[DSC Daedalus] The Heist of the Millenium

[Clayton]

"Salon" Room 1, Hades Tower, DSC Daedalus
​

Hades Tower was a private seat of the Cartel on Daedalus. It was meant to, in part, serve as the local corporate hub for Praxus-Pondervan's Daedalus location. It also served as a secure meeting place for Cartel executives. With the tower's security being staffed by Cartel hired and vetted security personnel, and a variety of scanning devices, sneaking in something that security didn't want you to have was extremely difficult. But the true sanctuaries against unwanted observation were the two "Salon" Rooms. The walls, floor, ceiling, even the doors had been lined with sensor defeating materials. There were no windows to speak of. Sophisticated jamming equipment was nestled in the ceiling corners, preventing transmission from inside the room. Even the air vents had sensors and electric "fences" to disable droids. No wireless communication was possible from inside the Salon Rooms. In short, if you wanted a meeting and it absolutely had to be private, Hades Tower was where you went.

For an outsider to be given access, much less command of one of the Salon Rooms meant something big was going down. Bree'tor Suuka, Rodian Engineer, slicer, ad-hoc Manaan combatant, Insane Rebel Commander of the hidden Vergesso Base. Bree enjoyed his privacy, and the Salon Room was the perfect home for him. A pity he was only in temporary command of it. Dilara Senza had command of the other Salon Room, four floors up and on the other side of the tower. Dilara and Bree had conferred with one another, and decided that in the interest of security and compartmentalization, they would each separately brief two teams. The two groups would enter from different entrances and take different turbolifts to their respective floors. Dilara's group and Bree's group would not see each other.

Bree would be briefing Kal Varad, Tal Veren, and Aurelia Sovark. Neither of them knew the whole plan. Indeed, the only information they had been given was that they had a highly profitable job to do on Daedalus, and that they would meet at Mezzanine Entrance at Hades Tower. From there, a Hades security officer would perform a pat down, confiscate any datapads, communication, or electronic recording devices. They would be returned on the way out. Obvious weapons would be taken, but the guard would respect small, concealable ones, provided they weren't bombs of some sort. They would be treated to a final sensor scan, then accompanied to a turbolift, and directed to the Salon Room.

Dilara would be briefing Aura, Auren Sol, and Von Raythe. They too would be subject to the same security measures at Courtyard Entrance. One of the staffers waiting outside the Salon Room door opened it for a moment. "Mr. Suuka, security reports that your guests have begun to arrive, and you should expect them shortly."

"Thank you Carl. Alright boys and girls, do one last check of the equipment, and remove sensitive information from the screens. Time for Bree to get this show on the hyperlane." With that, Bree set a small holoprojector on the conference table, though did not activate it just yet. The device had been pre-programmed with all the information and visuals his group would need to know, and ultimately would not leave the room.

@BLADE @The Kyzer @Korvo @Phœnix @Prudence @Aura @Galavant

 

[Prudence]

Kal Varad walked through the crowded halls that acted likes streets inside DSC Daedalus. He bumped shoulders on one side with a Rodian, and the other with a Toydarian attempting to flutter his way through the crowd. He was wearing his stark red armor, with a long armorweave coat that nearly drug the ground. He had been hired by a job here, and was expected at a meeting in Hades Tower. The tower was officially registered to Praxus-Pondervan Enterprises, as a corporate hub of sorts, but Kal knew better than that. It wasn't often talked about, but it did circulate that the infamous extravagant tower was used for illicit business dealing with the Hutt Cartel as well. Personally, under any identity, Kal had never been inside the tower, until now. He stepped towards the base of the tower, approaching the entrance that had been detailed in his instructions, Mezzanine Entrance. He knew very little of this job, but if it involved Hates tower odds were it was high profile, and possibly well paying.

He stepped through the mostly transparisteel door into the tower, and was discreetly approached by two Hades Security Officers.

One of them spoke up, "Welcome to Hades Tower sir, May I relieve you of your weaponry?"

Kal looked over to the one that had spoken and shrugged,

"If you break it, it's your head." his voice was distorted, mainly by making it sound deeper and more accented, by the distorting vocabulator in his helmet, specifically designed to mask his voice from someone that may know Prudii's voice well.

He then offered his Funjin, which was strapped across his chest by a harness, he had left his sniper rifle in his freighter, thankfully so. The Verpine technology was fragile enough this numbskull would likely damage it while storing it and cost him thousands of credits worth of repair. He reached over to his gauntlet and unclipped the two missiles that sat in its launcher, and munitions bay. Then came four flash grenades, three thermal detonators, and one of his WESTARs, the one secured on his waist. He had another, tucked away in his coat. Likewise he had a blaster embedded in each gauntlet, and a vibroblade in his right one, all of which was fairly concealed.

The officer that wasn't burdened with the weapons Kal had willingly offered then performed a pad down, patting down his arms, legs, chest, and pretty much everywhere else they could. The man had clearly felt the blaster pistol hidden in a pocket inside Kal's coat, but hadn't asked for it. That was refreshing. His comm, and datapad had been taken though. Then the one that was doing the pat down looked up and prepared what the man probably figured would be a fight "I'll need your helmet sir."

Kal twisted his head and looked at him "My helmet? I don't surrender my helmet."

"Then I'll have to ask you to leave sir."

Kal paused for a moment, and began to weigh the situation. Luckily, he had gone through life securely enough that those few who knew Prudii Kyramud's face were former KES soldiers, men he trusted, and men that weren't here. He reached up to his head and tugged at the helmet, popping the seals with a hiss and removing it. He handed it over to the officer who handed it to his associate that was carrying the weapons. Producing a handheld scanner he began to wand Kal, likely searching for comm devices, recording devices, and concealed explosives, none would be found. Once done he pocketed the scanner.

"Will that be all?"

"Yes sir. Please follow me this way." the guard said, stepping towards a turbolift. He escorted Kal into the lift, and then stepped inside himself and keyed in a floor. They rode in silence before the turbolift came to a smooth stop and opened its doors. The guard motioned towards a room at the end of the hall "The Salon room will be your destination." The mostly disarmed, and partially armored Kal Varad stepped out of the lift towards the Salon room's door, waiting to see what would happen.

