Ask Naboo Dee'ja Dealings

Carrick

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Dee'ja Peak was something of a study in contradictions.

It had once been the actual capital of Naboo and, now, it was nothing but a glorified farming town with some old-name families lingering. They stuck around for the prestige that the place used to have because their families had always been there. Most likely they thought it a mark of pride but he thought it was more likely they hadn't made the right decision to move like the other families had. And now if they moved it was like they were admitting to everyone in their social circles that their ancestors had been morons.

Carrick had never really spent much time around the place himself but his uncle had some friends here... and by 'friends' he meant that his uncle had some dirt on some of the lower families still here. One such family had given him a tip and he planned to make good on it. Sighing a little bit, he sat back to wait for the person he had contacted to arrive.

He had rented out a small apartment under the guise that he was vacationing in the 'cultural heart of Naboo'. The truth was that he had rented the apartment purely so he could meet his contact and give her the information she needed to pull off the job before they actually got to it. She had the door key code and she could arrive as she wished.

Carrick himself was merely sipping at some wine as he waited - his part of the plan might work better if he had at least a little social lubricant.


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Marissa Hesse

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That there was work on Naboo was something Marissa hadn't expected. Of course every part of the galaxy had its seedy side, its dens of dejarik and spice, intrigue and espionage. But the houses of Naboo really did put on a good show of being above all that. She'd come here anyway for other purposes. The Parnelli Museum of Art had opened a new exhibition, 'Treasures of Caphex Antiquity', that had some pieces she had an eye toward. And seeing a place before one tried to smuggle something out of it had rather obvious benefits.

To meet then the one paying her not insubstantial fee out in what may as well have been the Naboo equivalent of the sticks, farm houses that were hovels compared to the homes of the great houses that made their money and their mansions in the capital, was a slight disappointment. Still, it was paying work, and as she and Preef built up the capital to escape the Syndicates they could never have too much now, could they?

Still, it'd be unlikely she'd run into anyone like that out here. Indeed, it had been some time since she'd been operating of her own accord, and in all honesty it felt strange. There was a comfort in knowing that the person next to you was someone with an impeccable blaster shot. Out here, it would be just her and her wits, though from the sound of things she hardly thought the job would be outside her skill set,

"Pour another won't you? I hardly refuse a glass of Solleu '99" she commented on the bottle her employer supped at before taking a seat across from him.

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Carrick

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She had arrived and she hadn't been late at all - he liked that.

The fact that she was also a very attractive human woman wasn't lost on him but, for now, it had no baring on their actual meeting or his reason for calling her in. She seemed a little light on equipment for the job but who was he to judge? He was dressed, as he always was, with all that that implied, complete with his very open carrying of the lightsaber at his hip. Shifting his cape slightly, he set his own glass down.

"Of course, where are my manners?"


Picking up the bottle with one hand, he accepted a new glass with the other - a glass he had levitated across the room to his waiting hand with the Force. He expertly poured her a glass, twisting the bottle as he did so to ensure that it did not drip even slightly. Setting the cork back into the bottle with the Force, he set her glass down on the table between the two of them.

The wine bottle floated back to the cabinet even as Carrik himself took a sip of his own wine.

"I am going to be meeting with a government official at his home in about an hour - your job is to use the distraction I provide to secure copies of all of the data he holds on his work station datapads and consoles."


He smiled a little bit.

"You will then deliver them to me, back here, and I shall pay you the remaining 80% of the agreed fee. If this is agreeable, I shall wire you the 20% initial fee now. Any questions?"



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Marissa Hesse

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Well, she certainly hadn't been informed that her employer was a Jedi, or Sith, or whatever variation on interstellar wizardry he represented. And looking at the laser sword on his hip, she was professional enough not to comment on it, even though it did raise plenty of questions about the whole thing.

Curious though, she thought, if one could make objects wander through the air at will what the limit was on such abilities. What use was a person like her to someone who could do that, outside of simply being another body to put somewhere. Still, these were questions that didn't pertain to today, she'd spent enough time in the Syndicates to know you simply did as was asked when the going was good. And indeed, in its quiet way this was her stepping out of the Syndicates shadow, and that brought her some peace either way,

"Muja fruit on the back of the palate, very nice" she smiled contentedly as she finished tasting the wine, a strong vintage it was, and wines from this part of the galaxy had hardly been on the table so frequently in the Outer Rim, so she savored that. But as he explained the work, it sounded straight forward enough: slice, save the data, and get back. Nothing she couldn't handle between her blaster and security spike, or so she imagined,

"Clear as day" she replied with a smirk "If I need to contact you while we're inside... perhaps an earpiece of something" she offered, it could possibly be useful in case either ran into trouble, though they could get by without it if not.

