The Mask of Darkness: Precious Cargo

[Rorren]

It had been a late night in space when Bysk's glazed, bored eyes were lit up by a sudden blue flashing on his console. He had been scrapping a ship graveyard of a battle between some group of probably pirates and what seemed to be Sith Brotherhood fighters. The battle was not recent by any means, but metal was metal and he didn't need fresh parts. That of course made picking ships apart even less interesting to the trandoshan, he performing his task in almost a subconscious state, but the blue light pierced the attention of his brain to wake up and recognize it. Some notice had been sent out, his ship had received it. Just the chance of something to do gave him a bit of excitement and hope...But looking through the contract that popped up, it seemed the job was looking for mercenaries, hired guns. Whoever was hiring wanted bodyguards. His hope faded, excitement crumbling, until he saw the last word on the list, something that brought all of his anticipation back: 'Mechanic'.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Near Orbit, Serenno.

His eyes lit up, shining despite the slight bags under them from lack of sleep on his scaled skin. He had just flown into the sector, jumping near the orbit of the planet through hyperspace, the rendezvous listed on the job. It was early by Serenno standards, at least the side of the planet he was on. There, in the distance ahead of him, was one ship that stood out easily. It looked like the mix of a yacht and a battle cruiser, and Bysk soon understood why they were seeking a mechanic. This elegant, fancy ships may look sleek, and have a high performance, but they were built half for looks over functionality. It would need upkeep to make sure that the ship flew as properly as much cheaper counterparts. The ships were designed for the rich, repairs were seemingly affordable, anyways.

Bysk's daze of thought was once again broken by his console's activity as he was hailed by what he could only assume was the more than decently sized ship before him.

"Attention unknown vessel, this area is restricted for travel personnel only. State your business or leave the zone." A staticky voice came through his intercomm, and he got a bit of jitters then. He was a knew mechanic, relatively. No one knew him, and though he was confident in his skills with a toolkit, he was still nervous. But he put in his reply then.

"Thiss is Bysk Ka, requessting application to a job lissted for this area. I am looking for hiring ass a mechanic." He stated with his reptilian accent, though it didn't sound as thick as a normal trandoshan's would. He let the message go out as he waited for a reply, swallowing as the intercomm blinked it's light. It seemed a few moments longer than it was before a reply was returned.

"Very well. Send in your transcript for qualifications and we will check you in for an available spot." The man responded, relieving Bysk of his worries, for the most part. Hopefully they would give him the job...he did seem like the first one here. He transmitted his information and slowly put on the jets to fly forward towards the craft.

@Asmodeus-bBB12bBb31@Captain Hook @EmilyHuene
@Breeso

 

[Asmodeus-bBB12bBb31]

By the time Jaris sent in a reply, and his transcript to the mercenary listing, he'd already be in the cockpit of his CZ-01, and by the time he'd receive the reply giving him approval, he'd already be leaving the Corusca system. To Jaris' joy, the mission was merely an escort detail, meaning if it was done right, it'd be quick, and the quicker it was done, the quicker he'd be back on Coruscant. And the quicker the credits would be his. In a short matter of time, Jaris would find himself on Hydian Way, and give or take a stop or so, he'd arrive in the orbit of this big ol' fancy transport class, as he'd put it. It'd seem another merc had made it before him, as far as he could tell. There might've been more elsewhere. Flicking on his comms, the Zelosian would chime in. "Jaris Ziligua, reportin' in. Ready tah proceed whenevah." He'd let out the message to the yacht-cruiser, bringing his ship into a hover a short ways away from it.

"Stay nearby, and await further orders." The ship would simply reply. Now that wouldn't be too hard for him. He'd flick on his sensors, and targeting computer, and would run a few rudimentary tests to make sure everything was in order. Not that it'd matter, it's unlikely he would be able to make repairs in the event anything did go wrong, he left that kind of work to someone who understood it. As soon as he confirmed everything to be in working order, he'd flick the sensors, and computer back off, and would flick the shield generator on. Sitting back in his cockpit seat, he would silently eye the yacht-cruiser that sat before him, awaiting further orders.

