Head down and ears open

[01010101101]

Nal Hutta​

As Mr. Socket landed his spacecraft on a dock that probably didn't meet most safety regulations, he double-checked his gear. Blaster, credits, a fake ID, jar of dirt...yup, that was everything. He double-checked the ship's console to make sure he could start the engines as quickly as possible, just in case he needed to make a quick takeoff. He got up from the captain's chair and strode over to the exit, grabbing a small pouch of dried nerf strips.

Ah, the smell of exhaust, sweat, and a hastily cleaned up murder, Mr. Socket thought as the door closed behind him. With trash, broken ship parts, and other identifiables strewn around the dock, it was plain to see why the docking fee was so cheap. Luckily, Mr. Socket didn't mind the crap around him, even the sentient crap. Speaking of which...

"Spare a credit, sir? My children are--"

"Shove off," Mr. Socket said, glaring at the thin Twi'lek with his "eyepatch". He smirked in satisfaction as the alien gulped and scurried off into the shadows. He could have easily killed the refuge, but a death on his hands would be messy, especially after landing so soon. Then again, it was Hutta...it was possible no one would have given a crap.

Directly out of the docks exit was an outdoor market. The scent of oil was quickly replaced with the stench of week-old crunchbugs (though the reason Hutt food was being sold in a market was beyond anyone's guess). Vendors were loudly clamoring for business, most of them selling snacks for passengers to eat on their shuttle rides. Mr. Socket stopped at one stall that was selling charms made out of some kind of colorful stone; non-precious, of course.

Mr. Socket pulled a small necklace out of his pocket, nearly identical to the one that the vendor was selling. "Did you make this?" he asked, keeping his voice low. The other man examined the item for a few seconds before scoffing. Luckily, he was human, so there wasn't any trouble in translation. "Please, don't insult me," the merchant said gruffly. "The stone is a poor material, and the string was made by an ameteur. No, if it was made anywhere near here, I'd say...Gilan. Yeah, that has to be it. He's the only one who doesn't leave a craftman's mark. If I were him, I wouldn't either."

"Where do I find him?" Mr. Socket asked.

The vendor smirked. "Now, now. That's not how things work on Hutta. Here, you pay for information."

"I'm more attune to the 'talk or die' policy. The Hutts use that one, right?"

"Hah! You wouldn't dare shoot me, not with all of these people around."

"I don't know. I'm pretty fast, and I don't think these guys will mind if a vending space opened up."

"...there's a large market about a kilometer west of here. He's a blue-skinned Rodian who doesn't speak Basic very well. Can't miss him."

"'Thanks."

"Get the heck away from me."

Mr. Socket smirked and stepped away from stall, his jacket now a bit heavier from the half-dozen bracelets he had just swiped. They probably wouldn't sell for anything, but it was a habit he had no intention of breaking. He looked at "Gilan's" charm again. Time to see if tracking the seller was really worth it.

 

[Rector_Ras]

Tobi had been on Hutta for a few days now trying to find something to do as normal. He had been to a few cantinas, Played with some gangs, tried Hut food, broke into a Huts palace, killed some people that owed a Hit some money, and even danced for a very rich very fat female Hut but nothing was getting his attention as fun. So after deciding that Huts where way to boreing to even bother with Tobi was walking towards the space station so he could get off this rock and find something that was actualy fun to do the next thing he would do when he saw a man with an eye patch talking to a vendor who looked angry. " Well that guy might be a bit of fun. Maybe I can even get a bracelet from him. YES I LOVE BRACELETS THERE SO COLORFUL AND STUFF O MY I MUST GET ONE!" So Tobi decided he would stalk this guy. Moving from cover to cover as fast as he could though not very quiet he was almost like a ninja! ( just because most of his body can be seen means nothing ok!)

After following the guy to another vendor a a blue-skinned Rodian who seemed to not speak Basic very well. Tobi had heard some things about this Rodian mostly stuff about how his work sucks and no one should buy from him. He hid behind another vendor stall nearby just close so he could hear what the guy was going to say planning on after words going up to him and asking for a nice bracelet.