Otherwise, no matter his reply, she enjoyed one last sip of the wine, before rising,

"Lead the way then"


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Carrick

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The wines of Naboo were something of a closely guarded secret around the Galaxy - people knew that they were good, yes, but they were produced in such low numbers that most bottles never made it off planet. One of the advantages of being back 'home' on Naboo was that he had abundant access to the bottles. After all, there weren't actually few of them... but if there was an artificial shortage it meant they could be sold for far more off-planet.

Such a lovely little scam wine was.

Reaching into the folds of his jacket, he retrieved a pair of com-links that fitted into the inside of the ear. They were designed to be discrete and they were; once worn you would have to be looking directly into the ear to actually see the thing. And most people tended to only do that if they were already looking for something.

"I'll be in conversation with the target so keep an ear out for me speaking to you - it will likely sound like it's part of the conversation I am already having but I'm sure you'll pick up on the truth."


He took the time to finish his glass before nodding and leading her out of the apartment and into the streets. It was clear that the place had once been a central point for Naboo but now it was in decline. He pointed out the building to her, a rather old looking statehouse that had likely been beautiful several centuries ago.

"The man we're targeting is a record keeper for the royal family. For the highest seats of government."
he grinned at her, "I'm not sure how I would break in myself but I look forward to hearing about how you manage it in the future."

With that said he would leave her to make her own entrance as he walked boldly up to the front of the house. He was, after all, an expected guest about to have a lovely conversation with the man in question.


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Marissa Hesse

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It was all very cloak and dagger now wasn't it? She enjoyed that about it actually. Whatever it was she was assisting in had all the signs of some political espionage going down, and it was admittedly rather fun to play a part in all that. What exactly he needed the information for, well, she didn't know and didn't need to, though she would be lying if she said she wasn't going to at least skim the data she was stealing as she did so.

Still, he didn't need to know that.

The building itself had at one time been a stately place, an aristocrat lording over his workers in the fields below, or whatever the equivalent work here was on Naboo. What exactly the planet put out bewildered her, except for the wine of course.

Still, she wasn't about to get distracted,

"I'll be sure to regale you with the tale back at the apartment" she replied to his last comment cheekily, before the pair parted ways. He gave him a wide berth, keep their association less obvious, and instead followed around the rear of the complex, wandering as if she was merely a tourist out exploring. A place like this, she presumed, would not be of want for a wine cellar. And often, they had an exterior exit so produce could load in directly, or so she understood.

That this place did indeed feature such an entrance to its below ground floors was a positive, that it was clearly alarmed was not. Marissa stared at it for a moment. Given the places decline, there were less guards than she might have expected, but they still patrolled regularly. She'd need to wait for the latest pair to pass before she could even try disable that alarm. Or, there was another option,

"Kriff. Here goes nothing" she muttered to herself, before stumbling out of the treeline toward two guards, appearing obviously flustered,

"Excuse me sirs, gosh, I do seem to have lost my way" she looked up at them, eyes wide and naive, voice soft and placid. They'd fall for it, they'd have to.

Presumably her employer was about to wander into conversation themselves shortly anyhow.

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Carrick

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"Lord Garza it has been too long!"

Carrick plastered on his most charming smile and the older man bought into it hook, line and sinker. Seriously, he had arranged the appointment to talk about buying a series of books the man had collected.

And he fell for that.

Garza was a fool of an old man but he was still tasked with some of the most important duties among the royal administration. It was Parvev Garza's solemn duty to keep all of the records of official council meetings between the current royal and their council. Alongside this, it was his duty to keep records of the votes and announcements of who would be the next royal.

The only reason the man had any value in the Galaxy was the only reason why Carrick wanted what he had. It was just simple supply and demand in his mind - Garza had the supply and Carrick was demanding it without saying a word about it.

"Indeed Carrick I remember the day your uncle introduced us like it was just yesterday! Why it was the same day that I..."


