Spice Mines

-Martin
Very well, we will return you to your gear & send you back on your way. We expect the communications black-out to end shortly.

With that the Captain was dismissed & led back the way he came. His 'escorts' only left him once he was safely on the other side of the mine field. The station itself would still be remaining on alert until the communications were restored.

Where she comes from, or how long she has been here, nobody knows. Janielle's presence is a source of curiosity, and a mystery to all. She often speaks nothing sensible, but there is one thing none will deny: Her ability to locate valuable minerals, and to forewarn of the coming of the dreaded energy spiders. There is almost no doubt about the fact that the girl is definitely Force-Sensitive. And she is most certainly from a time long gone. The way she dresses, and that crystal staff she holds, which lights up whenever she touches the source, it is all indicative of a witch or a Force-User. Whether she gets paid for her services and assistance is unknown. But she continues to serve, to help. Even now, she points out for the miners. ??There...?? she says, in her musical voice. And they find a rich source of minerals.

She is most certainly not human.

She glows. Literally.

Later that evening, she forewarns everyone to flee, when the spiders come. Though she warns the others to run, she stays, and the spiders pass by her unmolested. They ignore her as if they don't even see her there. And she stands her ground, writing in the sand with the end of her staff.

Nobody knows if she is happy with her life here, but then, who would be? The girl returns to a room prepared for her, and she sits on the bed, staring blankly at the wall. Staring...beyond it.

??Come the morrow, all will see blessing.??

??In promised clarity, the storm shall rip assunder.??

??Blessed is the man whose will is pure, and whose heart, amidst darkness, brings light to the blind.??

??And sorrow to the ones who held the will of free men, for slaves they made of them, and slaves shall they themselves be.??

??Such is the repayment of the sin. Come the morrow, come the morrow...??

She places her staff on its tip end, and it stands on its own, providing a luminous greenish-blue light as she falls asleep on her small bed.

The sleeve of Srecko's thermal suit rustles as he holds a hand out to accept the device his Sullustan minion, Ngozi, holds out to him.

As Srecko scans the video files on the datapad, Ngozi tells him, "You were right boss. Wasn't too hard to find someone that whipped out their datapad to video what was going on."

Nodding, rubbing his left horn as he watches the video of a recent blaster fight in the streets of Kessendra, Srecko says, "Hmm. Funny isn't it? Seems like everyone has one of these nowadays, he waggles the datapad, from tiny younglings to the shriveled elderly. You'd think the first instinct when a firefight or some other disaster breaks out would be to run as fast and far from it as possible, wouldn't you? Instead it seems the first thing anyone thinks to do these days is take out their datapad and take some video. Incredible, isn't it? Shrugging as he pauses the video, turning the screen so that Ngozi can see the paused image of a humanoid male wielding twin DC-15s sidearms, Srecko grins and says, Useful too, at times. Meet Captain 'Ric Daklan'. Tossing the datapad back to the Sullustan, Srecko says, Get that to our old Ranger friend, have him find out everything he can about Captain 'Daklan' and any of his friends on that video."

"Want me to tell him to put a rush on it?"

Pursing his lips in thought, Srecko shakes his head after a moment spent considering the question, "No. Let's give 'Daklan' and friends some time to breathe, some time to think we'll just cut our losses. Let them relax, and get complacent. I don't want them to see us coming."

With a groan, Janos fell in a heap onto his horribly uncomfortable metal cot. Around him, dozens of sentients did exactly as him, a few cursing their First Order captors. The work day was over, and Janos had never been so grateful for a horizontal surface that he could simply sit still upon. Even now, his hands still tingled from phantom vibration - brought about by the damnable sonic impacter he had been using for eighteen hours. They would be allowed to sleep, now, for about four hours, before being awoken to eat for an hour before heading back to work.

To his left, a Sullustan fell into his caught, turning his head to eye Janos with his large black eyes. "Tee-bit-ah-o-ah-the-yairee u! (You ********** human, how the hell do we make money off of this!)" The Sullustan muttered crossly in Sullustese, jabbing a finger at Janos.

Defensively, Janos held up his hands. "Woah, woah...Dutch, buddy, come on. No need for such strong language." Uncomfortably, Janos shifted on his cot - the novelty of being still wearing off, the reality that he was laying down on a slab of metal was quickly pressing in - on his back, at least. "I said I'd find him, and I will, alright? Just settle down."

"Huh-dou-lamou-mutee-hareh-hareh-ac--te’ill! (You settle down! Did you hear that scream today in the mines? I was right next to that guy!)"

