The Shepherd
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Post by The Shepherd on Jan 9, 2016 20:31:40 GMT -8
The training grounds were empty by the time Rutil had made his way there, which suited him just fine. The Zabrak wasn't in any mood to be spoken to, commanded to do something, or deal with curious upstarts or would-be-Sith. He had no patience to plan for the next strike against the forces of darkness. He didn't even care to catch up with his former pupil. From his perspective, everything was going right to hell, and he was the only one seeing it.
The old man never thought he would see the Shan boy again. Their parting, while not hostile, hadn't been on the friendliest of terms, which was par for the course with the broken-horned Zabrak. And now here he was, once again in a Jedi stronghold, every bit as dark as he was when Rutil had last met him, and had taken on the task of attempting to rehabilitate him. Rutil didn't know exactly what the boy had done this time. He didn't know why he was now on Felucia. But he did know that Vidalu Na'an had brought him in - forcibly, at that - and that she had mentioned a trial. The Jedi Master had been around long enough to know there were only so many possibilities that could have prompted such circumstances to arise. And when he gave it a bit more thought, his old student could be found in the heating flames of his ire as well; bringing him in for trial would prove to be fruitless at best. After all, it had been Shan that was the most recent attempt at bringing a darksider to the light, and he had apparently done something heinous enough for his friend to bring him in to be judged for it.
Judge, of course, being something of a misnomer. The bile in Rutil's stomach rose to his throat as he pulled off his cloak and tossed it into a nearby corner. The Jedi Order wouldn't judge the Shan boy. The Council would find some excuse, they'd take his word that he'd changed, and he would pretend to try and redeem himself (if he wasn't pardoned outright) before reneging on the terms of his release and resuming his worship of evil once more. To make things even worse, the dark presence he had sensed on Kashyyyk was now on Felucia as well, and he was under less guard than the Sith Lord on his way to the brig. Had it not been for the circumstances surrounding them Rutil would have made a move on the boy back in the forest, and now here he was, claiming he wanted to renew himself and the masters would happily grant it to him, the innocent blood on his hands be damned. They were Sith. They were the enemy. But they would get a free pass. Rutil himself? The Zabrak knew - deep down, somehow, he knew - that there would be an inquiry into his actions, likely spearheaded by that Saurian who'd had it out for him ever since they met. All because the broken-horned Master had decided to get off of his ass and act rather than sit back and let the galaxy continue its decay.
The more Rutil thought about the state of affairs, the more frustrated he grew, and the more that new sensation he discovered on Naboo began to take hold. Such thoughts were what drove him to this place; meditation had never come easy to the gargoyle, and he had only ever found peace when he was moving. And move he would.
A loud snap-hiss echoed in the empty training hall. Rutil's own lightsaber, however, remained on his hip.
Lashing out straight at first, the purple blade of the Shan boy's lightwhip fell to the ground, crackling against the floor as it did so. Lazily, Rutil swept it left and right, keeping it off the floor and the walls, not wanting to damage anything unwittingly. The whip's blade sizzled through the air, hissing and cracking as it passed in a discordant contrast to the strong, steady hum of Rutil's lightsaber. After a few more passes, Rutil let the whip fall to the ground, where it once again resumed burning into the floor. It was a weakness he had found; the same properties that allowed the blade to be fluid greatly damaged its ability to cut through things in a resting state. Had he placed his own weapon tip down and pushed, Rutil would have eventually buried the blue blade. But the whip was different. While it was definitely leaving a mark where it made contact, it was going to take considerably more strength to do any damage to anything. Unless...
Rutil's focus shot across the hall like a laser, and two training remotes - inert as they were, having not been activated - floated towards him. They stopped a few meters away from the Jedi, hovering perfectly still in the air. With a gentle motion, a purple arc swung vertically through the air and the whip embedded itself into the first training remote. A flicker in his mind ripped the probe from Shan's weapon, letting it fall to the ground in a mostly intact heap. A similar swing with his own weapon would have easily halved the thing.
