Awoken, that Old World

[guest.224]

Sith, Jedi, Imperial, Rebellion - neutral. It never really mattered here. Vahliath knew it was his best chance; the Corellian Trade Spine welcomed and embraced those from all backgrounds - from one end of the galaxy to the other. And that was what Vahliath needed: someone who was used to travelling. Someone who could handle themselves, no matter their background, faction or ideologies. While he knew how to handle himself, he also knew the costs and dangers of returning to the old world. He'd already been, and in going, he found something extraordinary. Considered riches to some - scrap to others. Those who could appreciate the old world would know of the values that lied in the waiting. The only problem, however, was that it wasn't simply "laying" anymore.

Something awoke within that old world. Life breathed into old world relics that should have been silenced forever. Down within the depths of Utapau's cavern systems, remnants of the old world hummed to life. Vahliath was lucky to lay his eyes upon them, just as lucky as he was to escape with his life. There were many; things of old, things of secret - things that should have been lost to the ages. In their ancient forms, they walked the beneath the surface of Utapau, searching for a way out. They found one, the same way Vahliath found them. Priceless and once considered extinct, he obliterated the entrance, trapping the old world machines behind a wall of rock and rubble. But they were still there. Still waiting. Patience was endless to those who bore no sentience. Consideration was void in the machines of war, valuing nothing that exceeded their primary function: to kill.

"Uncomfortable with people looking at you?" Vahliath asked. As expected, there was no reply. Why would it? It wasn't designed to speak. A Magnaguard pulled from the old world and reprogrammed to serve an organic master? The comprehension it must has struggled to achieve was expected. Nonetheless, Vahliath took its silence as confirmation. As he sat up at the bar of a watering hole within the Corellian Trade Spine, the Magnaguard stood beside him, poorly illuminated crimson gems staring down at the surface where Vahliath kept his drink. It constantly had a tendency to stare at passersby in an eerie silence. Some returned a gaze that hinted that wanted to engage in a fight, while others looked away in submission, afraid of an old world relic functioning so independently.

"Pull up your hood." Vahliath ordered, and the Magnaguard obeyed. A hood adjusted to its cloak hung low over its face. It didn't need to see. Vahliath needed to see. Search for someone who he could recruit for his mission to Utapau. He tugged the sleeve of the bartender behind the counter, who looked, unimpressed. Customers were customers, though.

"I was wondering if you could help me." Vahliath said. The bartender remained silent, waiting for Vahliath to build on his vague request.

"I'm searching for some people. Experienced people. Who can handle themselves. Doesn't matter what faction they follow; what their beliefs, opinions and reputations are. I'm sure you have come to get familiar with your familiars."

The bartender remained in a moment of silence, then looked to the Magnaguard standing still beside its master. He was hesitant in saying. "For. . . the right amount, of course."

Money spoke the same tongue in all languages. Vahliath placed a device on the table which held 2,000 credits. Now he knew why the bartender was hesitant to ask him: afraid of an old world machine turning its head at such a demand. If it really wanted to, the Magnaguard could beat an answer out of him. It turned its head, peering down at the counter from under the hood.

The bartender quickly stuffed the "goods" into his pocket. A Kamarian, he was, so quick was he in his reflexes. He gestured for Vahliath to lean closer, and he did without hesitation.

"We have our familiars come in - but none are here yet. They'll help you - for the right amount. I don't see them here yet, but they'll come. They always do. Remain a little longer, and I'll point them to you when they arrive. Until then, you and your Droid relax. Enjoy. . . the atmosphere." He poured Vahliath another drink - complimentary. Vahliath gestured his thanks and turned around to face the rest of the watering hole behind him. There were people - several of them. Drinking, gambling, enjoying some time in Solitude. People beside him, people walking past. Beings from all different backgrounds and species.

Who knows? Maybe a passerby heard Vahliath speak. Had they been interested, the rewards would certainly be. . . beneficial. Generous.






