Ask The Galactica

[Arla]

Arla watched and had to agree that this clearly wasn't official employees. So the Hutts had their own people here, which could make things trickier. However, when he said something was off, she just shook her head.

I don't sense anything, she said. Of course, that didn't mean that nothing was off, but she didn't know what it was.

Trap? They shouldn't know we're here, she said, suddenly wondering if the people in the casino had been a plant or something of the like.

He started moving, and she settled down to keep watch as he'd asked, trying to count the people coming and going to get an idea of who was inside.

She didn't see him warging into the cat, but she could tell that he was doing something in the Shadow as it ebbed and flowed around them. She was tempted to watch and see what he was doing, but knew she needed to keep an eye out.

She counted no less than seven people, and probably more. She wondered how many guards would be inside as well.

As Nakoa headed in with the cat, he would be able to spot a pair of guards at each of the doors, though they didn't look like they were particularly professional or particularly alert. In fact, they looked bored out of their minds.

 

[Nakoa Singh]

Nakoa sort of just shrugged. He had a good sense for that sort of thing but he often couldn't quite explain it. "Unsure," he admitted before focusing on the stray cat. Luckily it was orange. Strange behavior would be expected rather than unusual. Still, the connection wasn't exactly steady without preparation and all that. It'd have to do.

Senses were different as a cat. Good for sniffing about, albeit unfamiliar. He tried to guide the animal into the larger building, but it really was like trying to move a puppet about on strings. "Heeey, s'that cat again," commented one bored guard, reaching down to pat cat before going back to doing... nothing, really. The cat walked stiffly through the door into the haze of noise and smells. Nakoa scowled up on the catwalk.

It wasn't all too crowded compared to a typical Hutt's dwelling or palace, with fine furnishing and music and so on. The cat wove awkwardly between legs and, after a bit of aiming, managed to hop and scramble atop the bar. It was hard to tell how many of these people were guards from the cat's perspective but it definitely spotted a Hutt-sized throne. With a Hutt on it. Although-

"Oi, gerroff!" the gruff bartender shooed the cat off the bar, which yowled in protest, and Nakoa's connection was disrupted. He shook his head and grumbled, rubbing his temples as he came to, and somewhat awkwardly got himself up onto his feet in a low crouch.

"Couple Gammorreans, couple guards with pistols. Couldn't determine others." He paused, mouth twitching slightly with irritation. "Saw a Hutt. But I couldn't smell them." Which should frankly be impossible if a Hutt had been there in the last year.

@Phoenix

 

[Arla]

Arla waited for him as he played with his cat, gathering whatever information he could. After only a few moments more, he gave a report, and she frowned.

An illusion? Or some sort of specialized tech? Holoprojectors? she asked. She'd heard about things like that being used before. Was it possible that there actually wasn't a Hutt here? Just that someone had been using that cover to avoid anyone looking around.

Or perhaps he just called it in.

We need a closer look before we go in killing, she said. We could interrogate one of the employees to get information about who this is, she said.

And with that, she started making to act upon that plan. She moved along the catwalk until she was over the area that the servants were coming and going before diving into the Shadow. She flowed down its current before bursting back out below and around the corner of the servants.

She reached down the tendrils of the Shadow that connected her to those nearby and plucked one.

Come to me, her voice echoed in the woman's mind as she turned around the corner, almost in a seeming trance and held there by Arla's magick.

Tell me of your master, she said.

He is the Might Hutt Durr, she said. Wasn't Durr dead?

Is he here? Arla asked, but seemed to get a confused look.

Of course he is here, she said.

You've seen him eat? Touch things? she asked.

No, he always takes his meals in the privacy of his room or with his Majordomo, Toros the Devaronian, she said.

Arla dismissed the woman a few moments later before speaking into her comlink. I think we need to have a talk with his Devaronian majordomo. I'm not convinced our Hutt is real, she said.

 

[Nakoa Singh]

It was no surprise Arla got right to work since they both tended to just do stuff and Nakoa followed along the catwalk right up until the Nightsister wooshed away in a burst of green mist. At that point, he just leaned against the catwalk rail and made his presence in the Force very small and beneath notice. His head tilted slightly, keeping watch and paying attention to what Arla was doing.