 

[01010101101]

Mr. Socket pushed his way through the crowd of customers in the market. Most criminals would have waited a while, after most of the buyers had left. That way, there would be less witnesses in the case of an...accident. But it was doubtful to the smuggler that there would be less than twenty people at any given time in this area. Besides, he knew how to disappear into a crowd, even as they fled from the scene.

Ah, there was his target. Just like the merchant had said, a blue-skinned Rodian was trying to talk a pair of customers into buying a red amulet. The amulet, like the necklace Mr. Socket had, was cheaply made, and it looked like the customers knew it. They quickly left after only a few seconds. The man took this chance to step in.

"Is this one of yours?" Mr. Socket demanded, getting straight to business.

The Rodian jumped. "Ah! Hallo!" he said, quickly regaining his composure. "Eh, that...mine, true! Buy 'nother one?"

"I didn't buy it. You're going to tell me who did," Mr. Socket replied.

"Records! Records, I see! I...no records, today."

Mr. Socket sighed. "What happened to your records?"

"Wype! Gone now. I do one-a week."

The human grimaced. Apparently, the Rodian had deleted all of his records, effectively cutting off the trail to Mr. Socket's target. "Are you sure you don't remember who bought this?" he asked, showing the charm again. "They should have bought at least five of these. Probably a shady character, an assassin, or a bounty hunter or--"

"Yesyes!" the Rodian squealed suddenly. "There man, who buy many charm. Ten charm, the number. He have many weapons, and have fight armor, like bounty hunter."

Mr. Socket smiled. The trail had been picked up again. "Who was he?" he asked.

"Not know. Many bounty hunter on Hutta. But...he Twi'lek! Talk good Basic. And this sign on armor." The Rodian quickly drew out a small emblem. It was in the shape of a Strill.

Silent Strills. Makes sense, Mr. Socket thought. With the new information in mind, he began to walk from the stall.

"You talk 'bout mine shop, yes?" the Rodian called. "Tell people, come!"

Mr. Socket scoffed. "I'm not so cruel to make people have to endure talking with you," he replied.

"Wha? But...I help you, help return! Even Hutts honor helpers!"

"And they're still warring!" Mr. Socket called, already several meters away. Musing over the new information, he thought back to a few days ago.

Bai'ev nodded to the fresh corpse sprawled on the hotel floor. "Dead in two days, just like the rest of them, he said to Mr. Socket. He bent down and took something out of the dead man's pocket. "Here's the warning," he said, sighing.

"With all due respect, sir, detective work isn't really my field," Mr. Socket said.

"You wanted a job, right?" the other man snapped. "Well here it is." He tossed the charm to the smuggler. "Find who's been killing my men. I can't afford to lose any more of them, even to stop the shooter."

Mr. Socket shifted uncomfortably. He was trying to find a low-profile job, letting the heat from his last gig cool down. Scouring the galaxy for an assassin wasn't really the kind of work he wanted. But then again, saying "no" to a crime boss from Nar Shaddaa was probably not a good idea. "Alright," he said finally. "Is there anything we know, other than the warnings?"

"Nothing. One of my men gets a charm, one way or another, two days later, he's dead. This one..." He nodded to the body. "I sent into hiding. They still got him."

"Doesn't sound like the usual competitor."

"No. Whoever's doing this is giving his targets a chance to fight. The last guy I lost geared up. Best weapons and armor he could find. Couldn't get any guards since no one wanted to risk their necks for a "marked man"--"

"Smart thinking, if you ask me."

"--but he still put up a heck of a fight. Unlike Erran here." He indicated to the corpse, which had a single blaster mark on its head.

"Alright, then," Mr. Socket said, pocketing the charm. I have some people I can talk to. They'll give me a direction." He started to leave.

"Ah, Mr., eh, Socket," Bai'ev called. "For every man I lose while you're looking for the killer, I'll deduct your fee by five hundred credits."

"..."


From what Mr. Socket had heard, the Silent Shrills were a team of Mandalorian offshoots or fanboys or something like that. They weren't real Mandalorians, but they had the same basic principles. Honor. Respect. A fair fight. Stupid crap like that. It would explain the time given to the victims before their demise.

"Well," Mr. Socket mumbled to himself. "Better than dealing with merchants."