Quest Location: Utapau
Rewards: Loot scavenged from the sites, 30,000 Credits for accompanying

 

[Darth Chagrin]

Kovereg watched the entire conversation take place from the balcony of the second floor. Background noise in the bar, though at a relative low at this hour, was still enough to at least partially obfuscate the details of their conversation to the average observer from this distance. Years of listening in on people among crowded places from a distance had given Kovereg the ability to fine-tune his hearing to focus on the conversation in question. Of course, to anyone even mildly experienced in business, it was clear that the customer was looking for something, or wanted something. The way he paid the bartender, his body language and the bartender's, it was all too obvious. But it did help that Kovereg was able to hear what the man was looking for. Experienced people who could handle themselves, regardless of their background. He was willing to get to know them. Kovereg wondered how experienced the man was himself. One would have to be experienced, brave or stupid to openly embrace any person in a galaxy as dangerous as this one. Or maybe he wanted dangerous people. Whatever he wanted, Kovereg was willing to take him up on his offer.

Walking back to a table on the second floor, Kovereg checked on a Cathar who was slumped over the desk. Dead, from a spiked drink, and still nobody knew. They would've thought him passed out from too much alcohol. Job done. His employer had said that he had some sort of looker here — Kovereg suspected the Duros on the far side table, with whom he briefly locked eyes — who would ensure that he completed his task satisfactorily, and dispose of the body cleanly and subtly. Kovereg didn't like being spied on, but that was the nature of the business. Security, surety. Didn't matter unless Kovereg wasn't sure that he had done his job. Which he was. By tomorrow morning he expected that when he opened his fourth bank account that he would be twenty thousand credits richer.

Satisfied, Kovereg quietly went down the stairs to the first level. Quietly enough that the bartender didn't immediately notice, despite having known Kovereg (under a different name, of course) for seven, nearly eight years now. The customer at the counter was still there, as was his accompanying droid. The droid had pulled up its hood, perhaps for anonymity's sake, but the way it stood was too stiff, too inhuman, for any experienced observer to think it an ordinary customer even from behind. Kovereg walked up to the counter, next to the man — not the droid — and ordered "the usual".

Turning to the man, Kovereg said, "I heard you were looking for someone. Experienced, can handle themselves. Any background." He didn't bother introducing himself further than that. "What's the job?"

@Vahliath Imperious

 

[guest.224]

Oblivious was he to the events that transpired on the above floor. Had he known, he’d sooner embrace he who bore responsibility for the death than sell them out to the relevant authorities. Such events were expected in that kind of place, nonetheless. Vahliath was sure it was happening somewhere around him. If it didn’t, he was in the wrong place. Thankfully for him, fate would play right into his hands, in the form of a man that would soon come to his attention.

Vahliath sat facing the counter when the man came and expressed knowledge in Vahliath’s words. The Magnaguard turned its head in sincere concern, for this was a place not to be presented by strangers so lightly. Vahliath subtly gestured for the Droid to ease. Words spoken from the stranger were surely welcomed by the white-haired male, and the Droid’s influence could tamper with why he came there in the first place. He held a formal look when he turned his head to face the stranger. A look that said this was professional, not some galactic thug looking for a short-term stability. When Vahliath dealt business, he meant business. This was a job offer, and he had an employee— partner. Through his spectacles, he stared at the stranger with hazel hues. Just by looking at him, his appearance spoke a thousand words of experience. Just the kind of man Vahliath was looking for.

“I’m glad word gets around quick,” Vahliath said before taking the top off his drink. He spoke as professional as his expression gave off. Serious, in all his nature. “I’m looking for someone to accompany me to a dangerous place. A place riddled with danger, just as much as it’s riddled with riches. Mercenary, assassin - even a turncoat from a faction you don’t wish to confess. If you can handle yourself - which I’m sure you can - then you’re just the man I’m looking for.” Vahliath slid his drink away from himself, towards the bartender. It was a prop, above anything. Vahliath wasn’t much of a drinker, and drinking too much in a place like this would swell his stomach out like a Hutt.

