Ask Don't Blow Your Creds

[Inès]

Nar Shaddaa, 16:00 local time, the Hutt's Gut

Inès was light on money. It'd been a beans and rice and ramen kind of week, and the week before that, and before that one too. She'd pop into the House from time to time to catch up with the other Children — and more importantly, stay for dinner — but it wasn't an ideal situation and she'd much rather spend her money on spray paint, explosives, and good grub. So, here she was again, waiting in a seedy little bar called the Hutt's Gut in Nar Shaddaa's belly, waiting for someone to show up.

The indigo twi'lek was seated off in a corner, swirling a cheap beer around its glass with one hand while her other was preoccupied with her shit brick of a phone. She was scrolling through gBay, looking at parts up for sale or auction. While she scavenged most of the materials she used to make her explosives from junkyards or other places, certain things were best bought off someone else, like chemical compounds for example. As much as she lived for the thrill of danger, blowing her face off because she was messing with something she thought was one thing but was actually another didn't fit her standard of fun.

So, gBay it was. Until whoever it was got here, at least. "Where are they anyways?"

She was informed of this job by an acquaintance of hers. Something about needing an "explosives expert". While Inès was far from an expert, she had no qualms about listening to whoever this dude was and what he wanted. She needed the money, after all. She was always needing money.

The twi'lek adjusted her hoodie and went back to scrolling on her phone, glancing toward the entrance of the bar every so often. She was on Galaxygram now looking at photos of murals some of her friends had thrown up around the city and had photographed to share. She liked a few, practically itching to ditch this meeting to go tag some walls herself.

@Charles

 

[Boden Wills]

Vivienne was not happy with cheap-skates who thought they were clever enough to swindle a crime boss. She had a deal with an artifact-hunting business, AHB, that had been prominent enough in the Outer-Rim to catch her eye. Unfortunately, the cover is never the book. They sold Boden's boss a fake and refused to give out refunds. So, V sent the cyborg Enforcer to finish business. Their assets were contained in some bank on Nar Shaddaa. Boden's task was simple;

Destroy the bank. Take whatever you can. Destroy AHB's economy.

However, this wasn't a job even Boden wanted to do alone. Boden preferred working alone when it was warranted, but jobs like these required at least two sets of hands. Boden's and someone else's to shift the blame to should the mission fail. Not that Boden planned on failing. So, the Anzat-Borg looked for amateurs under the guise of 'New Talent' and he found someone that fit the bill. A nobody Twi-lek proficient enough in explosives to get the job done.

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It didn't take long for Boden to arrive at the Hutt's Gut, and it was nice to see that the tail-head arrived earlier than he did. That gave him two impressions; She was professional enough to take this meeting seriously, and she was desperate enough to take the job. He would take his seat across from her, dressed in his work-out (A black tank-top with baggy cargo pants) attire and a duffel bag with his blaster pistol and two clown masks instead of anything nice. This wasn't an exclusive club, after all.

"You're the punk I hired?" He tried to confirm this was her and not a stand in. "I am Iron." Boden's voice box was tuned to a more deep and vicious sounding voice instead of his original voice. "Do you understand what we're getting into? Are you okay with the inevitable blood that will be on your hands? I don't have time for weak-willed street rats." The Enforcer came across rather crude for a reason. These two would have to trust each other with their lives. Very seldom did Boden give teenagers the benefit of a doubt.

@lizziie

 

[Inès]

A six foot eight hunk of metal and flesh was hard to miss. Boden, upon spotting where the indigo twi'lek was seated, would be met with two intense, differently colored eyes. She watched him steadily for a few moments, then glanced away while she tucked her phone away.

While Boden was in his workout clothes, Inès was quite covered up. She wore an oversized black sweatshirt with the hoodie up, a pair of black cargo pants, and her usual paint-stained boots. A cross body bag was slung around her chest, though the actual bag was hanging more toward her side as if there was some weight to it. Her lekku fell down over her shoulders onto her chest, and she regarded him with what could only be described as amusement behind her dark sunglasses.

Inside that bag was her pistol, a few cheeky little explosives, and a can of spray paint. Was it safe to have all that right next to each other? Sure, as long as no one shot it.

"Only a punk if that's gonna be my little nickname for this shit," she retorted as she uncrossed her legs and set her elbows on the table. She rested her chin in her hands and glanced upward over her glasses at the cyborg.

