaxy had been lacking to say the least. People were much less inclined to share their ideals and beliefs when being shot at. His revulsion was not out of fear or any sense of it, but rather a lack of understanding. The look of slight discomfort that flashed across his face passed as quickly as it had come.

Without skipping a beat the Mandalorian answered Xora's last question with a deadpan tone.

" I know they're supposed to be extinct. " Leaning forward again from his lax posture, his attention was quite captured at the prospect of such a difficult and challenging prey item. He was a hunter at heart, he always had been. Even on the battlefield the predator within him seemed to always find a way out.

" And you're quite sure it is Vornskyr? Correct? Not some far flung pack of Maalraas or other such creature? " Skeptical was putting it mildly. Vornskyr were supposedly wiped from the galaxy long ago. To have a breeding community of the creature was an invaluable resource.

" Forgive me for being skeptical Xora. I am more than capable of hunting such a creature, if in fact it still roams this galaxy. Do you have some sort of proof? Some small shred of the beast to remove any doubts I might have? I would be more than angry to travel half way across the galaxy chasing a pipe dream, as I'm sure you would be as well. "

 

[Befallen]

“Extinct?” Xora raised an eyebrow, feigning perplexity, “No, definitely not extinct, Delmon.”

From within her clutch she fished out a small holodisc to display the forgotten and rain-forested planet of Öetrago. As the world appeared in a blue, luminescence glow, it rotated upon an invisible axis, the size of a small fist. For a time it continued to rotate, before its name flashed across the holoprojection in Aurebesh. Afterwards, the planet zoomed out to show its home system and further to reveal the body of stars it dwelled in. Then, with a timely sip from her Bloody drink, an image of an Ithorian suddenly appeared upon the screen and a short, soundless story unfolded. Xora did not bother to speak as the story unwound. It revealed that many countless centuries ago and after the disaster on Myrkr and the holocausts and atrocities performed by the Yuuzhan Vong that the Ithorian had done what Ithorians had always did.

They rebuilt ravaged worlds. Öetrago was one such world. The Ithorians had set up a colony thereupon its soil where they brought in a new host of wildlife and fauna to rejuvenate the planet. And their toiling paid off. Öetrago was successfully revived. And, curiously enough, there came an image of the honest and good-intentioned Ithorians transferring the remaining specimens of Vornskyr to Öetrago to settle and thrive in peace, forgotten for all time. Then, as the small informational video panned out until only the Ithorian settlement could be seen, it eventually went black. And, right before the demonstration ended, Vornskyr of untold and unregulated amounts flashed before the screen, hunting, migrating and thriving unimpeded by anything.

Smiling as she set down her fluted glass, she continued, “So, you see Delmon. The Vornskyr are very much alive upon Öetrago. What’s more is that this world has been forgotten by time. It still exists in official records, but no one visits it. It is uninhabited by man. The Ithorian settlement has long-since gone dark. It is the perfect hunting ground for our quarry.”

There came a momentary pause where she cleared her throat. Following that, she continued, “Delmon, do not concern yourself with how I came across this information. I have my ways just as you do. I can guarantee you that they exist. And if my word will not suffice, then my money should. And, if still, you are not satisfied, you may leave. However, if I learn you take the information you have learned here today and then use it for your own gain, you will be sorry.” As she finished her veiled threat, and despite the firmness of her voice, she smiled warmly at him. She didn’t need to be overt with him. He was a warrior, a uncompassionate killer with lacking social skills. The only thing she needed to get across was that until word got out, this was her world to claim. Her secrets to exploit. She could only hope he wouldn’t take it personally. It was only business.

 

[T.J]

The gears within Delmon's mind began to churn as the silent film Xora had provided played out before him. The world being shown seemed as a paradise in his eyes, so very close to his home that his face fell into a slight scowl at the sight of it. It's visage brought up memories he would have rather left buried, even still he remained as silent as the film being played throughout its duration. The fact that the world was practically forgotten peaked the Mandalorian's interests, with enough leeway it had the potential of being a new safe haven for his people to seek refuge. His eyes shot up from the datapad to meet hers at her thinly veiled threat, his gaze cold and glaring before settling down into a more lax nature. Normally he would not have taken kindly to such a thing. This was a business proposition however, hostility was just apart of the process.