Fingers tapped briefly against the rail when Arla reported her findings. Nakoa dropped quietly down next to Arla. "Bet there's a back or maintenance door. Or... we could just go through the front." Nakoa smirked and gave Arla an upward nod. "Guards look simple-minded to me." They could sneak in somewhere or just walk past the guards as 'guests'. Or some combination thereof. Assuming the Majordomo was even here at the moment, which they hadn't confirmed yet.

There was a sudden clattering from the other end of the alley Arla and Nakoa were skulking in. His head turned to look at the disturbance. A middle-aged Ugnaught in kitchen attire was dragging garbage toward a bin. By the time he turned away from the task Nakoa was already behind him, causing the man to jump slightly.

"Let me through the back." "What? No. I have spoken." Nakoa flashed a small fan of credits along with a nudge with the Force. "You make a sound argument. I accept." Well, the kitchen staff didn't seem to care much. Nakoa barely nudged the guy at all.

@Phoenix

 

[Arla]

Arla wasn't sure whether he had used the Force to influence the Ugnaught's mind or if it was just the credits that had done it. She couldn't imagine any of the kitchen staff were treated very well.

In short order, the door was open, and they were passing through. Arla's eyes flicked around the area, looking for entrances and exits all around her. She didn't know how many guards there would be, but she hoped they might actually be the type to ask questions first. You know, because this wasn't Nar Shaddaa.

None of the other staff members seemed to even cast them a glance, deciding they weren't worth the time or energy to tell them to get out. Hutts weren't known for their patience.

The scent of some deep-fried but delicious smelling food hit her nose and she was almost tempted to pause and take a look at it, but forced her mind back onto the proper work.

She made it through the kitchen and poked her head out into the hall beyond. Although the sound of the music was still vaguely thumping through the walls, the hall itself seemed to be empty and Arla slipped into it, heading out and away from the audience chamber.

Hutts do not like to move far. His room should be nearby, she said, moving down the hall and starting to look at the various rooms. At least several of them could be ruled out because the doors were probably too small, but after several more moments she found a door that seemed larger than the others, close to both the kitchen and the main chamber. She reached out and clicked the button for the door to slide open.

 

[Nakoa Singh]

Nakoa's reply to Arla's comment was to hand her a fried shrimp he'd swiped from the kitchen when no one was paying attention. He was chewing on one of his own so he just nodded agreeably. The Wrean looked both ways down the hall but neither he nor Arla would spot anything notable before she opened the door.

They were greeted by the sight of what appeared to be a rabbit in a trenchcoat speaking to the majordomo, both of whom made direct eye contact with the intruders. "For fuck's sake..." he grumbled, rushing in through the door and launching his coat jacket up through the air as visual cover. The Trench Hopper was here? How? Why!?

The reason for Nakoa's quick reaction was apparent- both people immediately went for weapons, the rabbit-thing launching a flying razor each at Arla and Nakoa. Nakoa closed the room's door behind he and Arla as they went in and moved to get to the Devaronian majordomo before he could call security. Pulling the comlink from the man's hand- Trench Hopper had judged Arla the larger threat and gone after her immediately, rightly so- Nakoa got in close.

And was promptly kicked away by the Majordomo, who dramatically threw off his fancy robes and put up a Teras Kasi guard. Nakoa rolled to his feet and pulled a pair of bronzium knuckles from inside his pockets while a fanged grin lit up his face. Hey, so long as he didn't have to fight that damn rabbit again.

@Phoenix

 

[Arla]

Arla wasn't expecting the rabbit man to act with such speed, and that was sloppy of her. The razor flung down the hall and slammed into Arla's shoulder, causing her to stumbled backwards with a gasp and groan of anger and pain.

Then the bunny was coming down on her in a rush. She wasn't caught off guard again, though. More razors flew down the hall and she narrowly dove aside as they thunked into the wall behind her. She whipped her arm outward, flinging the Shadow in a ball at the rabbit and flinging him back down the hall, though he, of course, landed on his feet.