 

[The Captain]

Serenno, home of the Sacred Band of Ziost. By his count, the sane half of the galaxy spanning murder cult known as the Sith. Granted, the Black Sun was on...not awful terms with the group, and Cral was in no position to pass moral judgement, they still disturbed him on a personal level. Thankfully, they would not be here long, as their objective was found in orbit over the planet, and not on it. Someone with an overabundance of wealth and a shortage of sense was apparently being ferried to Nar Shadda from here via smugglers. Cral had been tasked with retrieving the gentleman, and bringing him back to the Black Sun.

Clearly, they wanted him brought in severely, as he was sitting aboard a small escort freighter with a small army of Black Sun agents in the cargo hold, ready to go. His orders were to board the ship, capture the mystery fop, and destroy his ship, with the crew still on board. A simple grab and smash.

Perhaps a bit too simply for his tastes, but still.

@EmilyHuene

 

[EmilyHuene]

Serenno. This is where it all began. This is where her sister brought her after she was kidnapped from their father. This is where she was introduced to the Dark Knights of Sin. This is where she became a Sith. Bellatrix Ra'Kul, she was 11 when she was brought to this green planet of evil origin. Six years had passed. Now her days as a Sith were behind her, the Black Sun ahead of her. As she stood over by one of their windows she looked down to the planet in the distance and thought about how things could have been different. Beside her, her loyal son from her clan: Bastion Ra'Kul. He was three years older than Bellatrix, so obviously he wasn't actually her son. She was the mother of their group, a title given to their strongest warrior. Technically Father was the strongest, but gender equality wasn't really a thing in the Nohgri clan to which they stole power from.

Bellatrix had joined the Black Sun not but a few weeks ago and was excited to go about her first actual mission with them. She'd gone on a little endeavor for Cral as part of her hiring process which resulted in her whipping down a Zygerrian slaver who thought to defy the Sun's power. From there they went to the capital city where the Black Sun House resided and that's when Bellatrix made her debut to her new faction. She, like she was then, was dressed in a brand new outfit which suited her job description a little too well. She was wearing a black long-sleeve leather top which had a frilly collar around the neckline and then a corset tied around her waist which laced in the back and the front as well. The top would then flow out from under the corset in a short, yet flowy skirt with red trimmings. Likewise, she would also have attached a red cape around her shoulders to match the flow of the skirt by her legs. Then, after tall boots that laced up on the sides, she wore more leather leggings which looked like she'd painted them on.

The woman looked much like a dominatrix. Which of course was all tied together by the fact she had a Zygerrian shock whip coiled up in a satchel around her utility belt. The belt, which rested gently on the bottom line of the corset, held a small assortment of pouches, but also a few weapons. First, the whip she'd stolen from the slaver just a week ago. Second, five supernova grenades lined neatly against the belt next to two concussive grenades. On her left hip, just after the grenades, was a single grip lightsaber which resembled Sith technology. Lastly, Bellatrix carried her cruel, red, longsword: Saika on her back. With her short pixie-cut black hair, red bangs, blood red-tipped fingernails, the 17 year old teen looked like a demon warrior. Although it was her sister who had been given the nickname The Vampiric Princess, it was Bellatrix who sported the look much more accurately.

"Filius? << Son >>" Bellatrix would ask without looking to her side.

"Yes, Matar? << Mother >>" would come the white-haired boy's response.

"Go and find out when this ship is supposed to be passing through. I'm getting tired of waiting."

Bastion would bow to his Mother and respond, "Yes, Matar." The boy would then leave to go find Cral (@Captain Hook ) so as to find out what his Mother had requested.

 

[Lars Warren]

A month ago, Lars couldn't have imagined himself being in action again. Then again, he did not expect to live this long, through all that life in this Galaxy had thrown at him. In fact, he had learnt not to expect much at all, but to move forward without anticipation, like a wave in the ocean. It made life much simpler and happier. Of course, after the attack on Nal Hutta, there was always that feeling of fear. It's not usual that a bunch of thugs who support big slimes (read: Hutts) decide to try and take his life. Lars was in many life-threatening situations, but this one was different, as it had never been personal before.