" Then you have me. Miss Xora. On one condition. " Raising his index finger in a pause. " A breeding pair. For myself and my clan. Give me this and I will hunt these creatures and train your men how to as well. "

Delmon didn't care nearly as much for the monetary aspect of the deal. Credits could be procured in a number of ways, gaining a hunting companion on par with a Vornskyr was far more valuable to the Mandalorian than any amount of credits. Having a breeding pair only multiplied the gain his clan would see working with such creatures. Though the evidence that had been provided could have been easily doctored, the prospect was far too good to pass up. Even if they arrived on Öetrago and found nothing the forgotten planet had it's own advantages.

 

[Befallen]

A charitable smile crossed the green-skinned woman’s lips as she listened to the hunter’s stipulation. If that was all he was requesting, then it was well worth his price. A part of her sympathized with the Mandalorians. The genocide they endured recently was due of no fault of their own. They could have just given in to their predicament and faded into obscurity, but they had not. No, they would not. Xora was confident in that assertion. All she needed do was look into Delmon’s eyes to see the fire that burned within. There was always a reason Mandalorians were set apart from the rest of the galaxy. Their culture had a great deal to do with it. However, there was more.

Still smiling, the woman clasped her hands together in a silent showing of her agreement and consent to his request. A brood pair was a cheap and small price to pay. Especially, when in the long run she had designs to farm out the animal for profit. “Delmon, we have an accord!” She began warmly as she extended a hand in order to seal the deal. “In three days’ time we’ll meet at the local starport. Then we’ll be underway.”

If there was nothing else to add, Xora would conclude their meeting. She would make smalltalk and hash out a plan of action with the warrior if he felt the need to. Once, he took his leave, she waited a short amount of time for her second prospective employee. An old business associate. Kelas Syn’ast. A salvager of great skill. Xora intended to use those skills to help build and prepare their defenses and as another tracker upon the hunt once its started. The woman was unsure of what his price would be, but it didn’t really matter to her. She was interested in hiring talented people. They normally didn’t come cheaply. As she awaited his arrival, she ordered breakfast, and when it was brought to her, she ate the three course meal.

 

[T.J]

Blankly staring down at Xora's outstretched hand, Delmon awkwardly extended his own as if to initiate what was in his mind an odd gesture. Instead he hand moved past her own and further up her arm, stopping mid way up her forearm. Clasping her green tinted arm within his hand he gave it a sharp tug, which to the unwary was sure to pull her halfway across the table. He had thought her gesture was one and the same to a Mandalorian one. A greeting where both parties grasped each others forearm before both giving a hard pull. It was a tradition as old as most within the Mandalorian culture, one who's original meaning had been lost to the ages. Some said it was meant to test each others strength, while others attributed the gesture to ones ability to pull the other out of a hazardous situation. Whatever its origin, it had remained even within Delmon's cloistered people.

Realizing his mistake, he made a quick apology before making his escape, quite unwilling to remain in such an uncomfortable situation any longer.

 

[zorbo]

Kelas stepped out of his hotel room, his hand passing a key only mere centimeters away from the door controls. Securing the door, he turned around with a long drawn out sigh as his eyes rested on the portrait crested in plum purple just opposite of him. With a worn plum purple dress shirt, black dress slacks and a grey jacket – He looked like someone who was willing to waste a great deal of money on just about anything – at least, that was the mask. Five’o’clock shadow crossed his face just as much as his longer hair draped in front of his eyes. He had meant to cut it – but decided
against it once he decided on a way to blend in. An armored man with a large pack on his back was not subtle. No, now he just looked like a bum.

Stepping to the turbolift, he patted the controls for a way to the casino level. He was due to meet with his contact in about five minutes, assuming that she was actually there. Early the previous night he had seen her green skin and her usual attire. Kelas had to admit that meeting up with a former business associate felt a little strange. Generally, he worked alone and if he did work with a team, it was a onetime deal. However, Xora and himself had more than one previous run in the past.