"Dutch, if I had known there were man-eating spiders on this planet -"

"Huh-spyr-do!? (Spiders?)" Interrupted Dutch.

"Then I would have gone a different route than getting intentionally captured." Finished Janos, without missing a beat.

For a long moment the Sullustan stared at him, the look on the alien's face indicating he was either going to start screaming, start hitting, or simply go to sleep. Taking a deep breath, Dutch closed his eyes, before opening them and leaning in to Janos. "Jan-Os-Oh-hareh-Deh-yairee u-gate-the-bit-chu me...-lamou-huh-kay-mu-hareh-o-mu." (Janos, we've worked together a while now, but honestly, what's the plan here? You've never steered us wrong. But backup is gone, and you haven't found him.)"

"We have the ShadowNet. Some merc will save us." Said Janos, steering around the question.

"Me-the-dou-seh-me-bitu." (I'd give that about a fifty percent chance of success-considering we have nothing to pay them with.) The Sullustan said, deadpan. "Ah-dou-Deh-kay-huh-hareh-Mu-mu-mu-gate-oh-ah-mu." (Stop deflecting, and stop stalling. We've been here a week. Have you, or have you not found him yet.)

"I found him." Janos said, firmly. "Problem is, he's in solitary."

"E-the-chu me-o-ac-hareh-lamou-hareh-te’ill-tee." (Their idea of solitary is a joke. A cluster of cells with open bars? What's the problem then. Oh...wait)

"Yeah. Sorry." At that exact second, Janos smashed a fist into the Sullustan's face, who screamed out in pain. In unison, all the inmates present jumped up from there cots. And Janos was there to meet him. A knee to the groin, an elbow to the face, a fist into a throat - the thief whirled and twirled, dancing about the inmates in an impressive display of fighting ability. It had to be impressive. It had to be enough to convince the guards that he was a danger, and that he needed to be taught a lesson. And, all too soon, the marching of combat boots underfoot echoed down the halls; bursting into the prisoner barrack, a whole platoon of riot troopers, batons out and swinging, stun blasters firing, proceeded to "subdue" (in First Order terms) the unruly prisoners. Janos especially was beaten multiple times, before a pair of guards grabbed him by his feet, forcibly dragging him out of the barrack to solitary.

The last thing he saw before he slipped into unconsciousness was Dutch on the ground, drool dripping out of his mouth, eyes crossed, giving a rude hand gesture to Janos as was being dragged away.

Solitary. Not named because the cells were separated, but because if you died in one of those cells - the only person you'd see was yourself. And dying was quite the possibility: located in an arm of the complex close to the surface, enviro-filters and air systems had been turned down to minimum, allowing outside air and atmosphere in. The result? Thin air that one could barely breathe in, and a bone numbing cold that was just barely survivable. Considering the entire cell was made out of near frozen metal, it made for a sleepless and unpleasant experience. It only took a handful of times in solitary, combined with the grueling work rotations, to either force sentients to behave, or, well, eliminate the problem entirely.

As such, the first thing Janos noticed as he came to was the biting cold, like a sheet of ice coating his back. Groaning, slowly rising to his hands and knees, he proceeded to vomit a trail of yellow bile across the ground, as the riots previous beatings caught up to him. "Oh, yeah, that's gross." He muttered into the dark, teeth chattering. They didn't even bother to power the lights on in this area - which was in line with their modus operandi at this point, honestly. Just barely, he could make out the durasteel bars of his cell, and the grid-like durasteel grating the Imperials were so fond of. Though, if there was anyone in the vicinity, he couldn't tell. "...Hello?" Asked Janos, his voice cracking in the cold. When no one replied, Janos winced, his head leaning back against a frozen metal wall with a dull *thunk*. "Ah, damn it. Come on, it's too damn cold for this! Is there anyone here, or not?"

His voice echoed in the dark, and Janos had to pause briefly to breathe. Even those few sentences made him out of breath. And then he heard it; a slight rustle of cloth, a shifting of weight. He wasn't alone, here in the dark. "Constant Hetch? Is that you?" Once again, Janos' voiced echoed in the room, with no answer forthcoming. Cursing low under his breath, Janos changed tactics. "Heavy duranium particulate, plas-bonded through an oscillation condenser at one hundred to three hundred pikohertz, pressure treated and then heat tempered, process repeated four to five times as needed. Duranium amalgamate should be no thinner than a millimeter, to be molecularly bonded through -"

Suddenly, in the dark, an old voice echoed out, interrupting Janos.

