Rapture
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Post by Rapture on Mar 9, 2016 21:31:16 GMT -8
One thing Hensley was known for was strategy and hearing them both only peeked her curiosity tatooine is well known for its natives which are incredibly violent to outsiders her mind relayed in the deepest recesses. Twas a hard decision, yet one that could clearly go both ways within reason.
We head for Bespin first to establish trade lanes of our own, Tatooine can wait she commented as she looked to Zalus and then tore her attention to the hutt No offense meant, but I don't trust the planet of tatooine with such a small force she remarked and and then added It is known for its hostility after all and then left it at that.
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Post by Deleted on Mar 11, 2016 19:45:42 GMT -8
Kolga takes a few moments to consider the comparable worth of Tatooine and Bespin. While the desert world would mark a victory in his campaign to reunify hutt space, Bespin was clearly worth more in monetary matters. The mining facilities there were simply too lucrative to ignore.
Move on Bespin first, take some of my soldiers if you feel it necessary. Install a new overseer of the gas mining operations, either one you, or one of you trusted lieutenants. Claim the resources of that world for the Desilijic Cartel and you will have more than proven yourself as a worthy partner in our organization. Tatooine will come after, fully supplemented by my troops.
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Rapture
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Post by Rapture on Mar 11, 2016 19:54:18 GMT -8
Grinning Hensley nodded her head, turned on her heels and walked out the cantina, she didn't need to hear more as there was no use in listening to a worm blabber on and on.
Rounding the corner she got to the elevator and waited.
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Zalus Bidan
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Post by Zalus Bidan on Mar 12, 2016 12:51:33 GMT -8
"Sounds like a plan, farewell for now Kolga," Zalus saluted to him and headed out to the elevator where Hensley was. He smirked at her and changed the glasses tint to sunglasses mode. He pushed them back up against the bridge of his nose and chuckled to her.
"Still find me entertaining? Or are you going to stab me in my sleep on this trip? If you do, you better have my eulogy prepared. I want flowers too, and make sure to invite my relatives, I actually keep in good standing with them. If not though, I'll watch your back, if you watch mine," He lowered his glasses to look at her eye to eye. He nodded confidently, but he was still quite unsure about having a darkside user aboard his ship. Not that he didn't do bad things himself, but he already had three rowdy crewmates.
"Also, I have a ship and a crew. They are more than suited to the task of anything we set ourselves out to do," He leaned back against the elevator as the doors closed, and moved down to the lobby.
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Rapture
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Post by Rapture on Mar 12, 2016 17:39:29 GMT -8
Chuckling as she heard him spout the bullshit he did Hensley moved into the elevator and slammed the button down and then responded Long as you and your crew behave yourself like good little boys, all will be fun she toyed and leaned against the wall as the elevator slid down the track.
The doors opened and she smirked as she departed.
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Zalus Bidan
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Post by Zalus Bidan on Mar 12, 2016 17:52:57 GMT -8
"Hmmph...calling me a boy...cruel, but I'll let it pass," He waved his hand dismissively, and when the elevator landed he made his way back to his Minstrel Class Star Yacht. The trip back did not take nearly as long since they both knew the way back. After about ten minutes of travel they made it back to the spaceport, and stood in front of his ship. It was a dark navy blue ship, with darker blue trimmings. It looked like it was well maintained and rolled right off the assembly line. Zalus smiled to Hensley.
"Fortune's Favorite, my minstrel class Star Yacht. Inside it carries a skipray blastboat, one N-1 interceptor, and I'm saving up for four A wings. It's an elegant ship for travelling the mid rim."
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Rapture
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Post by Rapture on Mar 12, 2016 17:57:17 GMT -8
Giggling as she looked upon it and then looked at him What a beaute she mocked and placed her hand to her ear and spoke Commander I am leaving in another, make sure to remain alert just in case she then turned to zalus and made her gesture after you with a comical tone.