However, that all is in the past, and Lars decided not to look back. He was now a member of a different organization, on a pretty warm place that offered him both action and safety from failure... failure in leadership, that is. Exiting the hyperspace in a freighter with no symbols and such which he "stole" from the Exchange, he looked around. The ship looked empty. Sighing, Lars made sure his old blaster was sheathed on his side, the maneuvered the freighter closer to Serenno, home of the Sacred Band of Ziost. Lars sent his autentification code before his vessel would be shot down. His relations with this great faction were... special. They knew that they couldn't trust each other, but considering Lars' contacts and potential power, he was left alone, if watched in their territory. Personally, Lars had no problem with them or their fascination with colour red. They were certainly better than the Republic in his eyes.

Suddenly, his sensors notified him of more ships in the orbit. It seemed that they were waiting for him. Lars sighed. He was almost late to the party. With a grin, contacted the transport ship. "Vigo Warren, ready when ya are," he said with a grin. He hoped that this escort mission would go better than the last one... though, the Ewok Incident is a great story to be told over a glass of Corellian fire whiskey.

 

[Rorren]

Bysk sighed as he sat in his ship's cockpit. Everything was quiet...apparently no one else was in a rush to take this job, which made him a little worried. The trandoshan wasn't exactly the most learned about dealings in the galaxy, especially in Sith territories. He rarely ever went to a Sith controlled planet, or Republic one's either...or the Border Alliance. Except maybe to scrap from old fights, Bysk tried to stay away from war. He didn't want to get caught up in a fight while it was happening.

But these were broader, easier conflicts to know about. Out here, in this unfamiliar space, this man could have a whole slew of people wanting him dead. He could be looking for people to hire as bodyguards for a reason he didn't know. Maybe it wasn't security, but a necessity. He could be in bad with some hutts, or be a Sith diplomat that the Border Alliance would try and assasinate. Bysk didn't want to become a part of this war if he didn't have to.

"Attention all craft, you are cleared for landing, please continue to the port-side docking bay. Payment details, as well as profiles of your fellow hires, are now being transmitted to your ships' computers. After landing, proceed to the conference room on the seventh floor for briefing." The staticky voice came through his intercomm, and his gaze moved from the large cruiser in front of him to look around. Sure enough, other crafts had shown up, it seemed he wasn't alone. That fact alone gave him a little bit of reassurance that this man wasn't outright wanted, that he had just been early...But still, there was the base reason for the fact that these other people had shown up. There was only one mechanic on the listing, the rest were guns for hire. It didn't matter who their employer was, a rich person was a rich person, and their destination was Nar Shaddaa. The closer they got, the more pirates there would be.

"Well, no point in turning back now..." Bysk let out under his breath to himself as he pushed the control sticks in his craft forward and began to fly towards the large ship before them.

@Asmodeus-bBB12bBb31

 

[Asmodeus-bBB12bBb31]

The silence that remained evident in the wake of the comms would be found unsettling to Jaris, being a Coruscant native, there wasn't ever any silence there, exactly. Not complete silence. But lucky enough for the Zelosian, the silence would be broken by the soon to be familiar flight director, briefing them with directions, and some kind of information. Jaris stopped listening after, "...Port-side docking bay." He'd press forward the acceleration gear, bringing the fighter into a steady drive towards the yacht-cruiser once again. As he approached the ship, Jaris would flick off the shield generator, and would deactivate the fighters personal hyperdrive, both habits picked up from flying vehicles in Coruscant.

After a few moments, Jaris would pull his fighter into the docking bay, decreasing the speed of his fighter excruciatingly, if only to avoid any mishaps. Not long from then, he'd land his craft in a relatively sparse spot. Jaris would lock the landing gear, and shut down the craft, only before popping the cockpit open, and climbing to the ground. He'd brush off his jacket, and run his cybernetic hand through his hair. Right well, properly landed? Check. Comfortable? There's room for improvement. Ah well, he'd look around at his environment briefly, before deciding to wait for the rest of his fellow mercs. Egh, dreadful term. Merc. Jaris more considered himself a 'Specialized Exterminator'. But that's enough of that, he'd lean back against his starship, sticking his hands in his pants pockets.