"Incorrect. Duranium amalgamate is to be liquified through ion fuser, then mixed with phrik alloy, to be molecularly bonded by an oscillator through charged particle bombardment. But...you knew that, didn't you?" Said the old voice, thin and quavering.

"A man's research is like the work of an artist; for it to be misrepresented is the same as rending an artist's soul." Said Janos, with certainty. "And your research on chemical bonding of metals, especially phrik, is quite artful. Especially in relation to its application to Magna-lock safes."

The old man cackled in the dark, almost certainly shaking his head. "So much effort, just to meet an old safe maker? If you know so much of my work, why seek me out?"

"A certain paper you published; one that pointed out severe flaws of phrik bonding when using plas-bonding and ion fusing techniques. Now, by itself this wouldn't mean much. However, a week before DuraTech safes and vaults released a new type of safe that you did research on...a phrik bonding safe. I can't imagine they were too happy by your paper. Especially given that you did the research for them, that proved the material in the first place."

Silence reigned, and, for a long moment, Janos was afraid that the Doctor has passed out, or was otherwise ignoring him.

"I...I told them it was flawed. They didn't believe me. They had my understudy prove the materials exceptional strength and resiliency. Even tested a lightsaber against it. It was....phenomenal. But I proved with a harmonic resonation, that the bonding could be nearly completely undone. But, by the time I proved it, they had already put it into production." Began Constant, who trailed off to catch his breath.

"Yes. Lot forty-five. It was hailed as DuraTech's flagship vault - the most secure vault ever made. Uncrackable. Stock in DuraTech rose by nearly a hundred percent." Said Janos, appreciatively. At the tone in Janos' voice, the Doctor laughed, apparently having regained his strength.

"Is that why you're here? To crack the uncrackable safe?" Asked Constant, his voice a bare whisper in the dark.

"Yes. I want to steal from the head of DuraTech itself. And who better to arm me with the tools I need than you? They put you here, didn't they? They would have gone bankrupt if you had come forward. Tell me how to break the safe, and I swear to you, that I'll get you out of here." Implored Janos, no small amount of desperation in his voice.

For a long moment there was silence, followed by a hollow echoing laugh. "Get me out? Even if we left now, I'd be done for. Spice inhalation does terrible things to ones lungs. None the less, I'll tell you; if only for revenge, and your promise that you'll beat the safe. Do I have that, at least?"

"I swear to you, I'll beat it." Said Janos passionately, crawling to the bars and pressing his ear into the gap - so that he might hear every word the man said. Already, the elderly sentient's voice was getting weaker and weaker. Janos feared that, as Constant had said, that he didn't have much time for the world.

"You will need four sonic emitters capable of wireless syncing, set equidistant from each other at a minimum distance of one point five meters away from each other. No more, no less. You must set them on a rotating frequency of five pikohertz, ramped up one pikohertz every cycle until resonation occurs. This paired with an energy drill with a beam strength of one Erg, and a diameter of three millimeters, will achieve penetration. Upon resonation, it will......" Constant's voice trailed off, and Janos, pressing his face practically between the bars, feared he hadn't heard the rest.

"Doctor? Doctor! But no answer came - only a long sigh, a death rattle from deep in the elderly man's chest, and then...silence. The Doctor had told Janos just in time, just before dying. Question was, was the information he provided complete? And was it enough to break through one of DuraTech's infamous safes?

Down the hall, boots approached, yanking Janos out of his thoughts. Perhaps they were coming to retrieve the elderly man's body. Perhaps they were here to talk to him. Only time would tell.

Blinding light. Eyes closing voluntarily, Janos kept them shut - listening to the sudden guest as they advanced. The portal closing, he hesitantly peeked - before fully opening his eyes - once he was sure the blinding light was completely gone. Soft footsteps walked forward to the cells; not the heavy boots of a man, but the decidedly lighter-step of a female. By the pacing, a humanoid.


"Now...this, this is interesting." Said Janos in reply. "The base Commander is a weasel of a man, and you are plainly a woman. You're no First Order Officer, else you'd have a guard detail. Which means...you're someone new. Leave it to a woman to pique my interest - more than anyone else on this barren rock." Said Janos lightly, seemingly unconcerned. "Excuse me, for but a second." He muttered, apologizing. Struggling up from his position on hands and knees, he rolled backward, sitting cross-legged, back to the wall. "Sorry about that. Now...where were we."