The older man kept talking even as Carrick tuned him out entirely as they sat in the parlor, sipping from tea cups made of some very thin, very old, china. He just smiled and nodded or hummed politely with the ebb and flow of the conversation, even though he couldn't really say he was paying attention.

Gods but he hoped his ally was quick enough.


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Marissa Hesse

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With a flutter of lashes and a feigned lack of confidence and clumsiness, Marissa had managed to press her way close to the patrolling pair, clarifying directions and other dry tourist style questions that left them with the impression of a harmless traveler. What she eyed though was nothing so pure. On the seniors waist was the security keycard, a short retractable cable holding it in place,

"I was completely lost! Oh, well its... that way then? I'll go, thank you, thank-" she fell forwards as if tripping in to the guards arms. She threw her arms around them, as if steadying herself, though her right hand quickly looped round to unhook the short cord and keycard, hiding the thing up her sleeve in the scene she was making. Looking flustered and embarrassed, she apologised profusely before carrying on the direction they'd given. She heard them laugh at her as she wandered off, a barely stifled chuckle at her expense. Good tihng too, it meant they bought it. And slipping into the treeline she let them pass once more. That cellar was now freely accessible, and hopefully a whole lot more of the old mansions passageways once she was in.

With a hiss the cellar slid open, a dusty, damp room that had seen better days. Though as with outside, the security system within remained reasonably sophisticated. A data terminal on the wall though was what stood out to her. The keycard granting her access, she kept an ear out for any nosy servants or such as she explored its files.

It seemed its main function was communication between the houses rooms, directing servants, assistants, that sort of thing. What that did mean, was that it listed every room, and what personnel were meant to staff each and every one.

How very useful.

Hopefully her employer was enough of a conversationalist to keep the man off the phone while she got to work.

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Carrick

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Oh by the Force, the Gods and whatever the hell the Mandalorians worshiped (the holy ammo pack or something?), he really wanted this conversation to be over. The man had the personality of an exceedingly dull, bland-looking, twig and that was being more than slightly generous. Carrick had been mentally making a shopping list in his mind as the other man rambled out. He followed dutifully as the man led him into his home.

"And, of course, this painting was done by my great aunt..."


And more talking.

Ugh.

The painting looked bloody ugly as hell as well.

"Gods damn it..."


Wait no.

He'd said that aloud!

He covered it with a grin.

"Gods damn it your great aunt didn't live longer and give us more of such wonderful pieces of art."


The man puffed up in the chest and nodded in sad agreement before leading him to another corridor to check out yet another painting by the woman. He had, accidentally, positioned himself as a fan of a long dead amateur painter. Oh Marissa had better appreciate the crap out of this because that was NOT how sunflowers were supposed to look.


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Marissa Hesse

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Every now and again she caught glimpses of her employers covnersation as she thumbed the earpiece, just to keep tabs on how the other half of the operation was going on. At the time he was not sounding particularly impressed. It made her smile, the apparently tedious conversation at the other end was awfully entertaining when one wasn't a part of it.

However, she had her own conversation to make.

Prodding the button for the upper floor, the little screen buzzed at the other end as Marissa read the personnel list and waited for the mic to click,

"Yes?"


"Isolde?" she read the name of the servant apparently stationed there that day "Assistance to cellar please, the Lord wants a bottle readied to take up for his guest just in case, come fetch it will you?" Marissa spoke sharply, trying to make it snappy enough that one wouldn't question it and just make their way down. That there was a guest she knew, that he liked wine she knew, it was a reasonable lie she hoped.

However, what it would really do is get a prying eye out of the way as she made her way up to the office, now with less opposition as she did so.

She heard Isolde's voice come down the stairs to the cellar, and as they moved to pick out a wine bottle Marissa slunk around her and exited, heading upstairs to Isolde's now empty position. That the girl might go and offer the wine was a risk she was going to take, with fingers crossed Carrick on the other end could bluff his way around it. Marissa knew the clock was ticking at this point, but she was on the same floor as the office now,

She was close.

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Carrick

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Thankfully alcohol arrived.

His host looked slightly confused at it being served but tried his best to cover it up, to pretend that he had ordered it and then it had just slipped his mind. But Carrick knew his mind. He wasn't using the Force to actively probe the man's mind, of course, but being a trained Force User meant picking up basic, surface, thoughts and feelings even without meaning to. So he recognized the confusion that the man was feeling.