“The job description is to accompany me to this dangerous place. Help me get rid of the danger and haul the loot back to the ship. We’ll split the goods - sixty-fourty, if you take interest in it. I’m paying 30,000 Credits just for accompanying. 40,000 if you decide you don’t want any of the findings. I’m happy to buy out your share of what we find, and pay you a 10,000 deposit now as insurance I won’t run when this is over. You think you’d be interested?”

[member="Kovereg Artebayn"]

 

[Darth Chagrin]

When the droid cocked its head toward him, Kovereg's eyes met, for the briefest of moments, with the crimson glare of its own which betrayed an abyssal coldness. He didn't like machines for that reason; they were colder than him. The rest of the droid's features, particularly the exposed circuitry which gave the impression of a face partially clawed away, might have been horrifying for someone else, but Kovereg had seen worse on many occasions. For him, it was simply the eyes that instantly reminded him of why he disliked droids.

If that was an obstacle, it was overcome as quickly as it appeared. The other man tempered the droid and responded in a businesslike, professional tone. Already, the man had accepted Kovereg's unspoken credentials. The terms of the offer clearly and cleanly — just as Kovereg liked it. His mind immediately zeroed in on the key words. "Accompany", "dangerous place", "danger", "riches". Nothing unprecedented as of yet; all agreeable, depending on the offer itself. Then the man took a few stabs at Kovereg's identity. "Mercenary". Not quite. "Assassin". Certainly. "Turncoat". Perhaps, but there wasn't anyone left to accuse him of being one.

At last the man got to the offer. It was enticing enough; 30,000 credits just for accepting. Kovereg had enjoyed bigger paychecks before, but that didn't mean this was one to dismiss. No details were offered on the loot or the finding, save for the fact that this other man apparently felt they were worth about 10,000 credits. But he was willing to offer as much as insurance. Then the question: are you interested?

"Could be," Kovereg replied. Not a decisive answer, but it was honest. And Kovereg didn't know enough to be decisive yet. "Most of your terms are agreeable, but I want to know more. Where are we going, and what kind of danger are you expecting?"

@Vahliath Imperious

 

[guest.224]

Playing hard to get huh? Vahliath got the impression he wasn’t short in his pockets, especially to act so uncertain about a job that seemed too good to be true. Luckily for him, Vahliath wasn’t the type to engage in false advertisement. That led to bad business — bad reputations. No one wanted to work with a liar. “Of course — you’re entitled to know that much. I like how analytical you are.” Vahliath gestured for the droid to pay the drinks. It provided the bartender with more than enough, accompanied by an invasion lean over the counter, as if it was able to climb over. The bartender got the jist; his business was the keep of the bar, not what Vahliath wanted to discuss. He scurried away with those inspectoid legs, turning his attention to another customer at the far end of the bar. Once he was out of ear’s reach, Vahliath was content to continue.

“It’s Utapau. There’s an underground cavern system there, cut off from the surface. Down there, the old world breaths in artificial life. Machines of old, awoken by the interruption of the new era. I tried to bypass their programming, but they acted almost sentient. Like they were trying to protect the riches around them. The riches that made them. The only one I managed to pull from the old world was this one.” He gestured to the Magnaguard looking around the bar, uncaring towards their conversation. “I found it on board an old world ship. From the Clone Wars. There’s more like that down there, comprised of technology that doesn’t exist anymore. Priceless to someone like me. The only thing that is preventing me from retrieving them is their quantity. It’s why I need someone to come with me.”


[member="Kovereg Artebayn"]

 

[Darth Chagrin]

The conversation so far had taught Kovereg a few things about this man. First, he valued privacy and knew how to get it. Second, he had control, and third, he valued professionalism and possibly had standards comparable to that of Kovereg's own. He was a plausible, viable partner, someone worth doing business with. You could never know — or trust — someone right after meeting them for the first time. But you could certainly get a feel for them, and Kovereg's hunch was that this man would be a better business partner than most he had seen in the last year or two. It was a rare opportunity to work with a potentially like-minded person; that in of itself was a tempting addition to the offer.