 

[Von Raythe]

Hades Tower.

One of those few places in the galaxy Von had always strove to avoid. Why? She couldn't really say, but she couldn't help but feel the cold malevolence that the building seemed to express to her and her alone. Other Jedi, like Arkantos Rajax, had no issues with the structure and yet Von Raythe, a warrior many said could not be shaken, loathed the idea of entering such a complex. So of course, this was where the meeting would be. Having been contacted by an old friend, the Jedi Master had been lightly-coerced into aiding this unknown mission. All she'd been told was that it was "ver' proft'able to they-uh mutual intere'ts" and had a high-chance of ending in total failure "wi'out Gaienne's 'elp".

Never owe a deranged Gungan cyborg anything, Von thought gloomily. What bothered her even more about this " 'umble request, cher" was that it didn't seem like the old Gungan's idea, but he was signing off on it. So that meant that it was mad, daring, and incredibly dangerous. As Von entered the courtyard lobby of Hades Tower, she wouldn't have been surprised if the mission turned out to be an assassination attempt against Andraste.

"Welcome to Hades Tower, madam. I must ask that you remove your weaponry and all communication or recording devices before being continuing onward."

Well, if she was uncomfortable before, Von's stomach was a veritable swarm of bees now. She debated asking why but she already knew why. It was the same reason she herself would have instituted such protocols if she was running this secret assignment: operational security. It did tell her one thing, though. Whoever was in charge was being as cautious as possible at this stage. This was both a good and a bad sign to the Jedi, but she had to put such thoughts aside for now. Nodding her head in acquiescence, Von simply removed the large chest piece of her armor and placed it on the guard table. She also removed her belt and the various assortment of explosives, lightsabers, pistols, knives, comm units, and other gadgets that she used rather frequently.

Deciding to test the security here, Von kept her paired lightsabers hidden in the hidden compartments around her inner-to-front thighs as well as the vibroblade shivs in her boots. The guards were quick to pat her down, but they were rather respectful when doing so. Von herself would have been more intrusive if their roles were reversed, but she wasn't about to say so. A few second later, she walked through a massive scanner without issue. It seemed that her choice of hidden arms had been a good one.

Probably checking for explosives, comm gear, and blasters, Von thought, attempting to resolve the unanswered question in her mind.

A security officer led her through another sensor scan before escorting her to a dedicated turbolift. The fact that the man had to use a combination of keycard and bio-print scans to open the lift was not lost on her. Within seconds, she was an untold number of floors up before the doors opened again. Another security guard was already waiting for her, and this one simply escorted her to a rather pleasant conference room or sorts, or so Von guessed. However, just as the Jedi reached the door, another door opened down the hall and a tall woman exited along with a small gaggle of people of various species. Everything about the woman screamed DANGER to Von, causing her to nearly draw her concealed weaponry. The woman in question simply looked over, smirked, then simply walked away with her hangers-on in tow.

It took every ounce of will and self-control that Von Raythe possessed to turn away and enter the Salon Room. Turning back to ask the guard who the woman was, Von suddenly found herself alone. Sitting down quietly in a free chair, the Jedi played back the encounter in her mind over and over again. There was something very familiar and unsettling about the mysterious woman that she just couldn't put her finger on. Her mind focused on the perplexing issue, she barely noticed anything around her.

 

[Aurelia Sovark]

By the stars, this place—this bloody place again...

This was Daedalus. The quiet, peaceful and secure Daedalus, and the most boring residential station the young Kage woman had ever been on. Everything was so orderly, so maintained and strictly controlled. It was like living in a stasis chamber where nothing ever changed. Nothing ever happened. It was the same, dull and boring thing every moment of every hour of every day... of every year. In all fairness, the galaxy had been at war for a long time, by far the bloodiest and most destructive war of her generation. There were plenty of refugees to be seen in the residential docks, so perhaps it wasn't unusual at all that so many people were attracted and drawn to the seemingly disconnected security offered by the neutral residential station of Daedalus. But Aurelia was different. She needed the danger, the vibrancy and desperation of 'normal' life. It kept her mind sharp, her instincts honed... and if nothing else, it kept things interesting.


"HALO, how're we looking?"

Trailing behind while hovering a few meters above her, a small remote pulsated as it scanned the environment, from the streets and skylanes to the structures and installations. It was forever her loyal eye in the sky, although for the time being, she'd only had it handling the mundane. Of all areas of Daedalus, the megacorporate business sections were among the stuffiest, edged out only by the political areas. Everyone in suits, everyone carrying around papers while on their holocoms. Aurelia herself refused to change her wardrobe to blend in, but she did have pods in her ears, blasting randomized music from her favorite sensory bands. Even with it blaring in her ears, however, Aurelia could still hear her droid's binary speech. Extremely acute hearing was part of the gifts from her rather unique heritage.

<<Mistress + HALO = approaching destination // estimated time of arrival = 4.972 standard minutes>>

Aurelia halfheartedly rolled her eyes at the overly technical nature of droids. Could've just said 'five minutes', numbnut. She would periodically intend to alter HALO's programming for more generalized speech relay, but would always opt out. After all, she never knew when she might need an extremely precise timetable.

Aurelia may not have appreciated the uptightness of Daedalus, but she had to admire its glamour. Dazzling lights, resplendent landscapes and streets. Everything was like the upper sectors of Coruscant... or at least of what Coruscant used to be. As the '4.972' minutes approached, Aurelia had finally come to the property of the building, Hades Tower of Praxus-Pondervan Enterprises. A legitimate business by all outward standards, according to Daedalus laws. But then, that would be considered a stretch of reality anywhere else in the galaxy. After all, even slavery was tolerated in some form on and through the station. And anyone with the right connections in the underworld knew that Hades Towers was a front—one of many—for the Hutt Cartel. That alone normally gave Aurelia pause, to say the least. For all her intelligence and street smarts, she had a bad knack for making enemies, including among some Hutts. She was fairly certain there was no price on her—not yet, anyway—but she made it a habit to not push her luck, even with the station's safety and non-violence laws.

"Okay, numbnut. Engage, protocol 013. Stay locked onto my location."