Hop and this time blasters. Two blasters pouring shots down the hall at her and slamming into walls and floor as it nearly slammed into her. She dove into a side room, hoping that Nakoa was going to be doing better. This rabbit was a step above most people. Could she recruit him?

She loved the idea if he weren't trying to kill her right now. Then she had another idea. Why fight him herself if she could 2v1 them? She let her consciousness melt into the Shadow as soon as she stepped into the other room, flowing through the current, through the wall, and appearing in a flash behind the Majordomo as he engaged with Nakoa.

She reached out, slamming the extricated razor into the man's upper, posterior thigh instead.

 

[Nakoa Singh]

Something between a snarl and joyous laughter echoed in the Hutt's chamber, a serpent-like hiss of air escaping from between the Wrean's fangs as he fought the Majordomo. "Let's see what you got!" he declared, charging in with a close boxing guard to exchange blows to the backbeat of rapid blasterfire. The Majordomo had a clear advantage in skill, parrying heavy blows and landing shots to counter, quickly adapting to Nakoa's wilder style.

Then in a flash of emerald flame, Arla appeared from Shadow and delivered one of Hopper's blades into the Devaronian's leg, and he collapsed to that knee. Nakoa's left leg abruptly snapped into a kick that carried the Force behind inhuman strength. When the Majordomo shot his arms up to block the attack it wasn't just muscle and bone, but a burst of kinetic Force that transferred into his limbs, a Bendu Gessarit technique.

The man slid across the floor, crying out in pain as the bones in both forearms broke with a sick, wet snap. Amber-gold eyes that shone like suns met Arla's. "Great as always," he complimented. Barely noticeable, Nakoa winced slightly before his gaze caught Arla's new shoulder injury. It lingered for a moment before turning to the door, which rattled as if someone on the other side was trying to undo the lock.

Nakoa strode over to the very much done fighting Majordomo and pinned him down, then gestured toward the door. He spoke while a fresh bruise on his face already visibly beginning to fade from view. "Let him in," he suggested, pulling the knife from the Majordomo's leg and resting it ever so delicately against the man's neck.

Although losing to the Trench Hopper was unlikely, they were extremely frustrating for anyone to fight, particularly if they felt the need to call backup. Best to shut that down now. "Mister Majordomo, tell him to stand down. Else I'll put your horns where your eyes go."

It didn't sound like an idle threat.

@Phoenix

 

[Arla]

Arla reached up and touched at her shoulder, wincing as pain shot through her arm and shoulder. Nakoa had broken the man's arm with a sickening crunch, and his eyes were practically glowing with power.

He interrogated the majordomo and the rabbit man rounded the corner a moment later. Stop! the Devaronian shouted as the rabbit was about to unveil his next set of attacks. Arla could see the man's eyes watering in pain.

What do you want? the man growled, the four of them now in a tense standoff, though the trenchcoat seemed to manage to look rather relaxed about it all.

Arla looked down at the majordomo for only a moment before her eyes locked once again onto the larger threat.

Durr is dead and has been for some time. Your Hutt is fake, and we're here for answers. Speak, she growled.

 

[Nakoa Singh]

The Majordomo's eyes darted between his two assailants, Arla stared at Hopper, Hopper seemed interested in a bit of furniture for some reason, and Nakoa still held a blade to the Devaronian's neck. It was just a little tense for most of them. Excepting the space rabbit.

"Durr's not dead, what are you talking abou-" Nakoa turned the razor on so it buzzed a centimeter away from the man's neck. "Alright, alright! Hutt's fake, but good luck ousting them." The Wrean's eyes narrowed. "Elaborate." Trench Hopper surreptitiously checked a wrist chrono for the time, as if impatient for things to move along.

"It's, uh..."The Majordomo glanced nervously between Arla and Nakoa. Nakoa gently encouraged the man to continue by shaking him. "Several Anzellans in a droid, alright!?" he choked out after the Wrean's rough shaking jostled his injuries. "Now you're just fucking with us."

Somewhere down the hall, a repulsorlift warbled on its way to the Hutt's chamber.