The Jedi yanked the whip back. As the tip of the amethyst blade soared behind him, the Force screamed for Rutil to step to the right. He moved quickly, his jade eyes darting to the spot where he had been just a moment ago, where a spark of purple lightning left a nasty scorch mark and was followed by an almost deafening, electronic crack.
There was a pause. There was a realization. A moment later, there was a grim smile.
The Zabrak began to swipe the whip across the air once more, his eyes focused purely on the deactivated training remote as he built up speed and power in the fluid weapon. He had known that he would need a different approach to using a lightwhip. But he hadn't expected to understand its use so quickly. And he hadn't expected to enjoy it so thoroughly. In contrast to the immediate force granted by a lightsaber, a lightwhip would require a bit more thought, a bit more knowledge, and a bit more patience. It would require the user to go around an obstacle rather than through. It would require a good understand of where the blade was, what its arc would be, and where it's trajectory would place it a split second later. But with time and practice - both of which Rutil resolved he would get - the results were spectacular, and unlike anything the Jedi had seen before.
With a jolt backward and a flick of his wrist, the purple blade shot forward, the tip of it letting out another loud crack as the training remote in the air was obliterated, and the shrapnel sent flying across the sparring floor.
Satisfied, Rutil switched off the weapon, the purple light slithering back into the hilt. He wasn't going to be an instant expert with the weapon. But the Sith would never see it coming. And for that advantage, the gargoyle of a Jedi was prepared to train with it until he was every bit as familiar with it as he was with the durasteel companion of decades still resting unused on his belt. Reaching out with the Force, his cloak raced through the air and up his arm, the energy of its flight wrapping it around Rutil's body as he left the training hall.
His annoyance had been quelled for the time being.
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Tom Klanzo
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Post by Tom Klanzo on Jan 18, 2016 23:29:56 GMT -8
*The training area, once again. Tom had actually returned here after he'd left Raine, putting himself through a series of disciplines to keep his own skills in check. It seemed the familiar area would become even more familiar than before, especially with Raine's eagerness to learn the ways of Jedi self-defense. Which, as he would assure her, went far beyond just the use of a lightsaber, but physical skills were still incredibly important, especially against a matched foe.
Returning to the battle area, Tom instead did not retrieve the same learning tools as the day before, but instead stopped in the center of the room, hands folded behind his back.* "Obviously you have some skill in self-defense. Before I teach you new skills, I'd like to know what it is you already know." *Turning back toward her, he asked,* "So how do you fight? How do you move? Are you quick, outmaneuvering your foes? Are you patient, waiting for the right moment to strike? Or do you resort to force as much as you can?"
*While the last option seemed less strategic in contrast to the other two, Tom made it clear in his tone and expression that he felt none of these styles were inherently superior to the other. All had their place, and all beings had their method of fighting. Whichever Raine chose, whichever she was used to, Tom would work with her based on that ability and find the best style that would suit her.*
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Post by Vidalu Na'an on Jan 19, 2016 17:59:00 GMT -8
The smallest of the private training rooms had always been Vidalu Na'an's favorite. It was quiet, sparsely equipped, and far enough down the hall that few Jedi ever used it when better rooms were available. It was a good place to be alone; when she had been recovering there after her surgery, she'd often steal away there when alone was what she wanted. To re-acquaint herself with the joy and power of moving limbs, to re-introduce herself to the feel of Force in her lungs, or just to throw herself recklessly at dummy after dummy until her muscles were screaming louder than her thoughts.
It was this place she'd gone to, when she lived here, and this was where she all but fled when she left the cells.
The door slid shut behind Na'an with a near-silent click, enveloping her in the warm white space. In the emptiness, she could hear her breathing--hard, too fast and deep for the amount of effort it had taken to get here. She could hear her heart--fast and angry, too large for her chest. Her blood felt thick with obscenities, with all the things she'd been prepared to throw back in a furious Caoimhin's face. With every word she'd been holding back for the last three days.
But really, all those words had boiled down to something very small.