Having heard the details of the other man's intended journey, Kovereg confessed that it was rather unlike anything he had done before. He disliked droids, and he imagined this trip would not alleviate his distaste for them. That wouldn't be a problem if he was just shooting them, but the other man had expressed an interest in some of the Utapaun technology. On the other hand, he had made a point of not minding a potential assassin accomplice before. Surely his mission necessitated not only violence, but death — or whatever it's droid equivalent was. And Kovereg's dislike of droids didn't necessarily mean the idea of uncovering exotic technology wasn't intriguing either. If anything, this unusual quest would be a good break from his usual work, one taken with a more appealing partner than most, and it had the potential for significant reward as well. Even if it didn't, 40,000 credits wasn't something to scoff at.

"I accept. But I must warn you; I do not share your appreciation for droids. You guessed correctly that I am an assassin. Know that I prioritise my own safety. If anything threatens me, I will neutralise it. If there is violence, expect destruction. I will not hold back unless there are some of these "riches" at stake. I take it you are interested in the rare technology, not the droid defenders themselves?"

@Vahliath Imperious

 

[guest.224]

"--Of course," Vahliath said amidst turning on the stall, just a small poodoo to angle himself further towards the stranger. "I don't believe in hiding the fact that there is a definite threat of danger. However, my interest extends towards the droids, as well as what they are guarding. Their technology is one of a kind. Killing them if they pose too much of a threat is not a problem. All I ask is that you do not openly result to immediate destructive means and neutralise them beyond repair. I'd very much like to have at least some of them intact."

And he meant it. The value they had was like gold dust to a person of science like Vahliath. Probably the same way this assassin found certain weapons to be of significant value, given his line of work. Vahliath failed to comment on his confession regarding his line of work, however. It meant only good things for Vahliath. A man who could be stealthy - cautious. His appearance spoke of experience, and Vahliath loved to see that in someone. He slid his hand into his coat, pulling out a a handheld device. That was it: the despot, which Vahliath so contently placed on the counter, keeping his hand over the small machine. Its font specified 10,000. No more, no less. When one was dealing business like this, they had to ensure the money was openly announced, lest distrust brew among two beings looking to benefit from one another.

"So - what do you say, Assassin? Would you be up to the task?"

[member="Kovereg Artebayn"]

 

[Darth Chagrin]

Kovereg turned his voice down into a hushed whisper. He leaned in slightly to match the other man's slight turn towards him. "Your request is not unreasonable. Assassins place a high premium on accuracy and precision. But it will depend above all on what we are confronted with on that world." It was possible that the droids would be so overwhelming so as to necessitate certain destructive measures. It might have even been possible that the odds were so overwhelming that the duo themselves would be overwhelmed, but Kovereg had ruled that out as highly unlikely given this man alone had managed to escape unharmed — and claim one of the world's treasures in the process.

Then the man offered his 10,000 credit insurance to indicate that he was genuine in all that he had said so far. Kovereg did trust him so far. But anyone who had worked long in the underworld knew that trust was a rare but valuable commodity. And all commodities were represented and transacted through actions, not words. This man seemed to understand that.

Leaning back out and taking the offer, Kovereg said in a more normal voice, "Give me time to prepare. When do we leave?"

@Vahliath Imperious

 

[guest.224]

“—Soon. Preferably.” Vahliath was quick to reply. “As soon as you’re capable of doing. Do you think you can be ready by in a couple of hours?”
[member="Kovereg Artebayn"]

 

[Darth Chagrin]

A couple of hours was more than sufficient for Kovereg to ready his equipment, formulate some sort of general strategy and ensure that he was in a satisfactory state of mind. "Yes," he replied flatly. "I would like to fly my own ship, tailing yours. When we depart we will be able to go our separate ways immediately."

He finished his drink. "Shall we say three hours? My ship is at the local spaceport."

@Vahliath Imperious