 

[The Captain]

Sitting in the cockpit of the ship, Cral's peaceful contemplation was interrupted by two distinct sounds. One was the family's agent checking in that they had infiltrated the target ship. Why the family had sent two majordomos to the same mission, one of whom was sent to infiltrate an enemy craft, was beyond him. But in the interest of maintaining the favor of the family, Cral was willing to swallow his questions and accept the situation.

"We read you, proceed as planned and make sure your locator beacon is on." They had no way of knowing up front what route the ship might take, so slipping a human tracking bug on board was a needed risk.

The other, more grating distraction, came from what he now come to understand as his new Overseer's OTHER pet, a rather melancholy human boy with a taste for the macabre. Waving for Shaya to handle him, the Nautolan bowed and moved to the cockpit door, opening it to address the man, who had been sent up before on more than one occasion for a litany of reasons. Whoever said "the best pawns have pawns of their own" should, in Cral's humble opinion, be dug up, shot, and buried again.

"Master Bastion, welcome. I assume you are here again on behalf of Mistress Ra'Kul?"

 

[EmilyHuene]

"Master Bastion, welcome. I assume you are here again on behalf of Mistress Ra'Kul?"

"My Mother wishes to know when we will be striking. She does not like to be kept waiting." He would look at her with simple eyes. His tone was not forceful, just factual. He was straight to the point and very calm when doing so. He was, a very analytical person, despite the fact he was a stone-cold killer. His eyes would look past Shaya and over to Cral sitting in the cockpit. He didn't care or mind. He'd then look back at Shaya expecting an answer.

@Lars Warren

 

[Rorren]

Bysk slowly brought his ship down as he slowed it to a stop in the large luxury cruiser's hangar. Brushing past the blue forcefield, the inside of the hangar became clear. It had hustling workers and loaders preparing for the flight, and looked somewhat industrialistic with it's black, white, and blue-mixed colors. Supply crates where being moved around by the workers in orange vests, bright orange which was even more apparent to Bysk's trandoshan eyes. At least they did their job very effectively, as he could easily see the loaders to avoid landing on anyone. His landing gear came out, and he made an easy landing in one of the spaces left clear obviously for incoming ships.

Soon he was walking out, wearing his furred jacket that kept his more cold-blooded body warm in the chilled open room of the hangar. Even as a rich count, keeping a hangar heated -especially of this significant size- would be an incredibly expensive waste. Looking up as he walked out, he saw a supervisor staring down at his ship from a walkway above, and then to the other vessels flying in. The trandoshan followed the man's gaze to the new arrivals, watching as one by one they landed in line with his own across the hangar's open spaces that awaited them. Everything in the hangar had almost a militaristic type of professionalism, leaving the less...polished ships of the mercenaries, for lack of a better word, seen very out of place. But along with different in the hangar, it was clear whoever was in charge of this Count's security was hoping to see a difference in the amount of protection provided. It could have even been the Count himself desiring a more skilled guard detail. Bysk was sure then he would be mistaken as one such gun for hire if the other's hadn't read his profile yet. He was simply the mechanic.

@Asmodeus-bBB12bBb31

 

[Asmodeus-bBB12bBb31]

As mercenary upon mercenary brought themselves into the landing bay, Jaris would let his head rest upon his left shoulder. If he had any care about it, he'd note how each ship was a bit different than the last, all sorts of species were around him, etc, etc. But he really didn't care, in fact, he'd rest his eyes shut for a few moments before opening them again to find the mercs hobbling on towards some direction, and just as anyone in his position would do, he'd stand straight again, and would follow after them. Bringing his hands out of their pockets, he'd zip up his jacket and would stick said hands into the jacket pockets. He may have seen colder temperatures in his day, but that didn't mean he liked it any. As he proceeded to follow the other mercenaries, his gaze would slowly drift to the ship workers cautiously, looking them up and down as he passed them by. A little healthy paranoia does everyone good, right?