"Liar." The word set Na'an to pacing across the room, er hands wandered, across her face, tangling up in her scalp, as if in their frustration they were searching for something on Na'an to throttle. More words followed the first, boiling out of her like steam. "All this time, after everything...and you...and her, and...you were supposed to...I'm so stupid--"
She slammed her fist into a dummy with a scream. The force of the blow sent the mock creature flying, its head falling off as it smashed into the far wall and fell into a broken pile. She screamed again at the shattered thing, one short helpless roar of frustration, and then fell to silent trembling.
It was pointless, it really was. There was nothing to be done with all this energy--no time for a proper Connection. Na'an fought to slow her breathing, to force it under control to a point where she could go about the rest of her business. The Masters still needed a report on what had happened on Nar Shaddaa--Adelle was still expecting her in the Medical Center--and Leigh needed her to--
As if on cue, she heard a tinny beep in her left ear. Na'an cocked her head towards her ear and almost immediately she could hear Leigh, warm and businesslike and close. Na'an, our contractors have arrived for details on their cargo. Where are you?
There was no more time. Na'an sucked in a deep breath, opening her left eye to respond more clearly. "I'm...I'm in Training room six," she said, and her voice was calm again. "Had to take a detour. Meet me here?"
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Raine Bralor
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Post by Raine Bralor on Jan 19, 2016 20:37:20 GMT -8
*The training area, once again. Tom had actually returned here after he'd left Raine, putting himself through a series of disciplines to keep his own skills in check. It seemed the familiar area would become even more familiar than before, especially with Raine's eagerness to learn the ways of Jedi self-defense. Which, as he would assure her, went far beyond just the use of a lightsaber, but physical skills were still incredibly important, especially against a matched foe.
Returning to the battle area, Tom instead did not retrieve the same learning tools as the day before, but instead stopped in the center of the room, hands folded behind his back.* "Obviously you have some skill in self-defense. Before I teach you new skills, I'd like to know what it is you already know." *Turning back toward her, he asked,* "So how do you fight? How do you move? Are you quick, outmaneuvering your foes? Are you patient, waiting for the right moment to strike? Or do you resort to force as much as you can?" *While the last option seemed less strategic in contrast to the other two, Tom made it clear in his tone and expression that he felt none of these styles were inherently superior to the other. All had their place, and all beings had their method of fighting. Whichever Raine chose, whichever she was used to, Tom would work with her based on that ability and find the best style that would suit her.* |
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Tom Klanzo
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Post by Tom Klanzo on Jan 20, 2016 20:08:20 GMT -8
*So her preferred method of defense was speed and maneuverability, but also outwitting her opponents. Tom put a hand to his mouth, stroking his mustache, already letting his mind wander with what proper method of combat would best suit her once she more properly understood the art of the lightsaber. All the same, if she preferred mobility, perhaps she could do with an obstacle course lesson later...
Shrugging, he decided he would see how she handled two weapons at once, if she could adapt to them or if she needed more time. Tom liked to dive straight in and see just how well his pupils could handle themselves before deciding on the proper course of training, so he went to the same cabinet as yesterday to retrieve two training shotos.* "Catch," *he said, just as he had yesterday, as he tossed both of them to her before retrieving the training remote and activated its standby mode, allowing it to hover in midair.
Smiling at her, he explained,* "You said you can use two blades at the same time. I want to see if that holds true for the Jedi's weapon. Do you think you're able to handle it?"