@Phoenix

 

[Arla]

So Nakoa was right, then. The Hutt had been a fake, and that meant there was a whole slew of potential repercussions and fall out from that. The sound of the repulsor coming down the hall made things all the more interesting, and Arla tensed up again. She wanted to look down at the majordomo, but she didn't have any time. Or rather, she didn't trust taking her eyes off the rabbit man.

Take him inside, let's see this droid for ourselves, she said, eyes still locked on the rabbit and her hand now pressed deeper into her own injury.

You know, I could give you a better job than this, she said, stepping inside rather than waiting for him to respond.

The hum drew closer and Arla took up a position at one side of the door, knowing that Nakoa would have the majordomo covered. He was... more reliable than almost anyone she knew. There were few people she could count on these days and it was refreshing to have one.

The Hutt-droid floated into the room, and Arla leapt up onto the floating dais and plunged a conjured knife into the back of the hutt. Wow... it really was Anzellans in a droid. Arla was almost surprised to find a half-dozen of the little things inside.

Heh-hey!

 

[Nakoa Singh]

Nakoa covered the Majordomo by konking him upside the head with the knife, unconscious. He warily watched the door with an incredulous expression. Surely they were being fucked with right now. Just for a moment, his eyes glanced again at Arla's shoulder as she increased pressure on her injury.

Trench Hopper sort of just shrugged and then jerked his head upward toward Arla as if to say 'Oh yeah?' and, as of yet, made no real move to do anything.

Arla jumped toward the Hutt- yeah, neither it nor the room spelled like Hutt to Nakoa's keen nose- and stabbed it. A dozen voices from somewhere inside loudly complained and shouted what he guessed were swear words. Something in the droid shifted, the "Hutt's" left arm bending at an unnatural angle behind itself with a charging whine. Nakoa abruptly pounced toward the machine from his place on the ground, pupils narrowed to wild slits and a half-grin, half-snarl on his face.

Apparently the several Anzellans in a Hutt suit panicked and switched targets. From Arla perspective there would be a retort and flash of red as the Hutt's arm- actually a blaster concealed by plaster and fake skin- fired in the Wrean's direction, followed by a lot of tiny Anzellan screams. By all appearances, Nakoa had stuck his entire upper torso down the Hutt's "mouth."

After another moment he emerged, a blast wound visible by his lower left ribs from a not-quite-direct hit. There was also an Anzellan in each hand and one especially unfortunate specimen caught ever-so-delicately between his fangs like a wriggling fish. "Perwer dern," Nakoa demanded around the Anzellan. A brief shouting match in Anzellan between the caught ones and the not-caught ones ensued, followed by the entire Hutt going limp.


"Okay-okay, no squeezie!" said the Anzellan in Nakoa's left hand. He plopped that one down on the Hutt's head to face Arla and transferred the one in his mouth to the freed-up hand. It tasted gross and he wanted gum. Also, his ribs hurt.

@Phoenix

 

[Arla]

Arla was caught off guard by a flash of light and the burning scent of singed air as something happened. The rest of the Hutt's body blocked her view, but she plunged a hand inside, grabbed one of the Anzellans, and flung him across the room to the far wall. It was not a pleasant sight.

She saw Nakoa emerge a moment later with one of the people in his mouth, and everything slowly began to calm down.

We no fighty! No killzy! they went on and Arla had to once again turn her attention back to the Majordomo.

Your game is up. You're going to notify the administrator that his deal has been transferred to us, and what happens to you is up to you. Keep your job as our majordomo or get lost, she said. She had no idea if Nakoa would have qualms with that, but hopefully not. If he did, she was sure they could assassinate this man later. It wasn't such a different deal from the one she had set up on Centares before the Empire kicked them all out.

 

[Nakoa Singh]

Groggily raising his head, the Majordomo slowly took stop of his general situation. One splattered Anzellan, the rest had surrendered, a pair of Force users from who knew where, and the Trench Hopper didn't seem to feel like doing anything further. "Good medical plan," Nakoa cut in with a generically diplomatic tone, although he was looking at the Devaronian's injuries and might just be mocking him. Hard to tell, as usual.