Not long from then, he would find himself being led to a sort of conference room. How fancy, someone obviously thinks highly of their evening tea time, considering this sky boat was just a luxury ship, from what he recollects. But hey, they might have right intense staring competitions over a morning meal in here, that's what rich folk do, yeah. As everyone found their spot, Jaris would lean up against the wall beside the door. Hopefully this will be quick, and they can all get to work, light knows Jaris just wants to get his money, and get home as fast as possible. Running his eyes over the room, Jaris would find himself bored rather quickly. Top grade materials. Fine lighting, and heating. Rich people did enjoy their top notch rooms, he supposes.

@Captain Hook

 

[The Captain]

"My Mother wishes to know when we will be striking. She does not like to be kept waiting."

Shaya had spent much of her time around Bellatrix wondering who in her ever changing cabal of strangers, Ms. Ra'Kul included, was the worst. Needless to say this response had but Bastion a bit higher up the running. Still, the Nautolan managed to maintain her composure, smiling politely before responding in the most pleasant tone she could manage.

"Our agent has just infiltrated the ship, and they should be leaving the surface soon. We'll begin pursuit once they have left Sith space."

@EmilyHuene

 

[EmilyHuene]

"Our agent has just infiltrated the ship, and they should be leaving the surface soon. We'll begin pursuit once they have left Sith space."

"Thank you," he would respond just as kind. He didn't like pestering them just as much as they hated hearing it. "I'll let Mother know."

Bastion would then take his leave and report back to Bellatrix. There wasn't anything they could do currently, so they would wait...

@Rorren

 

[Rorren]

As the droves of ships flew in, the inspector above stared over the owners of the newly landed crafts with seeming disdain. But none the less, pressing a chip on his collar, he spoke.

"Bounty hunters, you now why you are here. We are taking off shortly, and I expect to see you all on your, well, best behavior. You are guards, not thieves. And I promise you your pay will be much more rewarding than risking burglary. Now, with that being said, the datapads in front of you should be specific to your name. They carry your posts and areas of responsibility pertaining to this vessel. Please read them thoroughly. I expect you all to understand you duties with perfect clarity. Should you have any questions, you are able to post such things on your datapads and the messages will be delivered to me to address as I see fit." The man spoke, the chip on his collar sending his voice over the intercomm inside the room. "With that cleared, you may take your datapads and look them over. You are dismissed." He told them, before turning and walking out of the room, leaving the group of mercenaries sitting by themselves at the table.

Bysk looked down at his datapad, then to the Zilosian next to him, noticing the robotic arm then. Being a gun for hire in this galaxy was much more dangerous than a mechanic, and it made him happy he didn't live that laugh. Though, maybe it would be exciting...

"Sso...Are you working anywhere near engineering?" His reptilian voice spoke, somewhat rough, but not too thick from a normal voice. He might as well try to be somewhat social.

@Asmodeus-bBB12bBb31

 

[Asmodeus-bBB12bBb31]

It wouldn't take long for Jaris to read over his tablet, nice and simple. Escort, defend, blah blah blah. An average cut from the block, when it came to mercenary work. The Zelosian would lower his tablet to his side as he was spoken to. It was one of those lizard folk, real big ones maybe. Jaris wasn't perfectly on par with every species. "Ah, sure. Two words, biological disassembly. I shoot 'em 'til they fall apart. Real advanced engineerin', special license required, an' all." He'd reply in a dry tone, looking over Bysk briefly before bringing up his tablet again. He was either being completely sarcastic, or in a demented way, completely serious. As always, he'd leave that up to the audiences decision, the audience being Bysk.

After another minute or so of reading the tablet, he'd turn off the screen, and would clear up his throat. He should say something, but hey, he doesn't feel like it. Does just as he did in the hangar bay, he'd remain silent, waiting for the rest of the group to proceed. He wasn't in any rush, and he certainly didn't want to seem eager. Jaris made a point of seeming nonchalant when he partook in any work. It made it so others had more difficulty getting a read on his agenda in the current op. Which now seemed key, as he speculated his employers didn't trust them any, with reason of course, but nonetheless. Jaris would cross his arms, still holding the tablet. He'd return his gaze to Bysk, proceeding to look over the group again, only before returning his gaze back to Bysk. And now he waits for the first merc to leave the room.