At the mention of danger, blood on her hands, whatever, Inès — or rather, "Punk" — rolled her eyes and leaned back into her chair. "I mean, no disrespect Mr. Borg, but no shit. It's fucking Nar Shaddaa." Anyone who didn't have blood on their hands directly or indirectly was living a life of privilege in a place like this. A grin crept up onto her dark lips, showing off sharp pearly whites. "I've got no qualms with danger," she clarified.

The twi'lek briefly glanced over toward the bar, as if to confirm they weren't being eavesdropped on, then looked back at Bodan. "But I don't like to beat around the bush. What's the job?"

@Charles

 

[Boden Wills]

"Then we understand each other." Boden's voice dramatically changed to it's regular baritone. Inès seemed like the perfectly candidate for this little heist. Hearing the name 'Mr. Borg' earned a slight smirk from the Enforcer, but it faded as quickly as it appeared. Boden wasn't the type to show what he was feeling, and when it did happen, it was usually brief and easily missed by the unperceptive. Inès seemed to be the perceptive type, however.

"We're crippling a company of cheap-skates," His volume lowered after understanding the Twi'lek's gesture. "Many will perceive it as a bank robbery, but the goal is to destroy the bank and it's assets entirely." This would force AHB to sell over their company to Vivienne where Crimson Dawn could use another seemingly innocent front to their advantage. Boden didn't think mentioning this to Inès was worth it, however. This wasn't a recruitment job- this was simply aggressive expansion and nothing else. If Inès proved to be a worthy ally, Boden would add her to his list of specialized contacts.

"There will most likely be needless civilian casualties, but if you're as good with IEDs as I've been told, this should be an easy in-n-out type of deal." Then Boden placed the duffel bag on the table and unzipped it. If Inès peered into it, she would find the two clown masks as well as the Cyborg's blaster. "I don't want to be recognized and neither do you. Take your pick. The blaster is mine." The Twi'lek would have to bring her own offensive gear along with the ordinances necessary for the job.

Any questions? I'll brief you on the plan on our way towards the target."

Spoiler: MASKS

@lizziie

 

[Inès]

Ah, wonderful, he didn't have a stick up his ass. Some of the wanna-be-crime lords, or whatever Bodan considered himself, were so convinced of their importance and inflated stature that they forgot that respect was earned. Not that Inès even really considered herself disrespectful there — she was just matching his energy — but, well, others might have.

"Oh?" There was a sparkle of interest in the twi'lek's eyes. Robbing a bank? Boring, overdone, and really easy to fuck up. Just blowing it the fuck up? Fresh, new, innovative. Plus, she wasn't going to say no to anything that meant she was going to get to blow shit up. Her fingers were already itching for it.

The twi'lek leaned forward to glance into the bag, to which an amused expression would emerge. "Clown masks?" Really? "Shit, I'll take the happy one." It was goofy, but he was right. She didn't want her face plastered on the news for this. Only idiots or powerful idiots didn't care about protecting their identities. Inès was just a poor street rat who'd lost any powerful contacts she used to have. Without Father, all she had was her wits.

"Alright, lead the way Big Man."

@Charles

 

[Boden Wills]

"Unfortunately for them," Boden began to lead the Tail-head to the target. "They don't use droids for security. So getting code cylinders to open the vault won't be difficult. We need four, and each one can be found on one of the four execs that will be present today. I don't care how you get them, but make it quick. Today is about quantity over quality. Make a mess if you have to." The bank's layout wasn't too complicated either. The first floor was were one could make simple deposits, ask for loans and such, while the basement was where they horded all of their assets in one super-vault. Blowing it open wasn't an option, so getting the code cylinders required to opening them would warrant either their success or defeat.

"The second floor is where those executives will be holding a meeting. Because there is only two of us, we cannot afford to handle too many unwilling hostages. I suggest pulling the pin on a few frags and giving the hostages a choice to live or die. They won't let go and it'll keep everyone preoccupied with them instead of us. When we finish picking off security, we grab the cylinders and make our way in the basement. That where you'll unload everything you have in the vault." If there was time for it, Inès might be able to bag up quite the bonus to what she would be getting paid otherwise.

"After you set the explosives, we leave. Not together. Once you are a couple blocks away from the target, destroy the mask. I'll wire you a transfer if the job is a success." If they failed, Boden was planning on killing the Twi'lek to cut off all the loose ends. That would be a pity though, because the Anzat was beginning to like her punk attitude. It reminded him of a younger version of himself. He grew out of it when Lily died, but hopefully Inès didn't have to.

@lizziie