Eyes straining, he could make out but just the faint outline of her cloak, a slim figure wrapped in black was all he could see. She intended to keep him off guard, apparently. Internally, he racked his brain - had he stolen something of value from the Order? He honestly couldn't remember. You'd figure he'd remember something apparently so vital, but, alas...such was the life of a thief. All too many fortunes gained and lost over glasses of wine and fine food. He could have easily gambled it away, or otherwise given it away to impress some young and pliant sentient on some distant sphere. Or...was this thing something special?

"You'll have to be a tad bit more specific dearheart...I've stolen many a gem and jewel."

Lightning. And with it came light - wincing once more, Janos squinted against the light, taking in the grim visage of one angry Zabrak female. There was no mistaking the woman now, not even in the darkness. Wreathed in arcing electricity, it could only be one person. "Sparky!" Came the pet name - a name that didn't fit the menacing Sith in front of him. "Ah, come on Sparky...don't be that girl. I told you, baby, I'm true to my nature...I follow all that glitters. I didn't mean to leave so suddenly...but hey, baby, a ten carat occluded Chrysopaz doesn't steal itself. Especially when sitting around the neck of a Duchess."

Janos leaned back against the cell wall, a good distance from the bars - less out of fear of being zapped, and more because he found the light uncomfortable. Closing his eyes, he held up his hands defensively. "Besides, I've never doubted your passion; and a gem is no trifle. It is, perhaps, the best metaphor for you and you alone sweeting. Enormous pressures, violent, unrestrained, swirling in a miasma of heat and energy - all coalescing to a single point to produce a single gleaming drop, a single minuscule stone, the labors of something great and terrible to produce something cold and hard, yet...beautiful. Does that not describe you?" A wicked grin formed on Janos' face, and he cracked open a single eye, regarding her with a maroon gaze that was as equally red as her own skin.

But then the grin faded, and Janos slumped a little in his cell. "...I told you Sparky, I don't have a heart. There's just a lump of carbon in there that never got the chance to turn to gold." A sigh, and Janos opened both eyes, leaning forward, smiling widely. "You know I'm here on business. So you know that I won't be here long. Not that this crappy third rate prison could hold me for too long." Said Janos, snorting at the very idea. "So what's your plan Sparks?"

"Not concerned with my obsessions, past or present? Yet you want to know why I'm here - when it is my very obsession that draws me to this place." Janos gave a wry laugh and a mischievous wink, shaking his head slightly. "Oh, Sparky, you always make me out to be far more complicated than I really am. Or...is that what I want you to think?" Janos tapped his temple, knowing full well the Sith couldn't get into his fortress of a mind. If there was one thing and one thing only that the universe had blessed him with - it was his racial immunity to mental based force tricks. It had proven invaluable in his line of work, again and again. There were, after all, only so many tricks one could spin.

As Sparky sat down in front of his cage, her eyes closing - presumably centering herself in the force - Janos openly admired her. It had been a while since he had seen her last, and she hadn't changed a bit; lithe and dangerous, she was as red as a Tumanian pressure-ruby, cloak hugging an inviting and familiar form. Inwardly, Janos felt a pull towards her, remembering elder days of wine and silk sheets. And, for a moment, he contemplated making it all easy for her. Having been traveling with nothing but a talkative male Sullustan made for lonely company, after all. All too quickly, though, he shook his head slightly - clearing the thoughts. It wasn't that Janos was a womanizer - he had met plenty of beautiful woman, and had declined to fawn over them like some hormonal beast in heat. Rather, Janos was drawn to the beautiful and truly unique, coveting possession of that uniqueness in a truly singular obsession; an obsession that, like his current predicament, routinely got him into trouble.

Janos grinned slightly, pleased at her question. "You're much more observant now. You used to get so frustrated at not being able to get into my head." Janos paused, debating whether or not to tell her the truth, before visually shrugging - deciding to indulge her. His latest obsession had very little to do with her, after all, and few (if any) of his past lovers had gone to any serious lengths to deliberately thwart a heist. "A safe-maker. Well, a researcher of metal compounds who worked for a safe company. Dealt in phrik - nasty stuff in my profession; as well as yours I believe. Little problematic to get past...so I went to the source on how to get past their designs. Even with the solution, I fear it's going to take an entire team of professionals to break into the their vault."

a thought occurred to Janos, then, and he smiled devilishly. He didn't know how deep her loyalty to the First Order ran. Not that he cared. But why not play a few games?

"Imagine my surprise that my next hit will be a Moff's personal reserve - my first First Order target. Would your superiors be displeased if they knew that information? Would they, perhaps, even order you to stop me? Tighten security?"