@Captain Hook

 

[The Captain]

Jaris didn't have to wait long, as a young human male was the first to exit the room, striding through the halls like a man on a mission. Which made sense, as he was on a mission, to make sure the Desajilic's could track the ship and had help on the inside. Doing his best to look casual, he ducked into a small supply closet in a side hallway, drawing a small personal commlink from his overalls. Making one last check for any surveillance equipment, he activated the device, whispering into it as if someone was somehow miraculously listening.

"Majordomo, majordomo, I have infiltrated the vessel, and we'll be underway soon."

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
"Perfect, once you have left Sith space, we'll intercept you at the first stop on your hyperspace route. Over and out."

With that Cral leaned forward on his command chair, toggling his comm from their agent to the ship's PA. Clearing his throat, he delivered the much awaited message throughout the ship.

"Ladies and gentlemen, battlestations, the enemy vessel is preparing to depart."

 

[EmilyHuene]

"Ladies and gentlemen, battlestations, the enemy vessel is preparing to depart."

Bastian didn't even have to say anything to his Mother as he returned to her side due to the more than welcomed announcement. She would smirk and crack her knuckles as she turned to face him, "It's about time." Together, the two of them would return to her quarters and prepare themselves for the upcoming battle.

@Rorren

 

[Rorren]

Bysk's expression faded from an awkwardly attempted socialness to a more awkward, slight stare of a mix of confusion and fear, he not even knowing which was more prevelent from what Jaris had said to him.

"Ssorry, um, I'm actually jusst a mechanic." Bysk said then, wondering if this was hust bounty hunter humor, but the tone just confused him even more, and he didn't blame it on his somewhat lacking social skills.

"Right, anywayss, that'ss a good prossthetic model. SSeemss ssturdy, reliable. Good engineering." The trandoshan tried to change the subject then, and choosing to steer towards something he could understand himself. However, he didn't dare ask what happened, he planned to stay as safe as possible on this trip and get paid, simple as that. He didn't need to get in the bad side of someone who seemed like he would be interested in boots made from Bysk pelt.

@Asmodeus-bBB12bBb31

 

[Asmodeus-bBB12bBb31]

Fixing on his gaze on the young male as he left the room, Jaris would return his arms to his side as he would look back to Bysk. "Ugnaught made. When we're done 'ere, I can give yah his contact. But 'ey, kid. Ain' we suppose tah be goin' an' doin' a job or somethin'?" Jaris would go on impatiently now, tone still as dry as before. Small talk was fine and good when he was back at his bar, maybe. But right now, he merely wanted to get mobilized. It was bad luck to slack around, it breeds a state of laziness, and lack of motivation. Straightening up, Jaris would clear his throat once more. "Yah bothered tah talk tah me kid, now yah stuck with me. C'mon." He'd say to Bysk, motioning to the door with his head. "Sure yah don' wanna be here any longer than I do." He'd start heading out the door, checking to see if the Trando was following him.

@Captain Hook

 

[The Captain]

As the ship finally got underway, the Desajilic infiltrator slipped from his hiding place and began to navigate through the ship down to the engine room. As he did, he slipped a small datacard into his datapad, bringing up a map of the ship's route Nar Shadda, with Sith space highlighted in red. Toggling the map on and off as people passed him by, taking pains to ensure no one saw him with the active map, he navigated through the ship. He needed to reach the engine room undeterred, and sabotage the ship's hyperdrive once they left Sith Space, as the Sith would be slower to respond to the noble's inevitable distress call if he was outside their territory. If they even responded at all, that is.

Not long after the ship left orbit and made the jump, Cral's escort ship jumped after them, following them through hyperspace from outside the range of their scanners. This mission hinged as much on their ability to remain undetected as their agent's.