Private Job Well Done

[Alina Tremiru]

Alina let out a sigh, glancing through the courtyard of the building she'd.. Borrowed for the evening. It was comparable to her home back on Dromund Kaas. Large, expensive. Needless. Well, not as needless as she used to believe. Money, status, they were their own kinds of power, and for some that was a station needed to get them to serve. She sat in the garden, idly sipping at a cup of a deep red liquid as if she were at a tea party.

Sort of was. Today was a good day.

"They've arrived."

Another person, human in appearance yet clearly with something off about them, seemed to appear by her side. Alina nodded once, casting her ever loyal Guard a smile. "Show them in, would you?"

The Sangnir bowed, and once more disappeared to greet their guests. Her gaze drifted to the midday clear sky, smiling warm and bright.

Today was a really good day.

Dylan Marsek

 

[Dylan Marsek]

Tags: Alina Tremiru

The engines of the light freighter howled sharply in the night sky as it soared past the luxurious mansion. Banking left and making a U turn, the pilot bled the spacecraft’s speed. Slowing down as he reduced the craft’s collective, the landing gear of the light freighter firmly pressed against the ground, landing successfully on the far side of the courtyard.

Patting the pilot on his shoulder, the veteran mercenary turned around and walked out the cockpit. <”Wolf, Nimble; watch the scanners for any suspicious activity,”> the squad leader instructed over the comlink as he slowly made his way towards the cargo hold of the light freighter. Slipping off his helmet, the man firmly put on an unmarked, black patrol cap on top of his canescent hair. ”Theta and Omega, get posted up outside the ship on overwatch,” It wasn’t long after his commands that the boarding ramps of the freighter lowered with a mechanical growl. The mercenary squads were quick to follow the orders given by their squad lead. They weren’t expecting the deal to be off, or to be attacked by a foreign, unknown enemy, but one could never be too careful.

”Dylan, grab the packages, you’re with me.” He said, as he stepped out the freighter, walking down the ramp at a casual pace, killing time for the kid to catch up with him.

With hurried steps, the kid came out running down the ramp with a black assault pack in his grasp; the artifacts enclosed in the large, rectangular metal container was still hung over his right hip, attached to his cartridge belt of his webgear. Carrying the items of interest they had gathered from the ruins on Bar’leth inside the pack, the young lad gradually slowed down from a sprint and came to a halt beside Skif.

The reflection of his weathered face reflected back at him from the kid’s bright blue tinted helmet visor. ”You got everything?” the man asked as he shifted away the particle rifle hung over his chestplate to reach one of the pouches on his chest rig, producing a cigarra.

<”Yeah, yeah. Everything’s accounted for,”>

The veteran merc gave an approving grunt as he turned around and started walking into the courtyard with the kid in tow. Placing the cigarra between his lips, the man reached for another one from his pouch and extended his hand at the kid walking beside him, offering him a cigarra. The kid’s gaze fell on the smoke offered to him, then looked back at the man a moment later. <”Kind of you sir, but I don’t smoke.”> he said, turning down the offer from the seasoned veteran as they walked past the squads holding on overwatch; although their rifles remained lowered and held in a casual stance at the hands of the mercs, they were all ready to spring into action in a moment’s notice in the face of an unexpected adversary.

The man grunted in an undertone at the kid’s response. ”One day you will,” he predicted. ”Word of advice, lad. Just like you would never say no to bacta, never turn down a cigarra offered to you. Ever. Even if you don’t smoke.” He said, passing on a part of his wisdom; his right arm was still held stretched towards the kid, with the cigarra in his grasp. Pondering for a second, the kid eventually decided to accept the smoke. Slowly grabbing it, the kid gently tucked it into one of his empty chest rig pouches in an attempt to not crumple up the smoke and scatter the rolled up tobacco. ”Good lad.” he said, as he reached for a lighter to light his cigarra.

Meeting with the well-dressed butler halfway in the courtyard, the two mercenaries followed the man into the mansion to meet with their employer. Thankful for his helmet that hid the discomfort in his features, the kid kept a watchful gaze over their employer’s servant. The glowing, weird eyes of the man were the primary source of his discomfort. He could feel a chill running down his spine whenever his eyes met the pair of eyes glowing in a yellowish, golden hue. Shifting his gaze at the veteran merc, the man seemed far more relaxed than him. He wasn’t sure whether he had dealt with such people before and gotten used to it, or whether he simply didn’t care, and could hide his discomfort far better than him.