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Karana Malora
The Unfair Advantage
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Post by Karana Malora on Jan 20, 2016 20:44:57 GMT -8
The smallest of the private training rooms had always been Vidalu Na'an's favorite. It was quiet, sparsely equipped, and far enough down the hall that few Jedi ever used it when better rooms were available. It was a good place to be alone; when she had been recovering there after her surgery, she'd often steal away there when alone was what she wanted. To re-acquaint herself with the joy and power of moving limbs, to re-introduce herself to the feel of Force in her lungs, or just to throw herself recklessly at dummy after dummy until her muscles were screaming louder than her thoughts. It was this place she'd gone to, when she lived here, and this was where she all but fled when she left the cells. The door slid shut behind Na'an with a near-silent click, enveloping her in the warm white space. In the emptiness, she could hear her breathing--hard, too fast and deep for the amount of effort it had taken to get here. She could hear her heart--fast and angry, too large for her chest. Her blood felt thick with obscenities, with all the things she'd been prepared to throw back in a furious Caoimhin's face. With every word she'd been holding back for the last three days. But really, all those words had boiled down to something very small. "Liar." The word set Na'an to pacing across the room, er hands wandered, across her face, tangling up in her scalp, as if in their frustration they were searching for something on Na'an to throttle. More words followed the first, boiling out of her like steam. "All this time, after everything...and you...and her, and...you were supposed to...I'm so stupid--"She slammed her fist into a dummy with a scream. The force of the blow sent the mock creature flying, its head falling off as it smashed into the far wall and fell into a broken pile. She screamed again at the shattered thing, one short helpless roar of frustration, and then fell to silent trembling. It was pointless, it really was. There was nothing to be done with all this energy--no time for a proper Connection. Na'an fought to slow her breathing, to force it under control to a point where she could go about the rest of her business. The Masters still needed a report on what had happened on Nar Shaddaa--Adelle was still expecting her in the Medical Center--and Leigh needed her to-- As if on cue, she heard a tinny beep in her left ear. Na'an cocked her head towards her ear and almost immediately she could hear Leigh, warm and businesslike and close. Na'an, our contractors have arrived for details on their cargo. Where are you?There was no more time. Na'an sucked in a deep breath, opening her left eye to respond more clearly. "I'm...I'm in Training room six," she said, and her voice was calm again. "Had to take a detour. Meet me here?"
The door to Training Room Six slid open, and after being led by an unnervingly silent robot with a 'pretty' face and an arm cannon on a seven minute parade through a base full of Jedi, Malora was prepared for anything. Business meeting in a sparring room? Why not! Heck of a lot better than her usual dealings, which typically took place in dark alleys or crowded bars or black market dens. At least she didn't have to worry about anyone here stabbing her in the back when she was signing a contract. Jedi didn't do shit like that…right? She hadn't heard the comm conversation between Cannon Girl and their employer, but she was imagining some kind of colossal battle-scarred Force-wizard hero with like four lightsabers and that stern, humorless expression many Jedi seemed to wear. Yes, prepared for anything. What met her vision was definitely not what she'd expected. The woman was small, but her height had zero effect on her presence in the blank room. Mal could feel it from the door. Dark brown cargo pants and a fitted, sleeveless, high-necked shirt covered a lean, athletic frame, and her shoulder-length hair had been raked back into a thick ponytail. A few wisps floated around her face, brushing broad shoulders. The hilt at her belt confirmed the Force user status. But it was her face that told Mal the most. The scarring where her left eye should have been, the cool, striking grey of her good one, the firm set of her jaw, the infinite invisible scars the woman carried in her expression. They were very hard to see, unless you'd been through the ringer yourself. This woman? She'd lived. Hard. The robot shifted, and Malora entered fully, scanning the room quickly. The woman's scarred eye had reminded her of Fel, and she couldn't afford not to be focused right now, so she met her good eye in a firm gaze and gave the Force user a nod in greeting, adding a little half-smile. She'd have stuck out a hand for a shake, but had learned long ago that in her line of business, touching hands with strangers was generally not welcomed. "Your..friend here said you'd wanna chat directly. Name's Malora. Guy behind me is Connors. Don't wanna take up much of your time, so whatever details you've got on the job, we're listenin'."
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Post by Vidalu Na'an on Jan 21, 2016 17:27:22 GMT -8
Na'an had managed to cool down considerably before Leigh found her with their contractors. She'd been halfway through reassembling the dummy she'd broken when they arrived, the door making an airy sound as it opened. She turned to address the smugglers, her back straightening and her jaw settling in a hard line. The old dogs running the backwoods shipping lanes often deferred to Leigh due to her size, only addressing Na'an if she forced them to or they saw the eye. Briefly her hand crept up to it, stopping only when they registered that she'd never put the patch back on. Well, that would get this old dog's attention--
...or not.