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Zalus Bidan
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Post by Zalus Bidan on Mar 12, 2016 18:20:38 GMT -8
"Well let's go meet the fam," He headed aboard once the door opened to the hangar. Inside were his three dealers of death and job security. They were all doing their own things while waiting for Zalus to get back. TBA was fixing up the N-1 Starfighter, MIA was practicing his swordsmanship and quick strikes, and KIA was cleaning his Trandoshan ACP shotgun.
"Fam, Hensley, Hensley, fam, not the family i was referring to for my eulogy though. Don't get them confused, you'll insult my name. MIA is our steath, and reconnaissance expert. KIA, heavy weapons, mercenary, and TBA...he's...well...he does a little bit of everything. Don't kill him though, because he's the one that keeps his fingers plugged in arteries when they bleed. In fact, don't kill the others either. Now that we have introductions out of the way, let's get to Bespin."
The other three stopped what they were doing and saluted to Zalus.
::It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance,:: MIA nodded to her, speaking though his ubese stealthsuit helmet.
"Finally, someone prettier than Zalus," KIA chuckled.
"Don't mind KIA, he's a brute..." TBA answered.
"Well, intros out of the way, let's get up to the bridge and shove off for bespin!" Zalus headed up to the command bridge, and took his captain's chair. The others took their stations and the ship got underway for take off.
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Rapture
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Post by Rapture on Mar 12, 2016 18:26:23 GMT -8
hensley rolled her eyes as she noticed his make shift crew and continued to allow him to lead the way, she took deliberate notice of their so called brute and glared for a moment and then decided to ignore him for now.
Not much of a guard she remarked as she swayed past them and pulled out a small container, opened it and took out a small rollie and put it back.
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Zalus Bidan
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Post by Zalus Bidan on Mar 12, 2016 18:39:37 GMT -8
::If he did not trust you or your intentions he would not have even brought you aboard Miss Hensley, or let you in on Bespin,:: MIA shook his head and looked at the sensors array to make sure that nothing was following them. He took a rag and wiped off the dash, there was still blood on it from the last man.
"Enough, TBA take us up," Zalus commanded.
"Of course," TBA brushed his blonde hair out of his face as he began to bring the ship into a slow ascent and slight pitch upward for orbit. He throttled up and the ship blasted off into orbit, and their destination.
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Zalus Bidan
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Post by Zalus Bidan on Apr 12, 2016 12:45:19 GMT -8
::Kolga my brother! We captured the objective, both Cloud City, and Tibannopololis are yours. Congratulations on your castle in the sky and the extra income.::
A message finally came through from Zalus on the holochannel for Kolga.
::Sadly, Hensely had no interest in the plans after all, so she bailed. No matter though, consider Cloud City and the Tibanna trade in your hands. Shall I head to the next objective for you? Or was there something else in mind you had for me?::"
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Post by Kirith Aridigo on Oct 14, 2017 20:48:23 GMT -8
Gork's Mechanical Emporium stood near the edge of the warehouse district of the Corellian Sector, seperating a junkyard and a barber shop (people still needed their hair cut even in a sketchy warehouse district). The building itself was rather unremarkable. It was an industrial dingy gray, like most of the converted warehouses in the district. Gork's had two street facing entrances. The left side held an entrance servicable for some of the larger sentient humanoid beings. Indeed, it seemed as if it could even service a rancor, if one learned how to use such things as door handles and keypads. On the opposite side stood an even larger garage door, perfect for admitting any vehicle or shops that needed servicing.
The garage door that was currently open, as the owner of Gork's Mechanical Emporium, a large black herglic named Gork, yelled instructions to the contractor currently piloting a small luxery yaht from one of the big gamblers from the nicer side of the district, into the garage. His voice, large and booming, barely managed to make itself heard over the loud rock music blaring from further into the garage.
Lucky for the pilot, she had done this sort of thing hundreds of times before, and the yelling from the herglic was more for show, rather than anything else.
Once the vehicle was safely backed into the garage, she turned off the engine, and hoped out, heading back towards the herglic. The pilot was somewhere in her thirties, with short brown hair, a short if curvey figure, and a face that was always quick to smile. She wore green overalls that sported the occasional grease stain, with a utility belt on top.