Chalking it up to his broad experience, the kid followed Skif close behind, as the latter followed the butler into the mansion in silence.

 

[Alina Tremiru]

"Lady Tremiru."

The overly dressed butler paused at the edge of the garden, head bowed. Arm motioning for the pair of mercenaries to step forward. Alina kept her gaze forward, staring out over the view the former owner of this estate must of enjoyed every morning. Well, now she was enjoy him. Funny thing, the circle of life. She brought the thick tea to her lips, taking a small sip before gently setting down the chinaware. Stood.

She was, uncharacteristically, in a sundress. Her last outfit was.. Stained. And that wouldn't do, not if she was trying to project wealth. The dress fit, but it did little to cover the muscle definition the Sangnir had. What should've been a dress to convey an almost meekness in turn just showed she was absolutely a fighter.

Her glowing eyes, the same color as the Butler who'd just left, turned to look at the pair. A calm smile stayed on her lips as she motioned to the table.

"Come, sit. I'd like to go over what you've brought."

Dylan Marsek

 

[Dylan Marsek]

Tags: Alina Tremiru

All this was a strange new experience for the young lad. Hailing from a backwater planet, having spent most of his time helping his mom and dad maintain their plot of land they farmed to make a living, never in his life had he seen such a large and decorated house before. He was impressed by the riches and the luxury within the household. It was a real pretty sight to behold. Although he didn’t really see himself as being so ambitiously striving to reach such a wealth in his life, he sure understood the allure of it. Money meant power, after all. That much he came to know and understand during the early stages of his mercenary career.

Casting his gaze around and about as he followed Skif, who seemed thoroughly unimpressed by his surroundings unlike the young mercenary, they followed the butler into the garden. Speeding up slightly ahead of the pair, the man with the odd glowing eyes brought them forth to their employer.

"Lady Tremiru."

Following the man’s gesture, the two mercs clad in unmarked, clean jetblack armor, stepped forth into the lively garden, walking towards the table in the middle, where their employer sat. Shortly after they approached their employer, the butler went back and disappeared into the mansion. Standing up to greet them, she set down her cup on its saucer, but not before taking a sip from it. The stylish sundress she wore sorely failed to hide the tone of her muscles underneath the expensive fabric.

She too had eyes similar to that of the butler.

Dylan could not recall seeing a species with such oddly glowing eyes before. Then again, he didn’t see much of the galaxy to begin with. All of this was new to him, but that didn’t stop him from uneasiness settling in. The eyes almost seemed like they could see through his flesh, peering into his soul.

It was very unsettling for the young lad.

"Come, sit. I'd like to go over what you've brought."

”Aecus, I assume?” Skif said as he sat down on the chair on their side of the table, across from her. After a brief moment’s hesitation, the young lad sat next to his squad leader, albeit with a hint of timidity.

Having a craving for another cigarra, the man reached for a smoke from his chest rig. ”May I..?” the veteran merc asked if he could smoke as he tucked the butt of the cigarra between his index and middle finger. Shifting his gaze to the lad sitting beside him, the man gave him a curt nod of his head, gesturing him to present the contract related items they were hired to bring to her.

Silently complying, the young lad set the black assault pack on the table in front of him, and unzipped it. Pulling out a rectangular metal container, similar to what he carried over his right hip, the young lad set it down beside the pack. Reaching to the case hanging over his right hip from his cartridge belt, the kid placed the other metal container next to the first one. Disengaging both their locking mechanisms after punching in their respective codes onto their keypads, the containers clicked open, revealing their contents to their employer.

”A datapad, several holo-drives, a stack of holo-disks, data sticks, a few scrolls and artifacts,” the seasoned merc would say as Aecus went about inspecting what they had brought back with them. ”Our techie checked all the electronics individually, decrypting the several holo-drives and datasticks. We could not discern the language the data within's written,” Skif said, going over the items. ”Though the data’s certainly not corrupted. We figured you’d like to inspect the data yourself,” Skif said, nodding at the datapad inside one of the metal containers.