There were two of them; a man and a woman, as Leigh had marked, but the man was standing in the back. Instead, the pair was led by the tall, dark-haired woman dressed very much like herself. She looked uncomfortable, wary in the strange space, and it told in the brief staccato of her boots against the floor, in the tenseness in her thin shoulders. Not that discomfort looked bad on her; she had the long proportions and oddly delicate frame that recalled the dancer's house on Nal Hutta. It made every movement seem practiced--and with a smuggler, perhaps it was. The discomfort translated well to her face too, again perhaps with practice. A nervous mouth made for a very pretty pout, and dodgy eyes in that shade of blue could easily translate into bedroom eyes with eyelashes like hers.
Not that Na'an would know.
"...Malora, huh?" She took the hand, squeezing it briefly; even the feel of it was a little odd. Rather than some smooth, feminine thing, 'Malora's' fingers were calloused and rough, with a greasy texture and an unevenness in her thumb and forefinger that suggested bad breaks long since healed. When their grip passed, Na'an brushed her fingers against the bottom of her shirt absently, wiping off a residue that wasn't really there.
"You know, it's been a long time since I've met a lady who took better care of her face than her hands," she said, shooting a sideways glance at Leigh. "Especially in your line of work."
Leigh sighed, and rolled her eyes.
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Wade
The Unfair Advantage
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Post by Wade on Jan 21, 2016 17:46:10 GMT -8
Wade quirked an eyebrow at the tone of the woman's opening statement. Ordinarily, such a statement would have been entirely innocuous and not worth a second thought, but tied together with her tone and the second message they'd gotten in orbit from her robot companion...
"What's up with that?"
He stepped forward until he was even with Malora and facing the stocky woman. He didn't miss the agitation and subtle tension in her stance either, but opted to ignore it in favor of not getting involved in poodoo that was none of his business.
"First your robot friend makes a point of emphasizing we're late, then the first thing out of your mouth is a casual insult. Did something go wrong that we don't know about, or are you just really bad at business?"
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Post by Vidalu Na'an on Jan 21, 2016 18:16:03 GMT -8
"Probably. I'm not a businessman."
Na'an cocked her head at the burly gentleman, quirking her mouth with a darkly amused look. "So, which one of you is the one in charge here? I thought the lady was the captain."
Leigh shook her head, making an exasperated sound. "You know that this is entirely unnecessary. I checked their record twice over--"
"I know that." The young woman's eye focused on the droid without other movement, her amusement fading somewhat. "But I'm the one that checks them, and until I'm as sure as you are I'm not sending them. She'd kill us if we sent back someone who couldn't--" and at that the bright grey eye swung back again, pinning 'Malora' and 'Connors' in place-- "play nice.
So, big guy. You know how to play nice?"
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Wade
The Unfair Advantage
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Post by Wade on Jan 21, 2016 18:33:41 GMT -8
That was... strange. Normally when someone was trying to not-so-subtly converse with a compatriot about potential dangers, those dangers would be directed at their potential new contractor, not at the contracting party. Or such had been the case in Grimo's dealings, at least. Vague threats were bandied about in attempts to motivate the aforementioned contractors, but not once had he heard the contracting party reference a threat to themselves. Then it got even stranger with the realization that the actual concern was over whether or not they could avoid conflict, not whether they could actually complete the job. Wade's mind had naturally assumed the conversation was heading in the "sent someone who couldn't handle themselves in a fight" direction, courtesy of most of his memories being of a gladiatorial arena, but apparently it was exactly the opposite.
Well then, fair enough.
"Probably not, but I only kill people when they deserve it, or if it's a fair fight, or when I'm getting paid... mostly only when when I'm getting paid. So if that's not what you're paying for, the gloves stay on."
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Karana Malora
The Unfair Advantage
I don't believe in a no-win scenario.
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Post by Karana Malora on Jan 23, 2016 16:27:52 GMT -8
"Woooow! Okay, uh…" Malora shifted ever so slightly between the Force-wielder and Wade, eyebrows raised, and nodded. She waved a hand around, gesturing to all accompanied, but mostly to Wade and the woman. "This is fun; any other day, I'm all for trading jabs, but let's get back on track here," she snarked, words a bit more prickly than she'd intended, but the peculiarly abrasive manner of the woman and Wade's responses had the conversation steering in a direction Malora had no desire to go on her first 'solo' job. So, she grabbed the wheel and adopted a no-nonsense tone she hadn't used in a very long time.