"After careful consideration," the Majordomo said into the floor, "I have decided to accept your generous offer of employment." Nakoa abruptly returned the two Anzellans he held to their torn-up droid thing before reaching down to yank out the main power cell and toss it across the floor. After some prodding from Nakoa, he somehow 'convinced' the pile of Anzellans to drag the Majordomo off to the medbay like a collection of ants that'd found a dead spider.

Trench Hopper handed Arla his business card, he and Nakoa measured one another up, and then the rabbit-thing went off to get a drink from the bar. Clearly he really couldn't be all that bothered to care about the specifics. That left just Arla, Nakoa, and the new splatter-art wall decoration that was once an Anzellan.

Nakoa looked at Arla's injury, nostrils flaring momentarily, then her face. "May I?" He was apparently just going to ignore his own blaster wound.

@Phoenix

 

[Arla]

Arla wanted to let her guard settle as the adrenaline began to flow out of her body, but she knew that this time was often the most dangerous in a mission. Things could fall apart in an instant the moment you let your guard down.

She nodded as he asked if he could help with her injuries and she took a seat at one end of the room that gave her a good view of the room in case anyone came inside.

The rabbit seemed skilled. You have met him before? she asked curiously. Despite all the time they had spent together, she knew precious little about his mission experience in the past, but he gave off a distinct impression of having crossed paths with him before.

She winced as the bacta went on but the cool sensation started to offset the sting of the laceration within moments.

Here, I will help you, she said as they finished up with her injuries and she pulled out a medkit to start working on his blaster wound.

Light blaster. Or maybe a graze, she said as she placed a patch over his injury as well.

We should probably change before we meet with the administrator then, she said.

 

[Nakoa Singh]

Nakoa sat stiffly by Arla, aware of his injury even if he appeared to ignore it. A bacta patch was gently but firmly applied, fingertips brushing briefly against nearby skin to secure the simple adhesive. Amber-gold eyes focused on the injury, not looking at the Nightsister. They didn't see her face until she offered to treat his own injuries. His eyebrows raised.

"It- Okay," Nakoa interrupted themself as Arla immediately got to work. He gathered his thoughts. "Once. Work for the ISB in the outer rim. They guarded criminals." The Wrean fidgeted slightly as if sitting still long enough for Arla to apply the patch was just a little waiting too much. Nakoa appeared to find some spontaneous interest in a painting along the wall.

Amber-gold met silver when Arla finished. There was that sort of pause that happened when Nakoa was trying to get words in order. He glanced down at her attire, then at his. Suddenly, he was laughing. A short-lived, almost musical sound that disappeared into a fleeting smile.

"We should." Nakoa said. He nodded toward her shoulder. "Want a hand?"

@Phoenix

 

[Arla]

ISB work, Arla thought to herself, letting her attention drift back to the bacta patch she was applying and oblivious to anything that he might be feeling with regard to her medical care.

Well we're the criminals now, she said. It was almost an odd thing to say because she didn't really think of herself as any sort of "criminal." She wasn't part of the Hutt Cartel or Crimson Dawn, she didn't deal in spice or extortion, but she did deal in death. She was a huntress, and that meant hunting all sorts of people. Killing people and doing things that were, in fact, highly illegal.

Maybe the rabbit man would fit in just fine.

Her eyes met Nakoa's and he laughed. Why is he laughing? she wondered to herself. Is he trying to alleviate discomfort?

You're stressed? she asked. Yes, that was the logical conclusion. Arla had - on rare occasion - giggled like a school girl following a particularly close near-death experience. Giggled about absolutely nothing.

It should hold, she said, heading back in the direction of their rooms.

---​

After about an hour, the two emerged again, now patched up and in less-damaged clothing. These injuries could be a problem if we go to confrontation, she thought to herself.

We'll need to be careful in this meeting, she warned, though she was confident that he already knew that.

I can't tolerate these types of meetings. I'm not cut out for it, she said, surprisingly honest and out of the blue. She had founded Apex because she knew what she wanted to be, but a CEO was not really the role that she wanted to hold. Managing people was a poor way to spend your days. If she had wanted to do that, she would have become Dark Lord or even pursued the mantel of Queen already.