Sitting in silence as he let his squad leader do the talking, the kid would carefully listen to their conversation as his gaze shifted around, scanning his surroundings without turning his head around an inch.

Already somewhat spooked by the butler beforehand, alarm bells started to ring as his gaze fell on the cup she drank from. The nature of the thick red liquid appeared familiar to him. It looked very much like blood, but could it have been wine instead? But who would even drink wine from a cup at this time of the day, anyway? It had to be blood, right? The acrid coppery smell certainly hinted at that.

Growing fearful of who or what they were dealing with here, the lad would keep his silence, trying to suppress the growing feeling of anxiety within him.

 

[Alina Tremiru]

Alina retook her seat once the pair of them did. She leaned back comfortably in her chair, idly sipping again at the tea. A simple nod was all she gave. Smoke was one of those things she didn't need to worry about. Fire, though. She cast it a sidelong glance before taking another sip. She glanced through the contents of the packages here and there, but never lowered her glass or reached out to inspect them closer.

She could see everything just fine like she was.

"I recognize the language. I appreciate you decrypting what you did, though in the future I will ask you let me do such things. This cult was very.. Skilled with technology. You don't know what you could've opened yourself to when messing with ancient artifacts." Then she heard it. Fear. The increase in a heartrate. The body tensing in preparation of fight or flight. Alina set down her class, leaning forward. Closer to Dylan specifically. She smiled, wide, flashing her fangs.

"Might I interest you both in some refreshments? A job well done deserves a celebration."

Dylan Marsek

 

[Dylan Marsek]

Tags: Alina Tremiru

"I recognize the language. I appreciate you decrypting what you did, though in the future I will ask you let me do such things. This cult was very.. Skilled with technology. You don't know what you could've opened yourself to when messing with ancient artifacts."

Taking a long drag from his cigarra, the veteran merc blew the smoke away from the woman as he listened to the woman. The man acknowledged what she had to say with a nod of his head. ”Yes ma’am.” He said, his dark gray eyes meeting with the pair of golden eyes before her. They were not well informed of the capabilities of the cult in question as the amount of intel they were provided by Aecus left some things to be desired, so he was unsure what sort of headaches their techie, Aiden, would have to endure after the decryption process if the devices contained counter measures against tampering.

But the man understood nonetheless. There were some things they were not meant to know or see while they went about with their work once they were hired to do a job. The things they saw they were not meant to, they’d forget, for their own good. Although he took the decision to make sure the data within the holo-drives, data-sticks and holo-disks were worth the attention from their employer, he was aware of the stakes. Making sure they came back with something worthwhile aside from the artifacts they were dispatched to retrieve, somewhat outweighed the risk of finding out something they weren’t supposed to.

Having calmed down some as he managed to have his thoughts drift away from the environment he found himself in, the kid’s heart would rapidly pound against his chest plate as he saw the pair of golden eyes drew nearer. The woman smiled from ear to ear as he leaned forward, looking directly at him; her bonewhite teeth and fangs glistened under the bright sun as light shone down into the garden.

What was she doing? What did she want with him?

The kid couldn’t help but pull himself a few inches backwards as she leaned forward; eyes widening, the young lad’s fists over his lap clenched without his notice. He wanted to stand up and leave, go back to the freighter with all due haste, but he couldn’t. He knew he had no choice but to sit and see this through. Although they were not wearing their patches and insignias, they still represented the Hellions. They were all held to a standard and were considered professionals. Being amongst their ranks, he was obliged to remain professional, and keep his calm; stay frosty.

Closing his eyes shut behind the tinted, bright blue helmet visor, the kid’s chest rose and fell underneath the broad chestplate he wore over his jetblack uniform as he managed to force himself to calm down some, focusing on his breathing for a moment. Having turned off his helmet annunciator, the kid’s loud sigh after a heave of breath remained confined inside his helmet.

"Might I interest you both in some refreshments? A job well done deserves a celebration."

His eyes fluttering open, the kid’s head slowly turned towards the old merc sitting beside him, his eyes widened; Skif would have no way of seeing the pleading eyes that begged him to say “no” from underneath his tinted helmet visor, and get done with the negotiations already.