"You want reassurance." Malora could read between the lines here. She fixed the stand-offish female with a sharp gaze. "I get it. You need this job to go smoothly, we don't look like much, and this galaxy is full of people who do not 'play nice'. I could throw assuring words at you until I'm blue in the face, run down the list of credentials and our accomplishments, tell you that when I make a contract, I follow through no matter what, but something tells me you DO, in fact, trust Cannon Girl's thoroughly researched assessment of us, and you're just testing us right now. You aren't worried about our qualifications as a crew, you're worried about us as people, and you wanted to look us in the eyes and see what we are for yourself."
Mal stepped half an inch closer. Not in a threatening way, more in a 'hear I am, assess me,' way, but of course, people will take things how they will. "You wanna look? Go ahead. Reassure yourself. Because I'm ready to move forward when you are."
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Post by Vidalu Na'an on Jan 23, 2016 17:17:12 GMT -8
Na'an didn't back down right away. Her eye not leaving Malora's, she stepped forward once, noting the minute wavering in the tall smuggler's open posture. Sharp look met sharp look, a series of minute, indefinable measurements crossing both ways. In the brief quiet, Leigh calculated the probability that this was about to break out in a fight rather than a contract...
And then Na'an backed off.
"Not bad, Captain," she said, grinning broadly, and immediately Leigh's calculations were discarded. Whatever Na'an could feel in this 'Malora' must have passed muster--her partner did not smile at strangers carelessly. "It's been few years since I've known a smuggler I liked," she continued, "but you and me, we'll do fine."
There was a soft mat in the middle of the floor; Na'an went to it and sat suddenly in a graceless fwump. She patted the space beside her, indicating for the smugglers to join in. "Sorry about the intimidation game," she said brightly, a complete change in tone from only moments before. "This job involves sending you to our home, you see, and I'd rather not be responsible for another raid, especially with the farm in as such dire straits as it is--"
Leigh simulated a cough. "I am sure she does not require justification, Na'an, or our backstory. In fact, I believe she said she did not want to take up too much of our time?"
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Karana Malora
The Unfair Advantage
I don't believe in a no-win scenario.
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Post by Karana Malora on Jan 23, 2016 21:09:05 GMT -8
"Eh." Mal shrugged as she settled cross-legged next to the Jedi on the mat. "Anyone'll tell you I'm no social butterfly, but if it helps with the job, I'll listen." This was shaping up to be all kinds of interesting. The smuggler watched the woman with curiosity; she'd never met a Force user with her kind of…personality, and that was a compliment. So many of the Jedi she'd interacted with were rigid cookie-cutter copies of a lofty idea, friendly but distant, all flashy heroics and two-cent catch phrases. To her, at least concerning those she'd met, they'd never seemed quite 'human', like a massive part of who they were as individuals was missing.
This one, though? This peculiar woman and her giant robot friend? She had some grit. Brains, too. Mal watched the smile turn her mouth, flicker in her tone. She was pretty when she smiled.
"Farm, home, dire straits." Malora nodded attentively. "There was a raid?"
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Post by Vidalu Na'an on Jan 23, 2016 21:28:44 GMT -8
"Mhmmm. Few months back." Na'an stretched her arms over her head, arcing her back slightly. "Local bandits. We managed to save the crops, but they got to the boss's fuel cache. Harvest's in a few weeks, but without starship fuel it can't get offworld to the farm's clients."
Leigh leaned against a nearby wall, her visual array focused on the comlink in her arm. Now that negotiations were in full swing, there was no need to keep her eye on the two women on the mat. "Na'an and I were sent on a salvage mission to purchase more from a supplier on Corellia. A fairly routine procedure--confirm salvage licenses, gather loose scrap from abandoned starships, then sell for a profit that can then be used to buy the fuel. Fortunately, we managed to sell the scrap before encountering several...diversions."
At the mention of diversions, both woman and droid seemed to darken momentarily. Then Na'an shook her head slightly, returning to the topic.