"Pretty boat," she yelled up to the herglic, pointing back to the ship. She didn't handle too many fancy ships these days, mostly sticking to the ship she had been taking care of an reparing for almost the last twenty years.
"Pretty useless," he replied. "Just another way for those yuppies in the gambling district to show off their wealth." Gork grinned, showing a full mouth of very large teeth. "Me? I prefer speed,"
"You and me both," she said with a smile.
There were a few minutes of companionable silence (or as much silence as one could get with Hyperspace To Hell loudly playing in the background) between the two of them as the admired the beauty (at least on the outside) of the ship inside. After a few minutes, Gork said, "So, Kirith, what's your plan exactly?"
"What do you mean?"
"Kid, the repairs on the Cat's Paw were finished five months ago. Since you came of age, I've never seen you stay on this moon for more than a few months, and you've been here almost a full year."
"Well, you needed the help after Carth stole half your employees," she said. "And someone had to help train the newbies."
"... and I appreciate all your help there kid," said Gork, a large hand patting the human on the back, causing the woman to start forward a bit from the impact in order to keep balence. "But the shop is doing fine now. You don't have to keep sticking around from sort of feeling that you owe me anything."
"Maybe I like sticking around," she said, poking Gork in the side with one finger.
"That's a lie," he said with a boombing laugh. "A kind one, but a lie nevertheless. Flying is in your blood, girl. You've helped me out, and I appreciate it, but maybe it's time to go live your life again."
Kirith frowned a little, thinking that over. It was true, she did miss flying, traveling from place to place, with nothing tying her down anywhere. But where would she go next? She had gotten oddly used to the routine of Nar Shaddaa. Maybe a little too used to it. She wasn't even sure where to begin. It wasn't like she had a lot of money. Did any of her old contacts even have work available for her?
"I'll think about it," she said finally.
"You do that, kid." said Gork. "This shop, it's my life. But it's not yours." Another jarring back pat. "But I will always be here for you if you need it."
Kirith smiled up at Gork, feeling her eyes get oddly watery. "I don't know what I would have done without you, Gork." she said, reaching out and giving the large herglic a one armed hug that managed to reach only a quarter of the way around his large bicep.
The herglic smiled down at the human, touched by the rare display of affection. After a long moment he clapped her on the back one last time. "Well, think it over. For now, let's look at this transmission."
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Post by Orar Traat'aliit on Oct 15, 2017 8:09:34 GMT -8
Nar Shaddaa; Never before a more wretched hive of... No. I can't use that. Nar Shaddaa; If there's a bright center to the universe then this is the planet that its farthest... No. That's not mine either. What a piece of junk? No? Dammit! Clears throat several times... Nar Shaddaa, The Smugglers Moon. Certainly no holiday resort unless one liked gambling and decadence. The denizens that inhabited the moon-city were enough to give even the toughest adventurer pause, the semi-lawless nature of its society a natural breeding ground of scum and villainy... Wait! I did it again, didn't I? Screw it. I can get away with that one. The so-called authorities did little to help the situation, preferring to get fat off bribery and corruption, allowing control to be maintained through a delicate balance of alliances and protection rackets. The weak were trodden upon, the strong constantly scrambling for an advantage over their peers, anyone in between just keeping their heads down and their lives moving. Charming place.
Not that it was all bad. Fun and games could be found here aplenty. Pleasure of the flesh, chemical delights, games of chance, all helped to pass the times while those that lived here managed to carve out an existence with determination and fortitude, comfortable in their lot despite slightly erratic nature of their surroundings. Indeed, not far from where this post is based in the Corellian Sector neon lights cast a riotous tableau into the sky, the colourful miasma warring with the dim light reflected from the swollen orb of Nal Hutta hanging lazily above. These lights were cast from the fancy casinos and watering holes like The Meltdown Cafe, a trendy hub of entertainment on the moon. Up there the going could be good, at least until one ran afoul of the myriad crime lords that carved up control of such things. The tumult and hubbub could be heard even as far away as the setting for this work as a steady drone in the background, a slight tremor to the senses of activity occurring.