The veteran squad leader briefly pondered Aecus’ offer for drinks in momentary silence. They were on a schedule and had places to be. They still needed to get rid of the freighter they had rented through a shell company of theirs. They had erased their traces so far, but they still had to get rid of the craft as an in depth inspection of the ship had the potential to reveal traces back to them, and perhaps even their employer. They simply could not let that happen.

The young lad’s situation also did not escape his perception. He didn’t need to be a force sensitive to feel how much the young lad had gotten tense. He very much was a greenhorn, having not a lot of experience under his belt. Although he would in time as he would find himself forced to deal with situations such as this, one way or the other.

As much as he wanted to kindly decline the offer for the kid's sake, they were yet to discuss payment. Though assuming that was next in the list, seeing as the woman did not express dissatisfaction with the items of interests they were tasked with bringing back, after inspecting them, talking payment was next on the list of subjects they would be discussing, logically speaking. Having a drink while they discussed that, did not pose a setback in their schedule. Denying her offer would also seem rather impudent.

”You’re too kind, ma’am.” the man said -much to Dylan’s silent protest- accepting her offer for drinks, as he kept his unflinching gaze at the pair of soul piercing golden eyes as he flicked the creeping ash of his cigarra to the ground; the blowing gentle wind swept it away, scattering in the wind.

 

[Alina Tremiru]

As if the acceptance was a trigger word the 'butler' seemed to materialize beside them with a tray filled with various drinks the former owner used to horde. Expensive drinks. The kind worth thousands of credits. He'd stand and wait for them to choose, expressionless and still as if a statue. Alina frowned only briefly.

Some things were harder to get over than others. The Tremiru programing of their House Guard was brutal and cruel indeed.

"If you keep looking at me with such fear I'll start feeling like a monster. I am just a girl you know." That was a lie, but she enjoyed teasing. How could she not? More importantly, if the boy couldn't keep himself in check, well.. The scarier jobs she had would have to be off the table. Bringing the artifacts was a trial of their skill. Now was a trial of their composure.

She took another small sip of the warm blood in her cup, turning her gaze towards the horizon.

"As agreed, your payment has been transferred upon inspection of the goods. I have a relatively brief job, however, if you're interested." She reached out to one case in particular. Pulling out the Thought Dowser held within before holding it towards Dylan. "This artifact will not harm you. Rumors state that those even without the Force can use it. I want you to use it. Vincent here is a willing subject, so order him whatever you'd like. So long as, of course, you don't try to get him killed. That would be quite rude."

Dylan Marsek

 

[Dylan Marsek]

Tags: Alina Tremiru

<It’s just body modifications, yeah? It’s just that, nothing else,> the nervous and jumpy lad repeated in his mind over and over to calm himself down. It eventually worked, as his tensed up muscles began to loosen; his breathing pattern becoming more relaxed. As long as he could come up with a seemingly reasonable explanation of both the butler’s and their employers rather unique physical traits in a grounded, down to earth manner, all was well.

Or at least it was for a moment, until the butler suddenly appeared again right beside the older merc. They hadn’t heard a door opening, or that familiar noise of clinking bottles and glass; the sounds that would foretell to the both of them, notifying them of the presence of the butler.

The kid slightly recoiled in his seat as his gaze snapped at the statue of a man, holding a tray that included all sorts of interesting choices of liquor. Even the old veteran was taken by surprise, albeit only for a moment that seemed to pass at the span of a heartbeat. There weren’t a lot of things or, people in the galaxy that could sneak up on him like that.

Just what were these people!?

”I must admit, you have a very refined and expensive taste, ma’am.” the old man said as he helped himself to a bottle of Dorian Quill among the selection of alcoholic beverages and a pair of whiskey glasses. Pouring himself and the kid a glass of the Dorian Quill, the old veteran gently pushed one of the glasses to Dylan’s way as Skif raised his own to his lips.

As he reached out and held the glass in his hands, the kid would look up from the glass of whiskey in his hand and at the pair of golden eyes of the woman that showed particular interest in him.

"If you keep looking at me with such fear I'll start feeling like a monster. I am just a girl you know."