<<HALO = acknowledged // protocol 013 = initialized>>

As Aurelia continued to walk toward the building, her remote whisked off. Very discretely, the Kage woman tapped the center of her chest, as if readying herself, before she finally traversed up the stairs and entered into the building from the Mezzanine Entrance. She willingly entered a Hutt domain... something about that just felt wrong to her the moment she took her first step. Sure enough, there were guards everywhere. Private security, no doubt, but they were easily a cut above the normal Hutt brutes.

"Welcome to Hades Towers, ma'am. Beyond this point, I'll have to relieve you of all weapons, communication or recording devices and any datapads."

"Well, since you gents ask s'nicely..." Aurelia cast a playfully mischievous grin as she spaced her arms in a outwardly manner, almost as if tempting or enticing the man forward to her, "I suppose I won't bite."

As the security guard, at first somewhat awkwardly, patted her down, he first stopped at her waist. Examining it further, the security guard glanced back up at Aurelia, who met his gaze with a playful smile.

"Come now, you'd have a girl be defenseless, would you?"

Personal shield generators weren't weapons, but they could hide them, and the man removed Aurelia's belt from the hooks along the back of her waist, with Aurelia impishly making the process more 'uncomfortable' than necessary for the guard. After passing a scanner over the device, an affirmative beep resonated before the shield belt was handed back to her.

As the guard continued his pat-down, he stopped again at her chest, between her breasts. Aurelia simply smiled again with gentle cackle.

"Oy, just a family heirloom. Nothing t'schutta about, is it?"

"Ma'am, please remove the necklace."

Signing, Aurelia rolled her eyes, smirking, "Always such the seccer, ain't you?"

Handing the pendent over, the guard took the scanner to examine, the Kage woman kept speaking in a droning manner, "Yes, yes, it runs on a spark, but there's not a blasted thing in it that records, 'talks', or anything else."

"Readings negative on communication, data-storage or recording devices. It's clear," the guard said as finished his scans. Aurelia knew they were doing their job, but she couldn't help but think that if someone was going to listen in, they'd probably choose a far less nonsensically suspicious way to do it than a glaring electronic necklace.

As Aurelia put her necklack back on and under her clothing, she was brought to a final massive gate-like scanner. Taking a deep breath, she stepped through without incident. A smile returned to her face, with a much larger one stretching in her mind. "That the last of 'em, is it?"

"Yes, now right this way, ma'am," the same guard said, leading her to a turbolift as he escorted her to the Salon room. The ride was silent, with the man clearly uncomfortable around the somewhat coquettish antics of Aurelia from before. For several seconds, Aurelia simply rocked back and forth slightly, looking around the elevator.

"Might be a long ride. You wan--"

"Ma'am... please."

Aurelia laughed roguishly at the guard's awkward annoyance as the turbolift finally stopped and the doors opened.

Walking through, the Kage woman turned around as she stepped, smiling back at the guard before the doors closed. "Don't be such a seccer, seccer."

As Aurelia turned back around, facing a door that must've led into the Salon. The information she'd received was minimal, but for most jobs, that how the 'game' was played. Especially the fun ones. Especially best paying ones. Opening the doors, her curiosity abounded as she glanced about the room. While she caught sight of a Rodian, it was the Mandalorian that truly caught her gaze. Mandalorians were both hated and loved for one thing, and it wasn't ordinarily for their diplomatic skills or technological expertise.

"Oh-ho, it's gonna be another one of those jobs."

 

[Phoenix]

A quick glance down at the chrono on his writs-mounted datapad told him it was time to get a move on. He had come the day before to blow off some steam in the resort and casino section of the Daedalus, but now it was time for the real reason he was here: business. He knew it would take a not inconsiderable amount of time to get from point A to point B on the huge craft, so he made sure to leave himself enough time to cross the huge ship. It was actually easier to go to his shuttle, leave and re-dock rather than cross the 700 km ship, so that’s precisely what he did.

As he zoomed by and re-docked he took in the station again. The sheer size of the Daedalus never ceased to amaze him. The ship – no, not ship. City? Huge monstrosity? Whatever it was, it was continent-sized and floating in space. It was an absolute technological and engineering masterpiece. At least so Tal thought, not that he was exactly an expert on engineering. Perhaps even more impressive than the engineering though was the social accomplishments it had achieved.

Neutral ground.

There weren’t many places left in the galaxy where one could truly find neutral ground anymore. Whether it was the Imperials, the Hutts, or someone else, it seemed that there was one group pulling the strings. But on the Daedalus everyone was on equal terms.

In the distance he could see Hades Tower and the irony of where this meeting was being held was not lost on him. Even as an experienced Enforcer in the Cartel, his business with them had never warranted him coming to Hades Tower, and now that he was here, it wasn’t even on Cartel business. It was on some mysterious business that he had received a tap on the shoulder for through the Armada. While he had no idea what this was about, that in and of itself told him who it wouldn’t be helping.

But all things would be answered in time. He approached the looming tower and was met by a pair of security personnel, presumably here to ensure the safety of whoever’s meeting this was.

Welcome to Hades tower, sir. I’m afraid we’re going to have to ask you to turn over any communication devices and weapons you’re carrying.

Tal’s lips pursed into a very slight grimace. While he absolutely hated giving up his weapons, it was no surprise that that’s what they wanted. He was, however, slightly caught off guard by their asking for his coms equipment, but nonetheless he obliged.

Fine, he added curtly. For the sake of blending in, he had forgone his full suit of armor and instead carried a much more scaled down arsenal distributed throughout his leather jacket, boots, and gloves. First things first, he pulled his custom Verpine pistol from a shoulder holster and handed it to the closest guard.

You break it, you buy it. And it cost as much as you make in three months, so you’d better not break it. As the man took it off his hands, he was glad that he had made sure to get a beefed-up version that wouldn’t be broken if some klutz dropped it. He then pulled a flip knife from his pocket, the bead com from his ear, and his writs datapad and handed them all over to the men. These proceedings were then immediately followed by an exceptionally lenient pat down.

He walked away with his “gloves” (which, while they looked just like gloves were in fact a well-disguised pair of crushgaunts), the knife strapped to the small of his back, and a garrote in his pocket. He could appreciate people that would let the meeting attendants keep a little peace of mind.