Lights and unrecognizable sounds assaulted his senses, but Kelas simply took it in stride. He was used to cramped spaces with loud noises – it seemed to be what he had to deal with on every planetary trip that he took. As he strode past a few machines, his eyes glanced casually from side to side. Watching, observing the crowd around him. Not one person that he could see was watching him. That was all according to plan. Depending on the planet and his reason for being there in the first place, he would decide on how to approach the situation. Some planets an armored nomad was normal, others it was just gathering more attention than needed. Generally, he liked to remain anonymous when traveling. It was something about drawing unnecessary attention that unsettled Kelas.

Approaching the restaurant, he found his contact sitting at a corner table with breakfast freshly served. Kelas had to admit that whatever it was that she was eating looked rather good, even for a small café in a casino. As he greeted the hostess with a fabricated smile, he nodded towards the falleenan woman. Passing by the hostess, he dropped his fake smile and let out a small sigh. He blended in, which was his goal. But it was so exhausting.

“Xora – never thought we would meet up again.”, Kelas said flatly as he looped his right thumb into his dress slacks, motioning towards the vacant seat with the left. “Don’t mind if I sit?” he asked politely, with all intention of sitting anyway. He did not enjoy bringing any more attention to himself than he needed to, and standing in a restaurant was an obvious way of doing so.

 

[Befallen]

The sound of the casino slowly faded as the green-skinned woman continued to eat her large breakfast. Most, she imagined would speculate at how a delicate and daintily looking woman of alien beauty could devour such a large meal in one sitting. However, there was a trick to it that she knew. And that trick was simple. She was hungry. The meal had the advantages of being well cooked and properly seasoned to her liking. She would, as she reminded herself, have to compliment the chef. Taking another bite of her succulent main course, a smile formed upon the corners of her lips. Her Bloody drink was refilled by a passing waiter and a silent nod was exchanged. Time passed quietly for her as she dined. Her thoughts lingering on her recent victories.

She had begun to secure the framework for a new business venture. One that would generate steady income for her. She had made inroads into handing over her home star system to Borga the Hutt. She had recently absconded with a nobleman and and a vast sum of wealth. All in all, despite the pressures that were placed upon her, she was happy. The pieces were falling into place. Looking up from her meal to scan the open-concept restaurant, she spied a familiar face in the sea of the crowd. He approached dressed in a disheveled manner, but one befitting a businessman who’d fallen on hard times. The light stubble that graced his cheeks, the dull glint of his eyes and his misshapen hair all brought a delighted smile to her lips.

Pausing from her meal, she took a moment to rinse her mouth out with her Bloody Mary as she continued to watch her the newest piece arrive upon the ethereal board. It didn’t take him long to spy her and when he approached and asked to sit, Xora politely waved him to do so. Of course, she knew that Kelas would sit anyway. He had, as always, marched to the beat of his own drum. Still, as she watched him sit down and the strained false expression continue to take shape upon his face, she couldn’t help, but smile. It seemed to her that he had remembered some of the lessons she had taught him about masks and deceptions.

“Indeed,” she began with an offhanded wave of her hand, “I half expected you to stand me up, Kelas.” She smiled. Although, when it came to Xora, much as Kelas no doubt understood, determining whether or not any of her expressions were genuine was a feat that could tax the mind. “It’s good to see you, Kelas! How have you been? How’s that shop of yours and your brother?” There was a glint in her eye as she'd asked that question. Did she know the truth of what had transpired so long ago upon Tatooine? It was hard to say with her. Still, as she awaited his reply, she busied herself by returning to her meal. Before she began eating anew, she had a waiter bring over a menu and told the Twi'lek to take her guest's order. She would pay for his meal. Without waiting for the waiter's reply, she immediately returned to her breakfast, taking fork and knife in hand to carve up a particularly succulent piece of sausage.