The "here" this narration keeps referring to is a place known as Level Eighty Eight. Whether it actually IS level eighty eight in relation to the deep chasms that cut through the moon-wide city is anyone's guess and I'll be damned if I'm going to send my character down there to count each one. He'd likely not make it back! I digress... Level Eighty Eight, or rather the row of buildings just above, contained a motley collection of warehouses and workshops abutting the outer edge of the Corellian Sector where it abutted against the Duros Sector. It was a quieter area of the moon where it came to pedestrian traffic. The howl and whine of machinery making it far from quiet with regards to volume.
He watched silently as the fancy ship was maneuvered skillfully into the cavernous bay doors of the workshop known as Gorks Mechanical Emporium, arms folded across his armoured chest. The armour consisted of a battered chestpiece with faded red paint that made it look as if it was smeared with rust. Bare arms revealed a weathered and tanned skin, wrists encased in gauntlets, lean and wiry muscles evident. A baggy pair of overalls, undone to the waist with arms tied to form a belt, covered the lower half of the figure, a serviceable blaster strapped to the right thigh, nasty looking knife on the left. Finally a battered helm covered the head, a rather strange design that hearkened back to the old Mandalorian Empire that existed some three thousand years ago.
Maraak yawned under the helm as he watched Kirith work. It had been more than two years since he had been charged by Sidara to "keep an eye on her", something that he was sure was no longer a necessity. Indeed, he had his own reasons for laying low on The Smugglers Moon. The debacle following the Yavin defeat had left his position back on Concord Dawn rather untenable, a command structure already ill at ease with his meddling and trickery, likely ready to lay whatever blame they could at the spy's feet. Without Corr there to shelter him from their wrath he'd likely end up with a treson charge, or get branded Dar'Manda. So it was he had ingratiated himself into Kirith's life, taking on the role of security guard at Gorks and a couple of the other nearby stores, amusingly known by some as her "pet Mandalorian". He had also become something of a hit with Gork after helping the Herglic clear up some unpleasantness arising over a gambling debt with a local crime baron, a favour that had led to his post here.
He continued to watch absently as Kirith and the huge alien engaged in conversation, giving a slight start as the comlink built into his helmet chimed. Without breaking his eased posture of leaning against the wall across the street he blinked the channel to life with a blink.
Go...
The voice that came over the channel was one he had not heard in a long time, well over a year. The sound brought back a memory from before the Yavin war, the man warning him of the risks he was taking in provoking the madness of Ashrah. He couldn't help a wry smile at the thought of this call being solely for the purpose of gloating, but he knew that was not the kind of man Mereel was.
He listened for about thirty seconds, his outwards appearance giving no indication was in conversations, offering only a slight Mando'a word here and there to the vode on the other end of the channel. Finally he gave a very slight nod and a "vore" before the channel went dead. He paused for a moment as the two mechanics turned there attention to the ships engine before pushing himself off from the wall and moving off down the street.
===============================================================
He returned a couple of hours later just as the day was winding down, striding into the shop and dropping heavily down onto a tool crate. Reaching up with both hands he pulled the helmet off of his head, allowing his dark hair, longer than he had ever worn it before, to spill down over his shoulders. Bland features were revealed, the kind of face that would blend into a crowd, giving meaning to the word nondescript, aside from the eyes that were pale blue and piercing.
Allowing the helm to drop from his hand to thunk to the scorched floor he began to pull the gauntlets off of his hands, setting them down on the crate besides him before running a hand through his hair. His eyes found Gork, a negligent gesture accentuating his words.
"Spoke to Darnel over near Hectors. Klass and his crew are trying to up the racket they've got going over there. He said to expect a dip in business if they manage to strong arm their way to a percentage increase."
He shrugged laconically as if the news was no more important that a weather report, leaning back on the crate so his shoulders rested against the wall behind. Drawing the the dagger from his sheath, illumination panels glinting off the nasty hooked blade, he produced a Hanava fruit and began to cut chunks off, slipping each one into his mouth. His eyes found Kirith as he spoke around a mouthful.
"Had a call from home. Got a job offer..."