With the technicalities out of the way, he stepped into the turbolift, which shot off towards the tower. The doors slid open and he was brought to a conference room wherein several others were gathered. The first thing that caught his eye was what looked to be another Mandalorian, at least based on his chest armor. Interesting, he thought to himself, consciously aware that there was nothing on his own body that would distinguish him as such.

There was also a tall, thin woman with platinum blond hair and a Rodian who, surprisingly enough for Tal, was actually shorter than him. That didn’t usually happen, generally he was the shortest man in the room. The thought of making a snide quip shot through his head, but after a split second his basil ganglia snapped to and he decided that would be far less than professional. Instead he nodded toward the others and took a seat, facing the door – and the others in the room.

 

[Aura]

DSC Daedalus was neutral ground. Neutral ground in where various factions including Sith; Jedi; and the Hutts could discuss business as equals, regardless of relations between the factions. To her however, she saw it as a masterpiece of engineering, and she considered the space station to be an marvelous masterpiece, a legendary space station; however legends also had to die sometime right?


All the Rebel Commander had been told was that it was something that could end in changing the entire war for the Rebellion; moroever, she had also been told that it also had a high risk of her and the team she worked with dying. When she had entered the Rebellion, Aura knew she wouldn't have taken the mission. Now however, having fought the former Sith Warmaster and helped Forum killed him had eliminated the fear of risk -mostly at least- and that achievement primarily had made her join this mission. She knew know that she had nothing to lose, especially now that her sister, Korra, was dead.

"Welcome to Hades tower, sir. I’m afraid we’re going to have to ask you to turn over any communication devices and weapons you’re carrying."

When she arrived in Hades Tower, she knew that she wasn't going to be carrying any weapons. Aura was of course still cautious, especially since their was a possiblity the people joining this mission. She however had figured out that their would be weapon checks in a place like this.

"I don't have anything." she stated. Of course, they couldn't believe that so they simply checked the areas that they needed to check, exept the areas that they knew they shouldn't check.

After the necessary check ups were done, the Mandalorian was escored to a turbolift which took her to the tower. She then reached her destination and she so four other people. "This should be interesting. " she stated.

 

[BLADE]

From the Journal of A. Sol
CHAPTER I: SOMETHING HEAD TENTACLÉD(1) THIS WAY COMES

DIARY (WE ARE NOT SO ACQUAINTED THAT I CAN SO EASILY BESTOW ENDEARMENTS),

CONSIDERED WRITING THIS IN CODE AS MONSIEUR A WIDELY CONSIDERED TO BE FOREMOST MACABRE GLYPHOMANCER IN THE DARK REGIONS. HATE TO ADMIT IT, BUT HIS FLOWING PENMANSHIP IS AS ELEGANT AS HIS CHARACTER IS PITCH BLACK. BUT SUCH RUMINATIONS WILL DISSOLVE MY HUMORS LIKE A JIVE TURKEYS GIZZARD. INSTEAD HAVE CONTINUED TO ELUCIDATE MY PURSUIT OF THE GREAT HEAD SUCKA IN THE HOPES THAT THE CHITINOUS MEMBRANES THAT LINK WRITING AND DOING WILL ENFIRE MY DEEDS.

ALSO I WAS BORED.

THE COMMUNIQUE ITSELF WAS SENT BY PROFESSIONALS ASKING FOR A MEETING AT THE HADES TOWER(2). I DID NOT TARRY AS FELICITOUSLY MY INVESTIGATIONS LED ME TO BELIEVE THAT A (AS HE SHALL HENCEFORTH ME REFERRED TO HERE) WAS LAST SEEN IN THE REGION.

ALSO I WAS SHORT ON FUNDS.

I WOULD DO ANYTHING TO ANYONE TO FIND MY PREY AND THEREFORE I ACCEPTED.

HADES TOWER ITSELF WAS NOT PARTICULARLY IMPRESSIVE. MY EYES ESPIED THAT IT WAS BUILT ON A SLANT AND THAT IN ANY CASE, IT WAS A PLINTH PLAYING AT BEING AN OBELISK. MY GARB, SUFFUSED WITH NEIMODIAN OIL AND BLESSED BY THE UR-SHAMAN OF OTOH GUNGAH WAS SUFFICIENTLY... FRESH TO DETER THE THRONGING MASSES OF BIOMASS THAT MADE UP THE CONCOURSES OF THE WRETCHED SPACE STATION (DID THESE FOOLS NOT REALIZE THAT THE BELLIGERENT BIBITORIES WERE ESPECIALLY AT EASE IN THESE "SPACE STATIONS?")

THE ARTIFICIAL SKY WAS ESPECIALLY SATURNINE, FROWNING IN GREAT LINES OF PLASMA CUMULUS THAT REPLICATED... DRIZZLE.

FORTUNATELY MY OIL-IMBUED WAISTCOAT AND FUR OF WOOKIEE TOPHAT WERE MORE THAN ENOUGH TO REPEL THE RAIN.

A BARBIGEROUS FELLOW, LARGE OF BELLY AND THICK OF NECK (A PERFECT TARGET FOR A THE ABHORRENT) MET ME BY THE PORTCULLIS, A CHIRPING DEMON LIGHTS ARRAY DATAPAD IN HIS HAND.

HE BID ME TO HAND HIM MY WEAPONS, AND SO I DID. MY FLAIL WITH HEART OF SPACE SLUG SPIKE. MY SPEAR OF EXTENSIBLE TRANDOSHAN FUNNY BONE. MY MUNN CLUB... FOOT. MY CHROMIUM BULLET REVOLVER. I CONTINUED UPON THIS PANTOMIME FOR MANY MOMENTS WHILE MY THOUGHTS TOOK FLIGHT...

MY DISPOSITION IS ONE OF HIGH SPIRITS, AS YOU KNOW DEAR DIARY (EVEN THOUGH THIS IS THE FIRST ENTRY SHUT UP) AND AS A MAN OF CONSIDERABLE LIVING I WAS AWARE (AND APPROVING OF THESE SECURITY MEASURES.)

THAT DID NOT MEAN I HAD NONE OF MY OWN TO CONSIDER.