 

[zorbo]

Taking his seat, he adjusted his clothing as he did so. He looked his part, but he wanted to make sure everything kept that way. Things seemed to be going smoothly so far - even using some of his contacts tricks on her. Deception, keeping your cards clearly in your hand and not in the eyes of your opponent. Conversation, negotiations were all just a masquerade - an elaborate game of give, take and cutthroat moves. In all honesty, he did not enjoy a moment of it.

One thing that kelas never could fully figure out, was how exactly to read Xora – or at least, read her clearly. He knew that he had a better chance than most – he probably was one of the few that had spent a decent amount of time with her – and not in a pleasure-seeking manner. That must have been a fat alone, right? He could not help but let loose a small smile. “It is good to see you as well . . . “

Kelas found himself sitting still a moment, silent. His fabrication – his shield - failing. Within a second, it could be seen clear as day that his brother – nor Tatooine as a whole - were not the subjects to bring up. Perhaps she already knew that. “Not doing well at all.” He said coldly, his eyes glaring a moment before his demeanor changed into the previous shallow mask. Shifting himself in the seat, he looked over the menu that he found on the table – ordering some caf and a skillet of some sort that looked disgusting but sounded delicious. Placing his order, he nodded in thanks to the waiter before turning his attention fully to Xora once more.

“So – what are the details on this job that you mentioned?” he inquired coolly. Now, his demeanor was slightly tensed up by the mention of a time that he would have rather just kept as a distant memory. Remembering that specific era of his life – was most unsettling and aggravating. It was a reason he did not contact most of his older business associates. As a way of keeping buried the dead and the past history that went with them. In his gut, he felt that this exchange was only beginning to be unsettling.

 

[Befallen]

So there it was. That expression. The pain. The grief and sorrow. The anger. Xora saw it all flash across his features. For a moment it brought her delicious satisfaction. For a moment, she revelled in her victory. She had caught him off-balance. The woman knew he would do his best to remain focus, but a man just didn’t bury the past so quickly. Not, after being confronted by it. He would not easily remain focused. Yet, deep within the pit of her core a small voice assailed her. As it grew in volume, a grimace beset itself upon her features. Kelas is not some scheming, conniving schmuck. He’s an honest salvager. Too honest. You should be straight with him, not underhanded. But, the game, the dance, they were part and parcel to her. To cast it aside would be like stripping herself.

Yet, as she watched the cold, chilly look he gave her and listened to the ice in his voice, she felt herself shiver. It was ever-so-slight. Starting at the small of her back to creep up her subtle ridges of her spine until it spread like wildfire across her shoulders. For some reason that small voice had made her feel ashamed. She’d known Kelas from back in the day. From when her grand schemes and designs were just whispers of a dream, shared only in drunken revelry. Back then, Xora had plied her trade in every backwater corner known to mankind. Sullying her goddess-given gifts to get by. It was largely through her bosses that she’d come into contact with the noble and honest scavenger. A wistful glint took to her eye as she glanced at her nearly empty glass.

“My apologies, Kelas.” she began. It sounded odd coming from her and she felt odder still in saying it. Uncharacteristically, she appeared and was genuine. Although, whether Kelas would see it as such she could not say and only hope. “Sometimes, I forget that you are not from the world I am. That you do not see this galaxy as I do.” Xora continued, her eyes rising to meet his. A wan smile appeared upon her lips. “Has anyone ever told you you’re too damned honest to consort with criminals?” An attempted joke to make light of her earlier mistake.

Shuffling her legs uncomfortably beneath the table, she nearly coughed feeling entirely embarrassed and foolish. Yet, moments before it could truly set in, her mask had reformed. Her expression became, once more engineered, manufactured. She appeared professional, serious. On to business and all of that; there was a task at hand that need addressing. The smalltalk could be set aside for now. Although, as she privately considered her error, she wondered if it could be picked up again upon the conclusion of business.