"It's not important what those were, don't worry about that. Long story short, though, those diversions led us here instead of going to Corellia, and resulted in a few, um, legal matters that mean we can't leave yet. But our employer's waiting for that fuel and it can't wait, which is where you come in."
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Raine Bralor
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Post by Raine Bralor on Jan 24, 2016 17:06:43 GMT -8
*So her preferred method of defense was speed and maneuverability, but also outwitting her opponents. Tom put a hand to his mouth, stroking his mustache, already letting his mind wander with what proper method of combat would best suit her once she more properly understood the art of the lightsaber. All the same, if she preferred mobility, perhaps she could do with an obstacle course lesson later...
Shrugging, he decided he would see how she handled two weapons at once, if she could adapt to them or if she needed more time. Tom liked to dive straight in and see just how well his pupils could handle themselves before deciding on the proper course of training, so he went to the same cabinet as yesterday to retrieve two training shotos.* "Catch," *he said, just as he had yesterday, as he tossed both of them to her before retrieving the training remote and activated its standby mode, allowing it to hover in midair.
Smiling at her, he explained,* "You said you can use two blades at the same time. I want to see if that holds true for the Jedi's weapon. Do you think you're able to handle it?" |
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Karana Malora
The Unfair Advantage
I don't believe in a no-win scenario.
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Post by Karana Malora on Jan 24, 2016 17:28:26 GMT -8
"Mhmmm. Few months back." Na'an stretched her arms over her head, arcing her back slightly. "Local bandits. We managed to save the crops, but they got to the boss's fuel cache. Harvest's in a few weeks, but without starship fuel it can't get offworld to the farm's clients."Leigh leaned against a nearby wall, her visual array focused on the comlink in her arm. Now that negotiations were in full swing, there was no need to keep her eye on the two women on the mat. "Na'an and I were sent on a salvage mission to purchase more from a supplier on Corellia. A fairly routine procedure--confirm salvage licenses, gather loose scrap from abandoned starships, then sell for a profit that can then be used to buy the fuel. Fortunately, we managed to sell the scrap before encountering several...diversions."At the mention of diversions, both woman and droid seemed to darken momentarily. Then Na'an shook her head slightly, returning to the topic.
"It's not important what those were, don't worry about that. Long story short, though, those diversions led us here instead of going to Corellia, and resulted in a few, um, legal matters that mean we can't leave yet. But our employer's waiting for that fuel and it can't wait, which is where you come in." Malora cracked her knuckles, gaze following Wade as he came to sit across from the two. Even after everything he'd gone through, the man still moved with the same warrior's finesse in everything he did. She nodded slowly. "That we can do. We've fought worse than local raiders – and won. Shouldn't be much of an issue if they come callin' again. Tell me about your boss." Malora watched the robot leaning against the wall, turning back to the Jedi next to her on the mat with slightly raised eyebrows. "Anything in particular I should know? Are we delivering directly to them, or…?" |
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Post by Vidalu Na'an on Jan 24, 2016 17:59:18 GMT -8
At the question, Na'an hesitated, coloring slightly. "It's a little more involved than just delivering it, actually," she said, a note of embarrassment in her voice. "For one, you'll have to pick it up too. Leigh?"
"Yes." Leigh turned her cannon with a brisk movement; rather than pointing it at anyone, though, it was just to display the figures now running across the comlink's screen. "Once you leave with our ship I will be notifying our normal supplier, a man named Barrish, of your pickup, and forwarding his payment. Give him our names and the shop will stock the fuel with our order and provide you with a copy of the manifest to give to our employer."
"She goes by the name of Karre Noba," Na'an followed, picking up where the droid left off. "Runs the biggest tritacale plantation in the northwestern sector. She's one hell of a taskmaster, but arrive with her ship intact and the fuel in tow and she'll sign off on the manifest, no problem."
There was an awkward pause, neither of them quite looking easy with whatever had been left unsaid; Na'an was even fidgeting slightly with a strand of her hair. It was her that finally said it, though, the words coming out fast despite her easygoing tone.