His head hung slightly low in silent response. Maybe he was getting worried for no reason. Sure, their employer and her butler; something about them did not sit right with him one bit. But did it had to? No. No, it didn’t. Who knows what sort of other shady people he’d make business with throughout his career? Maybe it would be difficult for somebody else to top this encounter with the woman and her butler, but he was certain he’d come across shady and unsettling employers as long as he kept working this job.

Maybe having made peace with that reality long ago in his life, the old merc was nowhere near as stressed out as he was.

Feeling a moment’s respite as the woman’s gaze finally turned away towards the horizon as she took a sip from the contents of her cup, the kid pressed a button on his left vambrace, extending a metal, filtered straw to take a hefty sip from his drink. Although he started to regain his composure, with the Dorian Quill that burned down his throat significantly helped out, the kid still did not feel comfortable enough to remove his helmet yet.

"As agreed, your payment has been transferred upon inspection of the goods."

Talking about the payment, Skif nonchalantly whipped open the touch screen of his wrist computer with a flick of his right wrist and forearm. Frowning down as he checked the payment transfer details to their account, the man gave a curt nod of his head, confirming they had received the payment for their troubles. Although his suddenly tensing, inquisitive features relaxed, they remained stone-faced as ever afterwards.

"I have a relatively brief job, however, if you're interested."

Both of them looked up at the women in silent response. A brief job? Now what would that be? ”Color me intrigued. And what would that be, ma’am?” Skif asked, expressing interest for the job. If it was to be brief, they could make time for it in their schedule, and get some more pay out of it.

"This artifact will not harm you. Rumors state that those even without the Force can use it. I want you to use it. Vincent here is a willing subject, so order him whatever you'd like. So long as, of course, you don't try to get him killed. That would be quite rude."

As the woman extended the artifact towards him, the one he had held in his grasp in the ruins not too long ago, the kid slowly set down the glass of Dorian Quill on the table; his gaze shifting from the artifact to Skif. Although the veteran could not see the kid’s features, he very well understood the message the featureless visor conveyed to him; “what do I do?”

The thinking, calculating glow in the man’s eyes betrayed his stone-faced, weathered features. The young lad was under his care; so were the others that were assigned to his squad. He cared and thought for them, taking responsibility as their squad leader. If the circumstances were not so… tense, he would have intervened for the sake of the kid, and taken the job for himself.

But the woman had taken a particular interest in the young mercenary. It was up to him to decide for himself; would he take this simple job or not?

The man gave a nod of his head, broadly gesturing at the woman and the artifact she held in her grasp; his gaze wavered not from the bright blue tinted visor of the lad as he did, silently telling him to “make the call”.

Understanding the gesture, the kid’s visor shifted towards the artifact held before him. Heaving a muffled sigh, the kid retracted the metal straw back into its housing in his helmet, and turned on his helmet annunciator. Remaining silent for a moment, he mustered the courage to speak up as he pondered what he would say. He wasn’t sure about this “brief job’s”payout. He did not know what he would get in return after fulfilling the woman’s task she wanted him to do.

Before making his decision, he assumed it’d be best to find that out first.

<”What does one stand to gain from this task?”> the young mercenary politely inquired about what was in it for him, sounding -or trying to sound- as professional as Skif, but not as much, having lacking the air of authority and experience the older merc had. Her answer would play a significant part in helping him determine whether it was worth the trouble or not.

 

[Alina Tremiru]

"Asides from the rush of knowing what it's like to be a space wizard?" Alina let out an amused chuckle before motioning to Vincent. The tray was set on the table before the man produced a case. Within, a shining jewel. A Rainbow Gem, small in size. But glowing it's signature colors. And very much stupidly expensive for what was such a simple task.

"Just have him do whatever you want. But only think it. Saying it out loud would be cheating, no?" The Sangnir leaned forward yet again, hands clasped together as she rested her chin atop them. Watching the masked boy closely. Eagerly.

Dylan Marsek

 

[Dylan Marsek]

Tags: Alina Tremiru

"Asides from the rush of knowing what it's like to be a space wizard?"