“Kelas, as you know I have a proposal for you. I am in need of your services and talents. I have formed an expedition of sorts. A safari if truth be told. My aim is a small, forgotten world, Öetrago. Located at M-16 on official galactic starcharts, it is a largely forgotten world.” As she spoke, her hands moved to the small holodisc that had quietly sat at the center of the table unused. Just as before with a simple touch of a button a silent video began to play. It jumped to life, to bathe the area before them in a square foot of blue holographic color. It displayed the world Öetrago. “This world, like many millennia past was ravaged by the Yuuzhan Vong. And much like yesteryear it was sanctioned to be rebuilt. Ithorians were hired. They did what Ithorians do best. They breathed new life into the world. They terraformed it in their attempts to return it to what it once had been.” The video continued to display and corroborated with what she was saying. “The Ithorians brought many things to Öetrago. Among the new flora and fauna were Vornskyr. You know of them, yes? I assure you they are not extinct. As you can see, the Ithorians more than succeeded. In breathing new life, they allowed the Vornskyr to flourish unmanaged. Of course, other beasts live here now, but they are not my concern.

“You see, I wish to capture several Vornskyr for some of my contacts. Among the host I seek to claim, I will need several breeding pairs. This is where you come in, Kelas. Don’t worry, I don’t need you to hunt them. I have hired another for that. He will lead us. He will teach my hired hands to hunt, track and claim these Vornskyrs. I need your skills, Kelas. I need you to build traps, cages and defensive positions. You will be my architect and engineer. You will be compensated for this, of course. Richly.”

As she concluded, so too, did the video. At its conclusion, the hologram dissipated to nothingness until the holodisc sat idle once more.

 

[zorbo]

A second ago, Kelas would have wanted Xora to experience a great deal of pain - if for no reason other than trying to undermine him. He was the honest salvager, one of the few he would imagine. Perhaps unlike others, brushing shoulders with criminals was the part of his business that he enjoyed least. Criminals tended to want everything for less, for free and if they did not get what they wanted, they would try to take it from you. Try being the key word. At the end of the day, he had to remind himself that it was criminals - not any form of galactic authority - that had fed him since he was a boy. Being born and bred of the Outer Rim tended to give you a different perspective than others. Being a nomad gave him insight into people beyond what others would expect of him. Dealing with people was something of a choice, not a necessity. In the past, being a hermit of the dune sea had served its purpose. However, he was no longer in the dune sea. He was no longer a wandering hermit without purpose. Life had been better to him than that.

No, in that moment when he saw Xora`s perfected mask fail - he had to let out a small smile. It was not out of spite that he did this, it was genuine - just as her apology was. "Thank you, Xora." he began once she had concluded her apology with a light joke - something that he too had to chuckle at. In a way, he was the same. So many times he had said the wrong thing and tried to make up for it with a joke to make them smile. He appreciated the effort at the least. "Maybe you are right - but then don't you know all of us Outer Rim born are filthy criminals?" he said with a chuckle, waving his hand in a dismissive gesture. "Think nothing of it Xora."

As he finished his part of the small talk, he noticed her embarrassment. Was it due to her failing mask? Or because he had affected her that much? Kelas had to admit, that either way it made him smile a little bit more. Seeing this part of Xora was refreshing. As she moved on to discuss her proposal, he had to admit that at first he was skeptical. Vornskyr? They were rumored to be extinct, from thousands of years ago. However, his gut told him to believe otherwise. Not everything dies to easily. His mind whisked towards the Yu Fetts that he had been consorting lately. That and Ithorians were the best at what they did.

Despite his skepticism he continued to pay attention to the presentation that she had constructed for him and this hunter that she spoke of. He was interested to see who she had chosen, perhaps a Mandalorian, perhaps someone else all together. In his gut, he hoped they were Mandalorian. The Vornskyr would not be so easily tamed. As he watched the hologram, he studied the planets terraforming efforts, including the additional beasts that appeared. "To be honest - those other beasts that you care not to know about? May be the key to catching your Vornskyr. Learn about their prey and learn how they hunt and we can find a weakness on how to trap them. Likewise, I heard rumors that they gravitate towards force users." he mentioned, allowing the words to seep in a moment. "Either will make good distractions to lure them in with limited casualties."

