Making Friends 101

[Xan]

Deep inside of the Void, which was still ringing from a terrorist attack, a lone Miralukan stood in a small room before a holo-terminal with a contemplative expression resting on his features. Or at least, what could be seen of his features; as with the vast majority of his race, Lyte was never seen without a band of some form hiding his non-existent eyes. This particular band was black with ornate silver patterns flowing and crossing each other along the surface; his favorite headband, the one that he most liked to use for noteworthy projects such as this one. He had been given a particular set of instructions, and he was currently thinking to himself about how best to carry them out.

Though in fairness, there was not much to think about quite yet. Oh no, the negotiation would be the part that would require actual thought, but sparing a few moments for preemptive contemplation never went awry. Adjusting the device in front of him with the proper set of codes provided by members of the Crucible, Lyte activated the machine and sent his message zooming through the stars. "Greetings. If this set of codes is correct, then I believe we have something to discuss." Perhaps a bit vague, but if the codes were indeed legitimate then there would be no need to say much else as a salutation. All that there was left to do then was to see if the codes were indeed correct.

@Nor'baal

 

[Voren Makr]

What a shit-hole, Voren thought as he slugged through ankle deep mud on one of the many city paths of Nar Shaddaa. Bastard never even paid anyway he cursed, ducking as he dodged one of the many overhanging signs advertising the innumerable, and probably questionable wares within the various shops on the road. Passing one sign which had, in rather Gaudy Font, something to do with Chevin Reproduction on the sign, he grimaced. I hate this place, decided the man, casting his mind to better places in the core, were at least the streets kept themselves clean. Continuing down the path, his armor drenched in what he could only hope was mud, he entered the apartment that, for a dubiously low price, he had rented for the last couple of weeks.

Sliding the door open, he shook off the mud on his boots, and took a seat in one the large utilitarian chairs in the room. Propping his Machine Rifle against the wall, and plonking his back holstered sniper on the weapons rack, he un-holstered his D-19P and placed it on the table, leaving his knife and blade in place, despite the discomfort it caused. It had been a long day, trawling after the Hutt whom he had been contracted to eradicate, and he just wanted to get some shut eye.

Of course, that would not happen, for his com-link clearly had other ideas. Accepting the call, he was somewhat surprised by not only the abruptness of the message, but also from where it came. The Accord, he thought to himself, not seen this lot for a while. In fact, the last time the man would have seen them would have been back in the Republic, when he had tried to vote down their membership and alliance. Oops he thought, placing a set of Pazaak cards on the table as he started to count them out. He was not wearing a mask, his face thus would be fully be visible to the person on the other end of the line.

Counting the cards, in a game known by some as 'Solitaire' he spoke ''You have the correct code certainly. Voren Makr - what can I do you for?'' he asked, looking up at the camera as he drew his sentence to a close. It would be interesting to see what the do gooders of the Accord wanted from someone such as he.

 

[Lyte Revenas]

So it seemed that the contacts of the Accord were still reliable after all. Lyte spared a moment to wonder at which member of the Accord had been the one to give the codes and how they knew this particular man, but it was unimportant. What was important was that the mercenary answered, revealing a face that matched the descriptions that Lyte had been given. The man certainly looked the part, considering the armor that he was currently sporting. Perhaps this would be worth the undoubtedly exorbitant amount of credits the Accord was about to spend to hire the skilled operative. At the very least, he seemed to react positively enough to the initial contact.

"My superiors have instructed me to contact you with an offer, Mr. Makr. The Accord has need of someone with your particular set of skills, and I would like to establish a meeting to discuss potential arrangements. Would you like to know more?" Being unused to dealing with mercenaries, Lyte defaulted to formal tones that reflected a mood of business. It seemed to be appropriate for the occasion considering the fact that this entire venture technically was business. His next question was whether the mercenary would be interested in working with the Accord, an organization that was swiftly becoming known as one of the more lawful in the Galaxy?

 

[Voren Makr]

Struggling to recall which member of the Accord he had met with previously, Voren took in what the man had to say. Normally at this stage of the discussion, he would he calculating how long his prison sentence would be if he was caught doing this in the wrong bit of the Galaxy. However, given the reputation of the Accord, there was every possibility that he wouldn't need to break the law for this particular mission.

Keen to get down to the details, Voren nodded as the man spoke, indicating his interest at this proposal. Money for skills, seems fair, he chuckled to himself. "You certainly have piqued my interest, please - do continue." he responded, urging the man to continue.

Unused to dealing with the more legitimate groups in the Galaxy these days, Voren was interested to understand the nature of the work he would be undertaking for them, in addition to wondering how the rest of his team could factor into such an operation. Placing the camera and comms unit in the hands of his protocol unit, a sleek steely gray model, he walked over to the drinks cabinet (unsurprisingly the cleanest part of his shelter) and poured himself a glass of Corellian Fire-Whiskey.

Taking a seat at the dining table in the corner of the room, he plonked the glass down, as he continued to listen to the commlink.

 

[Lyte Revenas]

Continue Lyte would after a few seconds of pause. What was it that the Accord needed Voren for? That was the million credit question that needed addressing. The truthful version was that after the Death Watch attack on the Void, additional security measures were being taken throughout both the Accord and the Void itself. One of those precautions happened to be the supplementation of the armed forces of the Accord with skilled mercenaries such as this one. The only problem with explaining that was that Lyte did not believe that his superiors wanted him to say that with quite such a "truthful" bent.

"After a terrorist attack on the Void itself, the Accord has need to hire some extra manpower. Simply put, depending on how our meeting progresses, you may be tasked with defending a high-profile individual or with carrying out a special operation." A truthful explanation that was not blatant, and a short summary of what the Accord needed with this particular man. In short, they required an elite operative with a diverse skillset. "Assuming that this is agreeable, I am sending you coordinates to the Void. I always prefer to discuss financial matters in person." With only a few simple commands, Lyte transmitted the coordinates to the Void through space to the mercenary. In fairness, Voren more than likely knew where the Accord lived already, but a "just in case" measure rarely went awry.