"It's pretty easy work, and Barrish is on the up and up, but all the same we'd prefer you didn't spread our names around any farther than that, especially among strangers. We've got reason to believe someone's, uh, tracking our movements that we really don't want finding his way to Dantooine. It's...ah...hmmm."
She fell silent, swallowing uncomfortably. Leigh finished, this time picking up where the human left off.
"It is difficult to explain. Needless to say, raiders are not our primary concern."
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Karana Malora
The Unfair Advantage
I don't believe in a no-win scenario.
Posts: 246
Affiliation: The Fel Crew (Unfair Advantage)
Traffic Light: Orange
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Post by Karana Malora on Jan 25, 2016 20:24:30 GMT -8
"Uh huh…" Malora surveyed the two with no evidence of the tiny knot of anxiety growing in her stomach. If a badass robot and a tough Force user were nervous about this tracker threat, it made her nervous. But she kept it under wraps. Not that showing a little concern in the face of danger was a bad thing, but it didn't do good things to your reputation in her world.
"Well!" Malora slapped her palms on her knees, rubbing absentmindedly at the cloth of her pants, and gave the two a small smile. "Won't have to worry about us passing your names around because we don't know them. No need to share, if you think that makes it easier." The smuggler mulled the information over in her mind. "Dantooine, huh? Haven't been there in a very long time… But it all sounds kosher, for the most part. I'd ask for details on this tracker you're worried about, but it sounds like a long story and time's a'tickin'. Besides…" She threw Wade a smirk, nodding at him. "…I've got backup, and if it's one thing I'm good at, it's talking my way out of shit."
She stood, stretching. "One last thing, though. As far as payment goes…" Malora angled her gaze a little, blue eyes probing. "…half now, half after? Or you got other ideas?"
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Post by Vidalu Na'an on Jan 25, 2016 20:53:41 GMT -8
"I believe half now was our agreement." Leigh proffered her cannon to Malora as she stood, glancing only briefly at Na'an. "You can input your deposit location here. When you get to Corellia, you should see the first half already transferred to your account. The names on the account at the shop are Vidalu Na'an," she said, indicating Na'an with her free hand, "And Leigh. The second half of payment will be given upon Noba's receipt of the manifest. "
Na'an watched the Malora's back with her arms crossed, chewing on the inside of her cheek as she watched the black-haired woman fiddle with the buttons on her partner's arm. Malora's hulking buddy--Connors, was it?--was hovering nearby, shooting her a halfway suspicious look that said he didn't believe that either of them had told his Captain everything.
And to be fair, they hadn't. Na'an bit the inside of her cheek harder, mulling the last couple of minutes over. It wasn't the first time she'd seen that look on a smuggler's face.
In a matter of minutes the details were done. Leigh smiled warmly, gesturing towards the door to escort them to the Hawk. As they made for the exit, however, Na'an lurched to her feet, as if making a sudden decision. She grabbed at the woman's shoulder, turning her halfway back to look her in the eye one more time.
"I mean it, Malora, " she said urgently, "Be careful about using our names with anyone but Barrish. And..." she took a deep breath, steeling herself before continuing. "And if anyone--I don't care who it is--if anyone mentions the name Aherk Formidonis, you're free to go. You take whatever you've got at the time and you bail."
Her grip tightened almost painfully on Malora's shoulder, the skin going briefly white on the knuckles. "You can keep the fuel and the money, but I don't want Noba involved with that guy."
She heard Leigh make a small abrupt sound--the sound of her audio circuits snapping off in surprise.
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Tom Klanzo
Member
Posts: 106
Affiliation: The Living Force
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Post by Tom Klanzo on Jan 25, 2016 22:11:26 GMT -8
*Raine caught the sabers and held them in a reverse grip. She slid her right foot back into the same fighting position she used the day before. Raising the blades in front of her in a defensive position, she activated the blades.* "The best I can do is try." "I'm sure you'll do the best you can given the circumstances," *Tom replied with a smile, raising his palm beside the remote and gently pushing it with the Force towards its target.* "I won't raise the levels as high as I did yesterday, so do not worry. Still, remember to center yourself, feel, don't think." *As he triggered the remote to a medium-low setting, he took a step back and said,* "Let us begin." |
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