She let out a quiet huff of air through her nose but said none of that.

 

[Nakoa Singh]

Nakoa shook his head, expression already returned to his usual neutral where he looked at most times somewhere between bored and mildly annoyed. "Just funny, is all." He said nothing else, nodding in response to Arla's answer, and went with her to the rooms.

He looked much better after changing out of his torn, blaster-burned, and blood-flecked white suit. Nakoa'd fixed his hair all over again and went with a nice tunic-like shirt. The Tethysian man looked less like a gangster without the white suit, a fashionable jacket he'd found somewhere slung casually over his shoulders. Despite his injury being so recent, he seemed more comfortable standing up straight than an hour ago and the bruises and small scratches were nowhere in sight.

"Agreed." Wild energy from the fight had gone and he seemed as relaxed as he'd been when they first met earlier in the evening. He glanced over at Arla, a smirk forming. "You don't say?" he joked. "Not my thing either. Learned how from family." They'd both walk into the lift and Nakoa hit the appropriate button.

"Prefer my other hobbies," he added. His weight shifted from one foot to the other. "We should find a negotiator." Nakoa could 'mask' for negotiation but he felt doing it constantly might drive him to murder. Probably literally.

@Phoenix

 

[Arla]

Arla agreed with him on that. She let him deal with a lot of the negotiations because he was better at it than her, but that was kind of like saying he could run faster than someone with no legs.

Yes, and someone with some business acumen, she agreed. But for now, we will have to make due, she said.

She pressed on through the station and in the direction of their meeting. No doubt he will not want to see us, she thought to herself, but that was where the strength of their leverage came in. He worked for them now, and if he didn't like that... well, then he would find out exactly what it was that Apex did for the wider galaxy.

Their trip to the office was without issue, and before they arrived, Arla sent off the information about what they had found to one of the other members of Apex. Not that Arla and Nakoa couldn't fight their way out of a situation, but having the leverage outside of them was wise as well.

We're here to see Administrator Drafis, Arla said to the droid out front. I wonder if Father - or Raze or whatever - would have just walked in and smashed the droid, she thought to herself. She really didn't know. Her interactions with him had been strange and brief.

Do you have an appointment? the droid asked.

No. We're here in conjunction with Toros, she said, watching the droid perk up a moment before waving them inside.

 

[Nakoa Singh]

The Wrean thought on their mutual distaste for negotiation and the need for someone else who could do it. Nakoa was a capable strategist, which helped with the sort of verbal maneuvering they needed. Somehow he had a sense of charm to him. But he could only stand putting forth that effort for short periods. They really did need a capable businessperson. Ideally, one that was trustworthy.

Putting that oxymoron aside for now he refocused on the task at hand. Nakoa was glad for Arla's speaking to the droid as he wasn't fond of the talking machines and had to focus on talking with an actual sentient being. Before long the droid returned and guided them to the man's office.

Administrator Drafis was a middle-aged human of thoroughly average features, hair marked with streaks of gray and beginning to bald. His suit was... Well, ordinary. His office had few impressive decorations, a generic desk with a generic office chair and generic pictures of his family on the wall. By all appearances, he had a reasonably pretty but average wife, one son, and one daughter.

Nakoa scented the air as they walked through, and it smelled of generic air freshener, electronics, and moderately priced cologne that any white-collar worker could be wearing.

"So you're the ones Toros mentioned," the man stated, in that sort of almost-monotone voice that could blend in with a thousand others and go unnoticed. There was a pause as Nakoa gathered a response. Arla might recognize that as odd; when going into a social situation, he already has things to say prepared, snapping back quickly. After a further moment charming smile, not showing his fangs, fixed itself on his face.

"Apologies for the trouble. We heard some interesting rumors on our way to meet you, Mr. Drafis. Thought it was worth looking into the quieter side of Galactica." Drafis looked very relaxed. At the mention of 'rumors' however, Arla would sense through the Force a subtle wave of anxiety. Nakoa, for his part, seemed to be watching Drafis unusually closely.

@Phoenix