He imagined it was a common feeling for someone as dumb as his host.

"Thank you kindly for your foresight to send up the wine."


Carrick spoke as though he was speaking to his host but he was really speaking to Marissa over the com link. If she was this useful at making sure he got out of boring situations while still doing the job he had paid her for? Well he could see there being a long and fruitful relationship in the future between the two of them.

"If you'll excuse my questioning, how do you secure the records in your home no less?"


His host puffed up his chest, no doubt proud of his defenses as he rattled off a lot of information about how he protected the records. Namely the type of lock used on the door to the records room.

"Really? A DZ-18 locking blast door? Oh that does sound devilishly tricky!"


He repeated it purely so his ally would know the make and model of the door to the record's room so she could plan accordingly.


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Marissa Hesse

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DZ-i8?

How... tedious.

Marissa had comfortably navigated the mansions long empty corridors, keeping an eye out for cameras and wandering servants that might give her away, but so far she seemed as forgotten as half the rooms here. Clearly there wasn't many who lived here alongside the Lord, only another sign of the places desperate clinging to life.

That the door was of such a recent model though meant there was still some vigour left in it yet, and not any all too kind to her today.

On Cantonica the safe door had been blasted open, a coordinated blast that had let them get the kriff out of there the minute they could. Such was not the case here, indeed nothing was to go missing at all.

Taking one last peek around the corner, she arrived in the mans office, though not without some confusion: there was no blast door leading to the records room, not a visible one anyhow. Concealed, it had to be, unless you really wanted to show off your power you didn't leave it clear to any who walked in. But a DZ-i8 was big, big enough it would have to be behind a wall or something similar, it wouldn't fit anywhere else. Closing the door behind her, the only thing that drew her eye now was the flashing of the Lords computer on his desk. Presumably he'd be able to unlock the room with something in here, a security option on there, or a keycard stashed away, though when she opened the page she was greeted with something she didn't have the faintest idea of:

Security Question:
>...
>...
Favourite Childhood Story?


"Pardon the interruption, but I, uh, need the answer to something" she whispered through the comlink to her employer, explaining the question.

Hopefully he could steer the conversation to answer.

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Carrick

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The man was a lightweight and Carrick was glad of it for a few reasons but the main one was that it meant that he didn’t need to be quite as subtle as before. Guarding his facial expressions was old hat at this point but that didn’t mean he couldn’t appreciate the freedom that came from knowing that the old man was getting drunk – so he wouldn’t even remember clearly what kind of facial expressions he was using!

Honestly, it could only be made better if the damned fool managed to pass out rather than just lingering like some incredibly bad smell.

“Oh your uncle was such a rapscallion back in the day!”

And worse still was that the man was insisting that he and his uncle had had some ‘fun times together’ – which made literally no sense because his uncle had never actually met the man in person. Instead it was just through the grapevine that his uncle even knew this pathetic sack of shite… the old man was getting under his skin.

That was the only answer for him losing his cool even during his internal monologue. The urge to end the old man’s life reared it’s ugly head but he breathed out slowly and forced himself to relax instead. He didn’t want to kill him.

A body would just make this whole thing seem a lot more suspicious to everyone else and the whole point of having this conversation at the same time as the actual theft itself was to prove that it couldn’t possibly have been him.

Speaking of the theft, he really wanted to know that his ally was done already.

“Oh I’m certain that the two of you tore up the town.”
He pretended to agree, “Was that from when you were younger? Your greatest escapade?”

Terrible job hiding the true meaning but he was getting slightly pressured here. So he had to make sure he could support her.

“Oh no that would be the Goose Incident!”

He relayed the information back to her but he was now, for better or worse, curious.

“The Goose Incident?”


He would come to regret asking rather quickly.

 

Marissa Hesse

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The what incident?

She shook the thought from her mind, strange as the whole damn thing was she expected, and ran a few variations of it through until the delightful sound of the computer unlocking before her and the screen lighting up in a mess of options and data. It only took her a moment to locate the records room unlock. Behind her the bookshelf hissed, sliding back across itself just enough to reveal a doorway that led further in.

She entered quickly, that they'd used the correct process to enter all but gauranteed there'd be no more security measures between her and the info. Indeed, hooking her spike up to the main storage block, she began a core download of all the items, generating copies as fast as the little machine could onto her flash drive, ready to slip back onto her person and get the kriff out of here. That's what you got when you paid for quality equipment, you didn't need much to get the job done.