AS THE PORTER TOOK MY NAME AND MY WEAPONS, I PRONATED MY WRIST AND DREW A SMALL POUCH OF THE SUBSTANCE. A FAT MAN OF NO SUBSTANCE, AND WITH A WEAK CHIN, HE WAS UNREADY UTTERLY FOR MY ACTIONS.

THE BAG FLEW AT HIM LIKE THE FIRES OF DARKEST MUSTAFAR. IT BOUNCED OFF HIS RATHER BULBOUS NOSE AND SPLIT OPEN. FLAKES OF AMPHIBIMORPH FLESH HIT THE SOPORIFIC SPALPEEN SQUARE IN THE SQUISHY FACE.

HE BLINKED.

I STARED AT HIM.

"LOOKS LIKE YOU AINT ONE OF THEM."

COULD STILL BE A THRALL BITCH THOUGH.

FO SHO.

BUT LET THIS NOT BE AN EXCURSUS INTO THE DEEPEST NATURES AND DESIDERATA OF THE THRALL BITCHES (3). I CONTINUED TO WITHDRAW MY WEAPONS INTO THIS ENTREPOT OF LETHALITY: MY BRASS KNUCKLES, MY THROWING BLADES, MY CAN OF EXPIRED BANTHA CHILI (GOOD FOR THE HEART WHEN FIGHTING ANZATYR), AND OF COURSE THE HARUSPICES KNIFE ID... ER MISPLACED WHEN I WAS PURCHASING MORE GUNGAN FLAKES.

DID I MENTION I WAS VERY LOW ON FUNDS? EVEN YOU DEAREST BARBICAN OF MY HEART ARE... PURLOINED.

THE SHAME. IT IS ENOUGH TO DRIVE A BROTHER MAD.

IN ANY CASE, IT WAS ONLY A FEW MORE MOMENTS OF FIDDLING BEFORE I WAS LED INTO A TASTEFULLY DECORATED (IF THIS WERE A CORELLIAN BORDELLO) HALLWAY.

UP, UP, UP WE WENT TO THE FLOOR WHERE THE EMINENCES GRISE WHO HAD SOME SURFEIT OF INTEREST IN MY SERVICES WAITED.

I WAS TO HAVE COMPANIONS, FOR WHICH I WAS THANKFUL. THEY WERE WOMEN, FOR WHICH I WAS LESS THANKFUL, AS MINDFUL OF MY INEXORABLE SEX APPEAL AND OF A THE ABOMINABLE'S DESIRE TO ESTABLISH A PREHENSILE'D COVEN THAT WOULD COVER THE GALAXY IN THE CORPSES OF ITS OWN SCANDALOUS FASHIONS --NAKED ANKLES ALL AROUND-- AND OUTRAGEOUS APPETITES (A THE ADAMANT WAS CERTAINLY NOT GETTING TRIMMER IN HIS THIRD MILLENNIUM OF TERROR.)

I UNCLENCHED MY BUTTOCKS, REMEMBERING MY HIDDEN WEAPONS: A SPIKED BLADE FROM OLDEST ALDERAAN AND POWDERED HUTT LAUDANUM. THE LATTER I HAD USED ESPECIALLY TO DEFEAT RUFFIANS AND TO BLUNT THE BURBITATION OF TOO-HIGH SPIRITS WHEN I HAD GRAPPL'D WITH AND O'ERTHROWN THE STRIGOI OF FELUCIA(4).

BUT THAT IS ANOTHER ENTRY.

I SAT DOWN AND WAITED, VISIONS OF PROBOSCIS'D MOFOS DANCING IN MY HEAD.

FOOTNOTES YOU DUMB SUCKHEAD

1. Technically the Anzatyr's cephalic structures contain no acatabulae and are known for their lubricity in comparison to more chitinous tentacles. As such it would be more accurate to call them probosces.

2. Hades Tower was formally public housing on this station. Gentrification is for suckas.

3. Thrall Bitches can only be defeated by defeating their Sire.

4. See Auren's Anthology of Alarm #623

 

[Galavant]

Dilara had gone on a bit of a shopping spree after her meeting with the...she still wasn't sure what the hell the giant woman she'd met in the cafe actually was. Between meeting her, and meeting the frankly insane Rodian, she'd had a feeling she'd want some bigger, and better guns. Those hadn't been hard to procure, thought she'd ditched the flechette pistol, because those were for nerds. Better guns, better armor, some grenades, and all that good stuff. Most of what she'd gotten had been thanks to the Coterie, and Rebel sources. Who said there weren't perks to being a rogue Imperial Pilot who was now fighting against the institutions she'd spent most of her adult life trying to defend?

Still, she'd much rather be in the cockpit of a starfighter. This plan was certifiably insane, and as the participants of her half of it entered the room, she was starting to get the feeling that a couple of them might not be altogether mentally healthy. That was fine, since they weren't ordering her to the ass end of the galaxy only for a giant black Super Star Destroyer, and promoting their underage children to admiral. The Pink one seemed particularly cray-cray though, she definitely wasn't going with Dilara to trip the radiation sensors. She could go with the one that...well frankly he smelled kinda like rust and rancid bantha chili.

Dilara was seated at the head of whatever table they were at, her boots up on the table itself. It was amazing how much fun even something as little as that was. She couldn't imagine being allowed to do such a thing in the Imperial Navy without getting in some kind of trouble, especially if one of the less lucid Sith were about. Which was likely, since none of them seemed to be particularly well adjusted people from what she could see with the outside view of the whole thing she had now. She didn't have anything on her, other than a vibroblade (oh and clothes and stuff). She didn't feel particularly threatened by those she was. Except maybe bantha chili, who the hell knew what was going with that.

"So then" She started, getting straight to the point. She didn't see much sense blabbing about security or anything like that. If the security set up by the paranoid Rodian hadn't told the three in the room that was serious business, there was nothing she could say that would.

"You're here because there's a couple jobs we'd like you to do," She said, handing out datapads to the lot of them. the pads were incredibly basic, intended for one time use. The surface was completely smooth, with no openings for data sticks or even headphones.They likewise had no way to connect to any networks, and their battery life was extremely short. She didn't say what the jobs were for, how they were connected, or that there were even four other people in another room who were also going to be doing jobs. She had no intention of telling them why, that was Bree'tor's thing. "Your mission, should you choose to accept it, is right there on the datapad."