 

[Befallen]

Xora was grateful Kelas had accepted her apology without fuss. It would make the rest of this meeting go much smoother. Though, still, as she focused her mind on her pitch, there were pangs of guilt. Guilt, for her, was a strange thing. It always bothered her than any other negative emotion she would face. It had its own distinct way of burrowing inside her to cloud and conflict with her judgments and emotions. The Falleen hated feeling guilty. Truly, she did. For her, there was nothing weaker than guilt, nothing lower. Yet, all of this inner turmoil carried on in the background. Nothing of it would ever appear upon the surface. She had, in effect, returned to her former self. Always juggling fact and fiction.

When she had finished her pitch a momentary silence formed between them. Xora allowed herself to reflect on why it was so different from the pitch she’d given Delmon. Was there some mortal error on her part? A false comfort in knowing that she’d had a past with Kelas? Or was it the knowledge that she knew he needed work? She was aware that he wasn’t especially fond of criminals. It was a sentiment she more or less agreed with. She, herself, saw herself more as a businesswoman than a proper criminal. She did what she had to in order to survive. There was nothing more required from her than that. However, before she could truly dive into her musings, Kelas spoke up and returned her to the present. Xora couldn’t help, but smile at his reply. She’d purposefully made it sound like she’d cared nothing for the other beasts.

Old habits died hard, after all. And despite being genuinely sorry for deceiving Kelas and trying to manipulate him, here she was minutes later doing exactly the same thing. This time her intention was to discover just how knowledgeable he was. Xora didn’t particularly wish for him to participate in the hunt, but the fact remained that she needed a hand that was competent in as many areas as possible. And, to her glee, Kelas seemed aware of the art. The smile she had chosen to show him was a mix of both genuine surprise and artificial embarrassment. She’d hoped it would appear to him that she had genuinely neglected those very key points. In reality only a half hour ago, she had gone over an overview with Delmon about what Vornskyr were capable of. Though, there was some truth to her earlier statement. She didn’t actually care about the other beasts. Not yet, anyway. If they weren’t useful in hunting Vornskyr, then they were not her concern.

After a brief and deliberate sip from her Bloody Mary, she chose to reply. “Huh. You’re right, Kelas. I hadn’t considered that.” A thoughtful look crossed her features. “Although, that does pose a problem. Vornskyr are generally apex predators, right? So, any injured prey should do. However, that’s not really a problem. The problem comes from finding a Force Sensitive to journey with us. I’m not Force Sensitive. I didn’t bother asking the hunter if he was. Are you? Because, finding a Force Sensitive would make things much easier on us.” Xora continued in agreement. “Although, I didn’t think you were ruthless enough to use another being as bait like this.

“Kelas, I think you’ve spent too much time around criminals.” She laughed.

“No matter. I’m sure if we need to go that route a Force Sensitive individual can be found. Otherwise, what do you think you’ll need to set up a defensible position? And to build traps? To my knowledge, Vornskyr are supposed to be frighteningly cunning. And they hunt in packs. But, I have faith in you.”

As she finished, she felt a touch of surprise. Of course, it was diligently kept from the surface. She hadn’t intended to tip her hand to him, yet her arrogance might have done so. Xora hoped her reply had been innocent enough, but she was never sure when it came to Kelas and people like him. They seemed to have far too keen an eye and ear for her liking. And, while, that was advantageous at times, currently, it could prove to form another wrinkle here. That was something, she was trying to avoid.

 

[zorbo]

Kelas pondered for a moment as he considered Xora. He had known her long enough to know she looked at all details before jumping into something. It was one of the few things that Kelas and her shared. Her fabricated ignorance would not fool him. She had surprised him with an apology, but he did not allow that to cloud his considerations. Xora, old associate or not, was still one of the most manipulative and dangerous individuals he had known.

“No, I cannot say I am a force user. Nor do I know any first hand. Convincing one to participate in a hunt may benefit the expedition as a whole, considering their connection with the Vornskr.” He paused a moment as leaned back, placing an elbow on one leg while bracing his hand on the other. “Survival has taught me that sometimes the ugly is necessary, if only to avert even greater harm.” It was about this time that his meal arrived, fresh and steaming – begging to be eaten. Kelas had to admit that he had been having a light diet of late, mainly due to his constant tinkering and working. Not to mention that he had found himself in a slump recently. Taking his que, he took a bite of a food and a sip of his caf. It was just like that, in a split-second moment that he already began to feel better.