As it did its work she returned to the main computer, searching for something that might make her escape a little easier, she didn't want to risk coming back the way she came in now, if the servants would be returning now. Instead she found the camera access to those on the office windows. A quick copy and paste job in the logs and the footage wouldn't merit a second look for the time she would jump past them, showing footage from around the day instead. A whir behind her signalled the copy was done,

"It's all on the drive. I'll see you back at the room" Marissa spoke with a fair bit of self satisfaction into the mic, before closing the window behind her as she slipped down the side of the building. A job well done.

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Carrick

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The Goose Incident.

Carrick wished he could have taken back the question but he really couldn't. Instead he sat there and listened; it was like watching a speeder crash in that he just couldn't bring himself to look away. To step away from the Galaxy in which he had actually asked to hear this monstrous story about the true horrors that geese were capable of.

Even the man who was retelling the story looked like he was having to experience some terrible form of PTSD. Just... reliving it over and over again no matter how hard he tried to stop.

When Marissa called to confirm the job was done he could barely acknowledge her.

"... and sometimes, when I close my eyes, I can still hear the honking."

He shuddered.

"The Honking..."

It was time for him to leave.

He barely needed to make any excuses really - his host seemed drained from the experience of re-living that horrible incident with the geese. A day that, even second hand, Carrick felt like he had barely escaped. Making his way part to the apartment, he poured himself and Marissa a glass of the best scotch the apartment had... before downing his first glass and re-filling it.

The Honking, indeed.


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Marissa Hesse

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She kept inconspicuous on the way back to the apartment they'd met at. It seemed both of them had done their jobs rather aptly today, and she had to admit it had been a while since she had done any freelance work alone. It had suited her better than she remembered, whatever foolish escapades she had gotten into years ago had been much more haphazard back before she'd started running with Preef. Sensing that improvement in herself left a sly smile on her face all the way back to the hotel room. Entering to see her employer knocking back an additional finger of scotch she didn't even bat an eye as she sat down across from him,

"Forgive the delay" she said, throwing back her own glass, as warming and as smooth as the undoubtedly substantial price of a bottle like that demanded,

"But everything is there" she placed the drive on the table and slid it across, taking up the bottle in her hand and moving to pour again

"May I?" she still had that smile on her face, they deserved to celebrate. And certainly did not seem like credits were exactly an object now were they.

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Carrick

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Carrick had to admit that he was getting really good at drinking away his issues - it was a fancier version of meditating on it like a Jedi would he supposed. Well he could tell himself that at least. It was, however, oddly the more socially acceptable of the two because people tended not to like it if you zoned out and became one with the Galaxy around you when you were in polite company.

He immediately, without so much as glancing, refilled his glass from the bottle before leaving it for her to take. Carrick wasn’t about to let her have the bottle before he got his refill after all.

“Good to know it all went well on your end.”


Sitting down heavily across from her with a sigh, he took the drive and hid it away within the folds of his outfit before sipping at his drink in a more subdued manner. He probably should get the obvious out of the way he supposed.

“You use what you copied against me and we shall have issues.”
he assured her with a small smile, “Use it however you wish but make an enemy of me and I shall have to take it personally.”

Did he know she had a copy for herself? Not at all.

He only suspected because it was the exact same thing that he would do.



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Marissa Hesse

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Marissa watched him as he leveled his warning to her. Whether or not she had indeed made a copy didn't matter in the slightest in that moment, only the clarity upon whatever ongoing relationship they might have. And at this point, it was in fact quite uncertain if they would. Still, she had plenty of her own enemies at this point, and plenty she knew the measure of. The man across from her she had hardly any idea about, except for his Force use as demonstrated earlier. Scant dealings with the Sith were as close as she'd ever been and she didn't exactly want to get any closer. Gangsters and gunslingers were much more her speed,

"You won't hear a whisper out of me" she replied directly before taking another sip from her glass savouring it,

"Of course I won't be asking about your own plans for it, but if you do ever have any other work that you need a more delicate hand for..." she slid him a small datacard across the table, if he activated it, it would provide a way to contact the Zaa Fenn crime family,

"You can reach me on Eriadu" she smiled politely before standing up, and stepping back,

"Unless there was anything else...?"

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