The one given to Aura told her that she was going with Dilara. It also said that they'd be releasing some droids into engineering level to crawl into ventilation and spread a manufactured radioactive isotope. The isotope was harmless, but it would trigger the radiation alarms. Doing that wasn't going to be easy, considering they had to get the droids all the way there undetected. They would also plant time delayed capsules of the same isotope into ventilation shafts for each station arm, and deliver modified R-series droids to plug into comm system and create a broad spectrum jamming signal.

Auren, and Von, got datapads saying that they were breaking into the Command Center. It also said that there was an area in the markets where a weapon's stash had been set up, and that if they entered through the janitorial area they could get chemicals needed for some improvised chemical grenades to subdue the sure to be well armed Command Center. The gist of it was that they were assaulting the Command Center however, but only after the signal had been given. The signal being an evacuation notice for the station. They were then to hold it until reinforcements arrived.

On all of them was a number, a very large number. 750,000 credits each.

And after sixty seconds, each datapad would wipe itself clean of all data, and a thermite charge inside would active, incinerating it from the inside out.

 

[Clayton]

The screens blinked as the current windows were replaced with maps of Daedalus. The techs confirmed that all the jamming and interference equipment was working properly, and people could come in now. Bree nodded at the man by the door, who promptly opened it. The security guard outside escorted three people into the room, and shut the door behind him. Bree clapped his hands together and rubbed the palms of his hands earnestly. "Excellent, you're all here. Bree apologizes for any inconvenience at security. Precautions must be taken, after all. Now this job you have all been tapped for, it's a big one. Possibly dangerous. Maybe fun. Definitely fun. Well-paying too!"

The rodian tapped a button on the holoprojector, and a blue, vaguely transparent image of Daedalus Station hovered in mid-air above the table. The station rotated ever so slowly as Breen resumed his speech. "Now, the payout for this job is 750,000 credits. Per person. Plus if you do your job well, you will be eligible for a bonus of, well...let's just say that's a surprise. Bree thinks it will keep things interesting that way. Now, Kal Varad and Tal Veren, you two will be on a team. Aurelia, you're with me. The jobs are as follows,"[color] he tapped another button, and the station hologram zoomed in around the main ring. Three areas were highlighted in red. "Varad and Veren, Cause as much chaos as you can. The idea is to cause as much congestion and tie up as much security resources as possible, obviously without being captured. That's the tricky part. Quasar Market is one of the most crowded on Daedalus, but Bree doesn't see a way to incite chaos inside the market without getting trapped by that chaos. A sniper and a string of explosions in the speeder parking lots should do wonders. The Loop here,"[color] he said, pointing to another section marked in red, "is the main speeder air freeway tunnel that circles the entire ring. It's rather spacious. A disaster of suitable proportions would cause a severe traffic jam. How you cause a disaster in an area where speeders can move in any direction is up to you. Finally, Salaad Spaceport is one of three main docking zones for ships. It's also near a war refugee camp of sizable population. Bree not sure what you could do there, but...up to you."

He turned his focus to Aurelia. "You will be with Bree. We have similar skillsets, and will need to employ them at several secure server hubs. We will also be assisting Varad and Veren if we get access to some security subroutines such as cameras and door controls. Bree'll explain more on the way to save time. Bree also suggest that Varad and Veren spend some time scouting out the areas and coming up with plans and escape routes. Increases your chances of success and gives us time to hack into cameras and such. Now, any questions?"

 

[Prudence]

Kal watched as the others began to file into the room as well. He couldn't make much of who they might be, or where they might be from, but he could definitely tell this job would be interesting. The secrecy of the meeting place, the scrutiny of security, these were high caliber people for a very precision job. He listened as the Rodian talked, describing the mission and the teams they would be working in. He had been assigned to the other man, 'Tal Veren'. The name sounded Mandalorian in origin, but he couldn't be sure. As few of them as there were now, and as intermixed as the galaxy was, it could be long descendants for all he knew. He almost let out a whistle at the price they would be paid, 750,000 was a nice chunk of credits. When the strange Rodian who kept referring to himself in the third person finished, Varad only had one question

"I assume collateral damage won't be an issue here? Or am I expected to work under a minimal casualty policy?"

 

[BLADE]

From the Journal of A. Sol
CHAPTER II: MATERIAL THRALL BITCH

DIARY (AM SLOWLY WARMING UP TO YOU),

FOUND A CODE AND THEN REALIZED I HAD ALREADY USED IT FELT LIKE A SPENT SUCKA. SPUN AROUND IN MY CHAIR (HOLY SHIT IT SWIVELS!(1)) ANYHOW SOME POTENTIAL THRALL BITCH CAME IN WITH RESTING THRALL BITCH FACE. SHE LOOKED AROUND AT ALL OF US AND AM PRETTY SURE SHE FELL INSTANTLY IN LOVE WITH ME... OR HOLY SHIT SHE MIGHT BE AN AGENT OF THE ABOMINABLE ONE. STILL... I LOOKED AT HER APPRAISINGLY. ONE MUST MAKE SACRIFICES IN THE NAME OF ANZATYR HUNTING.

ALSO I WAS BORED.

ANYHOW MY SPLENDIFOROUS PARCHMENT PAL SHE FINISHED EYEING ME UP AND THEN HANDED ME A DATAPAD. I WAS TO UNDERTAKE A TASK WITH THE LARGE WOMAN WHO DID NOT LOOK PARTICULARLY PACABLE. OR PACKABLE FOR THAT MATTER. STILL THE LARGE WOMAN'S FEROCITY APPEALED TO ME. IF ONLY BECAUSE SHE WOULD MAKE EXCELLENT BAI--A PARTNER IN HUNTING THE ABOMINABLE ONE. MY GROIN TWITCHED (NOTHING UNSEEMLY YOU HEP PAD) AS I SENSED THAT THE ANZATYR WAS NEARBY.

OR IT MIGHT HAVE BEEN MY SPIKED BLADE. I KNEW I SHOULD HAVE LUBRICATED IT FIRST. (2)

IN ANY CASE, I LOOKED AT THE INFORMATION CONSIDERINGLY.