Chuckling, he let loose a small grin towards Xora as he stated: “Criminals can be ruthless, yes. However, their overtly violent tendencies can only carry them so far. What separates me is not the violence, but how far I am willing to go. Something that we share, I think.” He offered before taking another sip of his Caf. As the conversation lengthened, he began to fall back onto old tendencies – like enjoying a caf, listening to everyword and every expression that Xora offered. In most cases, Kelas would be considered someone who had a significant difficulty ‘ turning off ‘.

“If we can lure even one of them into an initial trap, we can wound it and then use that Vornskr as bait to coax the rest into our area of control. Due to the pack mentality, I can speculate that they would come for one of their own. Once there are in possession the key will be containment. Periodic sedation will need to commence, preferably in injectable form – as it spreads throughout the bloodstream faster."

"I propose that in order to trap them, we use a combination of snares and cages. This planet – Öetrago – it has a great deal of rainforest. Air-speeders, shuttles I imagine will not be able to reach many points of the jungle floor. Otherwise we could use them as mobile platforms. So we set up a controlled area that we litter with forest floor traps, as to immobilize them for long enough to sedate them, perhaps even some sink pits to drop them into energy cages. Obviously, this is if we stage an area. No automated defense systems – they are too predictable, so they would be a waste of time and effort. Manual turrets are more effective, likewise could be planted on platforms amongst the tree’s. However, if these creatures are nocturnal predators, then we will need night-vision equipment. Again, the key would be containment. We create a contained area that we control in order to capture as many of them as possible. ” After that long statement, he took a sip of his caf and awaited Xora’s determination.

 

[Befallen]

A spark of mischief glimmered in her eye as she listened to his reply. Xora hadn’t honestly expected to fool Kelas with her feigned ignorance - the man was much too clever for that. He thought too much. Always in his head, and always carefully analyzing the situation. Overthinking could be a massive disadvantage, but presently it was also one she shared with him. Although, she was loathe to admit it. Xora, as most who’d spent any reasonable amount of time around her could attest, had a high and mighty opinion of herself. And why not? She got things done. She was willing to go the distance. To do the bloody work that most would cringe at. This was also what she had realized she shared in common with her old associate. Of course as she listened and pondered her reply, she wore a mask as always. These things, while bothersome sometimes, were well suited to her work.

As he spoke, her eyes shone with a intrigue. She was right to pick this man. He was willing to go the distance - just like her. He was willing to look the darkness square in the eye and not flinch from the horror. She liked that quality in a man. Many men, she knew just didn’t have the stomach for that sort of things. Most criminals she associated with thought of themselves highly, but were not prepared. When it came down to the hard, cold decisions, they faltered. She had not and would not. Although, it did trouble her to wonder where she would acquire a Force sensitive. As she thought of this, she couldn’t help, but laugh at the little joke he’d made earlier and smile devilishly at the intimation that had followed it. So far, she’d said nothing, just content to listen and let him read her. See if he was as skillful as he thought he was.

She shifted in her seat, switching her legs so that her right leg now sat atop her left. As she did this, she toyed with what remained of her food before grabbing her drink once more. From it as she brought it to her lips, she drank gingerly. Waiting, listening and biding her time. Eventually, when he finished giving suggestions, she smiled and waved at him dismissively. Xora had heard all she’d needed to hear. The details, she’d leave in his capable hands.

“Kelas, my friend,” she smiled from behind her veil, “I have heard all I need. I’ll leave the rest in your hands. Make the arrangements, yeah? How much will you need?” Sliding forward, she placed her elbows upon the table and steepled her fingers, before swiveling them together to form a sort of handgun. After doing this, she imitated a gunshot, and smiled at him again before resting her chin upon the thumbs of her clasped hands and stared into him, awaiting his reply.