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Post by Kirith Aridigo on Oct 15, 2017 16:19:21 GMT -8
The rest of the day seemed to pass along in relative peace after that, as Gork and Kirith worked on the shiny yaht, barely speaking to each other other than to ask for the occasional tool. Kirith for her part, was deep in thought over the conversation with Gork from earlier.
Her boss had a point. It wasn't like Kirith to settle in one place for so long. It wasn't like there weren't job offers. Maraak, in his quiet way, brought up potential opportunities every once in awhile since she finally managed to fx the Cat's Paw after the disaster at Ord Mantell. She always told the Mandalorian he could go if he wanted, but always found an excuse for why it wan't a good time for her. Gork needed help. She was waiting for a part.
Maraak for his part, hadn't complained. Just shrugged his shoulders and continued on as if he hadn't said anything. Every time he asked, she expected to see him vanish, off to seek adventure elsewhere rather than watch a mechanic do the same thing every day. And every time he stuck around, sometimes to the great amusement of Gork.
Oh, she knew why he was there. She and Sid had quite the argument via holonet messages for almost two weeks after the Mandalorian admitted to her friend about sending Maraak after her to "keep an eye on her."
- - -
"I don't need a babysitter!" Kirith had yelled to her friend via a holonet call in the Cat's Paw one evening. She had noticed a Mandalorian had been popping up in the various planets she had visited over the previous few months - showing up a little to often to be a mere coincidence. It had been the armor that had stuck out to her, the battered chest piece smeared with what looked like rust. Curious, she had called to Sid to find out who the Mando was. What she hadn't been expecting, was that Sid had sent him.
"That's debatable," said the Cat's Paw, deciding to join in on the call. "You have the worst habit of getting us shot at."
"That hasn't happened in . . weeks, months even!" argued Kirith, crossing her arms angrily over her chest.
"He's not a babysitter, exactly," said Sid, taking a drag from her cigarette on the other side of the screen. "Think of him as a bodyguard."
"I fail to see the difference," said Kirith. "I've managed to live the past few decades without a bodyguard just fine, thank you very much."
Sid sighed. "Look, it was the best I could do for Maraak. He has no where else to go right now. Not after that debacle on Yavin IV."
Kirith shuddered inwardly, thinking of Yavin IV. What had started out as a girls only beer tour of the galaxy had quickly escalated (through no fault of her own) to all out war between Jedi and Mandalorians, with Sid and Kirith caught in the middle. Kirith considered herself lucky the Jedi hadn't executed her.
"What do you mean?" she asked. "Surely the other Mandalorians . . ."
"...Are looking to try him for treason for what happened on Yavin IV, and I don't want to think about what the Jedi would do if they got him either."
"So?"
"So, I need somewhere for him to lie low."
"And that means having him follow me around everywhere."
Sid shrugged. "It gives him something to do."
Kirith shook her head. "You have some weird ass ideas of what constitute a healthy hobby."
Sid laughed. "Look, just, keep an eye on him, for me, okay Kir?"
Kirith had frowned, suspecting her friend of playing her, but grudgingly agreed and made plans to introduce herself to her shadow next time she saw him.
- - -
The next time she had caught her rusty shadow following behind, she doubled back to sneak up behind him, tapping him on the shoulder.
Maraak to his credit, managed to hide his surprise, although Kirith suspected that the helmet that covered his face helped to hide a lot of things.
"I could hear your stomach rumbling from three blocks away," she grumbled, before shoving a small container holding a freshly baked brownie she had made earlier that day, into his chest until the taller man took the container from her. "Eat it while it's still warm," she added. "It's better that way."
And with that comment she promptly left the Mandalorian standing in the doorway and went back about her business.
- - -
I probably never should have fed him, thought Kirith to herself as she peaked out from underneath the yaht to see Maraak's boots walking across the garage floor. Maraak hadn't stopped following her around, sticking with her far longer than she suspected Sid had meant, much to the amusement of Gork.
"Well, that's inconvenient," said Gork booming voice in a deceptively mild manner, clearly answering something Maraak had said, that she hadn't been able to hear from where she lay under the ship. Curious, she slid out from underneath the yaht, and sat up from her position on the floor. Her clothes had managed to pick up a few more grease stains since Maraak had seen her earlier, and a large smudge had found its way under her right cheek.