THE LAYOUT OF THE PLACE WAS OF LITTLE INTEREST TO ME, PARTICULARLY AS I COULD SEE THE LARGE-BONED WOMANS DARK EYES RUN OVER THE MAP ALMOST SENSUALLY. SHE SEEMED TO HAVE A KEN FOR VIOLENCE AND I WAS NO LAME QUERULIST MOTHAFUCKA. IN ANY CASE THE LAYOUT OF THE CLEANSER'S APOTHECARY MOST SPOKE TO MY TENDRESS FOR MIXING CHEMICALS (3) (THAT HAD BEEN MANY A STRANGE AND PASSING FANCY MONTHS I SPENT IN THE SPICE BOUTIQUES OF CORELLIA.)

I LOOKED AT THE ALL TIME SHINIUM EMPRESS BEST CLEANSER™ AND NEW THAT THIS POTENT AND NOT VERY POTABLE (TRUST ME I HAD TRIED) TINCTURE MIGHT MAKE FOR A MOST EXPEDITIOUS KNOCKOUT GAS. TO THAT END I MADE SOME MARGINALIA IN YOU (AS WELL AS... I MUST CONFESS SOME RATHER SHOCKING SKETCHES OF WHAT I BELIEVED A THE ABHORRENT WAS UP TO... THE FIEND!)

I LOOKED OUT THE WINDOW WHERE ROODS OF ARTIFICIAL SKY BORE DOWN ON THE EARTH, THINKING OF ALL THE SKEEZIES OUT THERE MY HOMIE THAT DON'T GOT NO CHANCE AGAINST THAT ILL MOTHAFUCKA THE ANZATYR NE PLUS ULTRA. I HAD NO CHOICE. THIS MISSION WAS MINE.

I SHIFTED ANXIOUSLY IN MY SWIVELLY CHAIR (WHEEEEE!) AND WINCED AS THE SPIKED BLADE ER... RODE UP.

REGARDLESS OF MY MISGIVINGS (THOUGH PERHAPS THAT WAS ILL HUMOUR OF THE STOMACH; I KNEW I SHOULDN'T HAVE INDULGED IN THAT HUTT POPPLER(4)) AND THE SENSUAL DANGER OF THE LARGE-BONED WOMAN WHO CLEARLY WANTED IT I DECIDED TO ACCEPT THIS MISSION.

WITH A GRAVE NOD TO MADAM RESTINGBITCHFACEINTHESEVEREUNIFORM I ESSAYED MY CONSENT AND THEN TURNED TO THE LARGE-BONED WOMAN WITH THE SMELL OF VIOLENCE (AND LARGE BONED WOMAN) ABOUT HER. SHE SCANDALOUSLY WORE NO SHAWL.

"YO DAWG," I SALLIED FORTH WITH ALL THE ACUMEN OF QUAESTORS MOST HYPE, "HOW SHALL WE BE PECULATIN' ON THE SATISFACTORY OF THIS UNDERTAKING? WE CAN'T BE JIVE ASS TURKEYS ON THIS ONE WOMANG."

THE DATAPAD FIZZLED BUT NO MATTER FOR THE INFORMATION WAS ETCHED INTO MY MIND AS KEENLY AS THE NAIL OF THAT BOUDOIR-WOMAN WHOSE PRICES I DISAGREED WITH. (5)

P.S. YO DAWG.... DO YOU THINK STARS EVER GO TO SLEEP SOMETIMES?

FOO' DON'T YOU KNOW FOOTNOTES ARE THE SHIT MY BROTHA TO PROTECT AGAINST ANZATYR? DAAYUUUM

1. Auren's best memories all involve a swivelly chair. Go figure.

2. Blade lubrication often leads a +5 damage against CREATURES OF THE NIGHT. Also makes for easier concealment.

3. See: Auren, Space Slug and Friends : ) #28

4. The galaxy's most refreshing snack! You'll SLUG yo' mamma it's so good.

5. Incidentally Auren can no longer sire children... He blames the Anzatyr.

 

[Phoenix]

There was no denying it. 750,000 was a lot of stinking money. Tal’s eyebrows rose at the mention of such a large sum. It was surprising, but it secured his interest in the operation for certain. The fact that there was a possibility of bonuses just sweetened the deal.

He’d been paired with the other Mandalorian, and it sounded like the job was appropriate to their skills. Tal nodded at the other man in acknowledgement. At least there was a certain solace in the fact that the other man would presumably be able to fight.

The man – Kal – had a good question. Tal wasn’t really accustomed to strict – well actually any – ROEs when he was in the Cartel, but this wasn’t the Cartel, even if they were meeting in the Cartel’s room. Irony. It was possible that this set of employers would want something very specific. Though regardless of the answer, Tal didn’t have a lot of intention of killing civilians unnecessarily. It was against his honor that so many people in the Cartel seemed vaguely annoyed by, but none would say to his face. No matter, he’d get his answer soon enough.

 

[Von Raythe]

Am I in hell?

Von felt like she was. Sitting next to a man one could only classify as a Certified Nutball and given what she would normally call a suicide mission, the Jedi Master was now fully and totally regretting accepting this job on nearly every level. Her only comfort, however meager, was that her cursory sense of the Certified Nutball was that of a determined man, even if she thought him about as appealing as a Hutt. He literally offended every sense she possessed. He looked like he bathed once a month (maybe), he would feel like a used gum wrapper, his vocal pattern was disconcerting, he smelled like the one bath he took was in baked space beans and grease, and the smell was so pungent that it left a bad taste in her mouth.

Still, Von accepted the mission with what little grace she could muster, asking only a single question before leaving with her new...partner.

"I take it we have the right to use lethal force against any and all hostile forces?"

As Von stood up, the datapad in her hand began to fizzle and burn, causing her to drop it in a nearby metal wastebin. She'd already dedicated all of the information on it to memory. Her partner spoke, but Von only understand small portions of it.

"I've no intention of being an 'ass turkey', sir, but we will have to be careful. I take it by your particular disposition, you've some skill at mixing chemicals. Do you think you could rig me a rather strong explosive? Something...with a lot of fire?"

 

[Aura]

"I look forward to working with you." she stated. After finishing speaking, she looked for more information at the datapad, and so that she was going to be payed 750,000 credits. Thats a lot of freakin money she thought to herself.. The Mandalorian didn't care a lot about credits but she had to admit that 750,000 credits was a lot of money. Just because she didn't care about money didn't mean she wasn't going to talk it though; it would be stupid not to take the money.

As she looked at the datapad, she memorized what she needed to do and recited it in her head. She couldn't wait to finish her part of the mission, mostly because she wanted this to be finished as soon as possible so that she could see Fondor burn. It was unfotunate that people died but as Aura continued doing missions and being frequenetly deployed by the Rebellion, she realized that this was the sad reality of war and that you had to just minimize -both civilian and military- casualties as much as you can.


She continued to see what was happening, as she waited for the briefing to finish.

 

[Aurelia Sovark]

From the moment Bree, ever so oddly, began speaking, Aurelia clasped her right forearm, pressing her fingers into her wrist. This was it, and she knew it. She could feel it. 750,000 credits was a tremendous payload. It wouldn't cover all of her 'debts', but it was an irresistibly strong start. She could buy a brand new ship five times over with credits to spare, or even fund experiments for the next six years. As far as opportunities went, this was one that was too good to pass up. There were questions, obviously. A lot of questions, but more so for the Mandalorian pair than her.

She'd been in the game long enough to know people hired to be meat usually drew the shorter end than those hired for technical expertise. If they were going to be brutes, muscle for hire, then they needed an endgame plan. And given Daedalus' measures against hostilities, it had to be a big frakking plan. There was only two of them, and if they died, there went the only line of defense. No matter what mysterious ultimate goal was being planned, there was no way four people were wreaking havoc on Daedalus alone with the expectation to succeed.

There had to be more, someone else - either on the station with them, at their destination, or somewhere else behind the scenes - working with them. This had to have been a bigger job - a much, much bigger job than Bree was letting on. And that alone was saying something, most of them bad. Aurelia regardless contented keeping her gut feeling to herself... at least for the time being. Intuition could sometimes be a weapon when revealed cautiously.

"Well, Aurelia never could say no to fun, now could she?", she said, still gripping her forearm with her fingers. Anyone looking closely at her could see her slight shiver, like she could barely contain her excitement. Then again, her imitation of Bree's speech would likely attest to that anyway.

~Or to surprises... Hell, or to credits~

Her smile tempered, fully impish but calmed. At least more so than previously. There were still many things unknown to her, but likely nothing her employer would have her know. Improvising, innovating and adapting to situations at hand always worked better for her anyways. Her strength was thinking on her feet, reacting to danger as it arose, not in excessive planning or preparation. If she needed answers, she'd pick them up at the right time, and in her own way.

"As for questions? No, not a one. Aurelia has never come across any computer system or security program smarter than she is... And never will."

 

[Galavant]

"Likewise," Dilara replied to Aura. She at least seemed normal....well normal as far as the kind of people who seemed to show up for insanely dangerous ops that could end in mass murder at best, and with all of them ending up on posters for being wanted war criminals at worst. Not that any such poster would really matter, given that the greatest mass murdered and purveyor of genocide was in charge of the Imperium. Throwing stones in glass houses, and all that.

Dilara looked at the man, and just blinked. She had no idea what he was even saying really, but the gist of it seemed to be something about how to do what they'd been told to do on the datapad. She was starting to wonder if he was actually qualified enough to be here. He seemed like the kind of guy who'd lie on his resume to get a job as a manager at a bad cantina. There was certain smouldering allure about him, but she had a feeling a guy named Blotter would make for a better date, and this was hardly the time or place. The pink woman on the other hand kinda reminded her of the monster she'd met in the cafe before this, in that she was incredibly large. That she was asking whether or not they could kill anybody also reminded her of the other woman, although she doubted that the other one would have bothered to ask.

"Yes but try not to leave too many bodies," Dilara answered. What did she think this was? Some kind of kiddie-op being run by the Little Padawan Who Could? Although she was glad that Pinko was teaming up with him, since she at least seemed to have restraint, situational awareness, and a reasonably good grasp on reality.

Other than that....

"If there's nothing else then?" She asked, rhetorically, already leaving for the ship she'd arrived in. Von, and Auren would be setting up, while Aura and Dilara got the party favors.

 

[Clayton]

Bree considered the Mandalorian's question. He and Dilara had come up with an answer to such a question, but now Bree found himself in the unusual position of figuring out how to word something. "Bree'tor...prefer that you operate under minimal casualty. Your goal is to distract the security services, not get the entire sector locked down tighter than a Jedi's asshole. Besides, panicked civilians drain resources. Dead ones do not. Now, you both have your jobs, time to get to it. Again, Bree suggest you take your time in order to properly plan your attacks. You're useless to us if you get arrested after causing chaos in just one location." He blinked and turned the holoprojector off with a tap. A technician took the device while Bree backed away from the table. "Now that should be all. If you will kindly give the technician here your comm channel you will be operating under, that's all Bree will need from here. You have your jobs, get to work. Aurelia, you're with Bree and you can follow Bree downstairs. There are some devices we need to pick up."

 

[Prudence]

Kal's face fell slightly as his eyes narrowed. Minimal casualties my ass. Want me to do a job and then tie my hands behind my back. Disgusting.

He shrugged "Whatever you say so long as I get paid."

Standing up Kal walked to the technician, and spoke aloud the comm channel that would be preferred for this operation. It was one that would go straight to his helmet and his ship, but one that was relayed and encrypted so not to somehow later track him down. He then popped his neck, feeling the pops through his skull. It was a nervous habit he picked up, that he usually performed when he was bored. "Veren, I'll be waiting downstairs for you."

He then left the salon room without saying another word. It was a short walk down the cold dark hall until he reached the turbolift. Waiting for him was an employee who readily queried him about his destination floor. "The main level." he said. The employee opened the lift and ushered him in, closing it behind him. Inside was an armed guard along with the employee. They reached the first floor with a ding from the doors, and Kal exited calmly. Making his way to security he leaned over the table "I'll have my weapons and gear back now."

The security officer on duty, not one of the ones from earlier, began forking the Mandalorian his gear and weapons. After clicking and slinging all weapons back into place, he attached his datapad and comm unit, and slid his helmet back into place. Now he just had to wait for Veren to get here.