Maraak glanced over at her as she emerged, locking eyes with her. "Had a call from home. Got a job offer..."
Kirith froze, looking surprised. She had gotten used to the Mandalorian hanging around. "Oh?" asked Kirith, oddly detached.
Gork shot her a look, and his large foot nudged her slightly, an unspoken message passing between them, reminding her of their earlier conversation.
After a moment, she added, "Do you need a ride? The Cat's Paw has been looking to stretch her legs for awhile. Might be good for her."
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Post by Orar Traat'aliit on Oct 15, 2017 17:14:39 GMT -8
He shrugged at Gork's words, continuing to cut chunks off the fruit in a slow and systematic motion.
He didn't doubt for one second that the news Maraak had brought was no surprise to the big Koodan. In fact, Maraak had been around Gork long enough to suspect that the shrewd business man already had a plan in place for such an eventuality. Hell, he wouldn't be surprised if Gork was responsible for the action of Klass and his band of miscreants, perhaps as a way to drive his competitors into the ground. The Herglic certainly exhibited a ruthless streak at times, though Maraak found it hard to imagine him using such underhanded tactics to get his own way.
His attention turned to Kirith as she spoke, the initial response strangely absent.
Was that dejection? Would she lament him leaving after all this time? Miss him perhaps? He had to work to keep the smile from flickering onto his face at the thought. He had never thought of himself as the lovable type and certainly wasn't house trained enough to mount a convincing argument for someone to want him to stick around. Still, even stray dogs can learn loyalty, he thought wryly.
Finally he allowed the smile to alight his features, a knowing smirk that change his bland features into a mask of expression.
Levering himself forward he flipped the core of his fruit into a box labelled "parts", eliciting a scowl of annoyance from Gork, and took up his gauntlets before standing.
"Oh its not just for me, ad'ika. What would anyone want with me..."
He frowned suddenly, comically, and narrowed his eyes at her.
"That was a rhetorical question."
He held the mock glare for a heartbeat longer before continuing.
"No. Its piloting skills and technical savvy that are the commodities of today."
He said the last in a singsong voice that mirrored one of the commercials that blazed on one of the neon signs a couple of blocks over, arms sweeping wide in a grandiose gesture of extravagance.
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Post by Kirith Aridigo on Oct 15, 2017 17:56:15 GMT -8
"Don't leave that in there, Marrak, that's how we get ants," she snapped, gesturing towards the parts box, glaring at the Mandalorian. "Not to mention it gets everything all sorts of sticky between the juices and your saliva."
She leaned back, resting herself on her arms behind her, so she could continue to look up at Marrak as he stood up, still glaring at him for the discarded fruit. At his comment about anyone possibly wanting him, she rolled her eyes, already prepped a snarky reply when his eyes narrowed at her, insisting that her response was not necessary. Not to be deterred by such minor details as minor details as "rhetorical question" she moved to continue the remark (something that implied he grew on people, like a particular stubborn foot fungus), when his manner changed to that of a game show host as he explained the job offer.
"Who needs the skills?" she asked, eyebrow raised. "I won't just work for anyone."
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Post by Orar Traat'aliit on Oct 15, 2017 18:07:07 GMT -8
He sighed heavily, like a teenager being told off by his mother, and stomped over to retrieve the fruit core from the spare parts box, tucking the gauntlets into the overalls as he moved. He cast around for a moment for somewhere to deposit the debris but saw no likely options. In the end, with a shrug, he turned and launched the core out of the main doors and into the street with a smooth underhand cast.
"I got the call from Mereel. Remember him? He didn't say who the job is for but if Mereel is calling then it can only be from the top..."
He didn't elaborate. He just fixed his eyes on Kirith and stepped forward to hang his arms from a support strut on the fancy yacht they had been working on.
Mereel was one of Corr's men, leader of the special forces squad Orar Traat'aliit. He was sure Kirith knew him as last he had heard Mereel and the others of his squad had been working directly for Sidara following Corr's vacation with the Jedi after Yavin IV. He wasn't sure in what capacity Mereel now operated but he had little doubt that the man still worked closely with the Vhetts.
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Post by Kirith Aridigo on Oct 15, 2017 19:22:57 GMT -8
"Mereel, huh?" said Kirith, pursing her lips, looking thoughtful. "Never met him myself, but I have heard of him."
From the top could only mean Sid. Although why the woman didn't just call her up on the holonet herself didn't make any sense to Kirith. It had never stopped the woman before. Kirith wondered what could have happened to prompt an intermediary for a job.
"Are you planning on tagging along? Or have you finally decided to lay down roots on this armpit of a moon?" She eyed Grok. "No offense meant, boss."
"None taken." he said. "You've never had any taste anyway."
Kirith responded by sticking her tongue out at the herglic with mock annoyance.
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Post by Orar Traat'aliit on Oct 16, 2017 8:01:04 GMT -8
He smiled slightly, the amusement in the expression lighting up his eyes once again.
"Of course. Cat would miss me if I didn't come. You'd be stuck with a cranky ship."
His gaze turned to Grok, sharing a slight nod with the smooth-skinned biped.
The unspoken respect between them needed nothing more. Nor did the obvious request that he look after her. The word request was probably insufficient. More like he threatened to tear Maraak in half if anything happened to Kirith. Yes, that was easily passed along in a look if you were a eight hundred pound behemoth like Gork.
"If you need someone to take my place young Tarin would be suitable..."
Tarin was a mercenary that had found himself without a crew following a job gone sour over in the Tapani Sector. He was fit and able, and Maraak had sounded him out for a few jobs over the last couple of weeks. The man was also connected with one Marv Valus, a money lender and all round Nar Shaddaa gangster, that Maraak had also managed to acquaint. He knew the guy from several years ago when he and Corr had come to odds over a job. That the guy had come out on the losing end back then didn't seem to have impacted on the mans ambitions. That alone had earned him a grudging admiration from the former Concordian spy.
"Everything is paid up for this month anyway, only Jek's bill is still outstanding for the swoop last weekend..."
IT wasn't like him to fret or worry but he'd come to like old Gork and his establishment. When Maraak took on a role he put all his efforts into it, taking said role seriously to the point of it becoming an obsession. It was that dogged determination that had brought him to work for Cassus and then Corr in the first place, nearly a decade ago now.
He swung himself forward slightly, letting go of the strut and moving forward a few paces to stand next to the Herglic mechanic, casting around for where he had dropped his helmet.
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Post by Kirith Aridigo on Oct 16, 2017 10:40:33 GMT -8
"She isn't thaaaat cranky," said Kirith defensively. "She just is very opinionated, and likes things a certain way."
Gork nodded from the unspoken agreement between the two males. Gork had known Kirith for close to two decades at this point, taking her in when she was only a little street rat scraping by to eat, drawn to his shop by a fascination for all things mechanical. She was a hard worker, and a good friend, and he would be sad to see her go again, but was glad to know that someone other than her temperamental ship would be looking out for her. Especially since Kirith's mouth had a habit of getting her into trouble.
"I'll reach out to Tarin," said Gork. "Maybe a good job for him would be to check in on Jek and the status of his bill." The herglic gave Maraak a big toothy grin that was only a little bit ruthless.
As Gork answered Maraak, Kirith took the opportunity to stand up and stretched, her joints popping as she worked out the kinks that had made their way into her body after an hour of lying on her back under an engine. Noticing Maraak glancing around for what she assumed was his helmet (seriously, for such an important piece of equipment as she was led to believe, the man managed to leave it in the weirdest places), she grabbed the helmet from where it had rolled between some equipment after he had unceremoniously dumped it on the floor.
Handing the helmet back to Maraak, she asked, "So where are we heading? And by when? I have some supplies I needed to grab for the Cat's Paw and the cocoa powder supplies in the galley are running low."
"And by low, do you mean that you have only liter left?" asked Gork, guffawing. "However will you make enough brownies to feed that army you don't have?"
Kirith glared at her boss. "It helps to be well prepared," she said primly, sticking her nose up in the air.
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