Following shortly after the woman’s amused chuckle, the butler set the tray on the table and revealed a small case at her gesture. All sorts of lively colors shone and flashed brightly from the jewel before them. Although the kid had never seen such a pretty piece of jewel in his life before, and had no idea of its value, Skif had. The old merc let out a long whistle of amazement at the pretty sight, and just how disproportionately expensive it was, to be the choice for payment to do a simple task such as this. Drawing the lit cigarra to his lips, the man took a long drag of smoke as he mused; his eyes set on the jewel for a brief moment. Musing for a moment, the veteran thought of just how lucrative their future contracts would be with this employer, as long as she required their services.

The man turned his gaze to his inexperienced colleague sitting right beside him afterwards. His features remained neutral, but the expectancy for the kid to do something shone in his eyes.

<So what’s it gonna be, kid?> he thought to himself as he waited for the kid to make his decision.

"Just have him do whatever you want. But only think it. Saying it out loud would be cheating, no?"

The impressed young lad’s glance shifted over to the pair of golden eyes as the woman leaned forward on the table yet again; her hands clasped together, her chin resting at the top. She too seemed curious as to what he would decide.

Taking a look at the artifact before him, his tinted bright blue visor glanced away momentarily from the woman. The kid did not take long to consider the offer. A beautiful, pricy looking gem, in exchange for commanding her butler, Vincent, to do something as he used the artifact on him, to make him do something that would not put him in harm’s way.

Quite simple.

Deciding to follow through with the woman’s proposition, the kid looked up from the artifact in front of him and at their employer, giving her a curt nod of his head before reaching forth for the artifact on the table; though the young lad halted just an inch short of touching and grasping the artifact, his right hand remaining extended forth. He was having second doubts about it now, having remembered what happened the last time the object came to his grasp. The voices; incomprehensible whispering that grew only louder. If it weren’t for Skif, somehow managing to snap him out of it, he wasn’t sure what would have happened.

The tinted visor shifted towards the old merc for a moment. He trusted him to somehow snap him out of it again. Looking at the artifact yet again, the kid finally grabbed it as he heaved a breath, expecting to hear the voices again. They didn’t come rushing the moment he held the artifact, but he anticipated them nevertheless. Wanting to get this over with as fast as possible, the kid shifted his gaze towards the butler, Vincent, standing perfectly still beside the table.

If it weren’t for the fact that he wanted to do this as quickly as possible, he would have dwelled on the morally wrong implications behind this practice, thinking about his decision more thoroughly. Commanding another sentient being, against their will? To do your own bidding? Such power… And what if it came to be used by the wrong people?

Deciding not to dwell on what was right or wrong at that time, the kid closed his eyes as he shook his head, and tried to picture the butler doing push-ups on the ground in his mind; starting simple, for starters. Focusing hard on the picture in his mind, it didn’t take long to hear shuffling of his clothing; opening his eyes, the kid saw the butler had already assumed the position, and was doing push-ups rapidly.

After a few moments passing with the man continuing to do push-ups, the kid imagined him doing jumping jacks instead. As if the man received a stern verbal command to do so by a drill instructor, he stood up at an instant, assumed the correct position for the exercise and began to jump at a rhythm.

The kid couldn’t help but be amused at the sight of a butler doing push-ups and jumping jacks. It was around then he began to hear the whispers again. Expecting to hear them, he wasn’t as panicked unlike the first time, but would start to grow fearful of them, as he would start to make out what they said.

They were soft and incomprehensible at first, but in a short notice, an agamous voice among the whispers called out for him in a soft, convincing tone.

<Unsheath your blade.>

Eyes widened at what he just heard in his head; chills ran down his spine as his heart rate jumped up suddenly. He expected to hear the whispers, but did not expect to be able to make sense of them, to understand it. What’s worse was that the voice, they were tempting. He would be lying to himself if he said he didn’t think of following through with the voice’s request. But he chose not to, despite wondering what would come next. He could feel things would not end well if he followed through.

And the idea of taking control of another being, as if giving them orders like one would do with a droid through the use of a datapad, did not sit right with him. Not by one bit. Sure, their client said the man was a willing participant in this little… experiment? But he was her butler, he was obliged to do her bidding, just like they were obliged to do a client’s bidding -within constraints- upon taking a contract and providing them with their services. Who was to say he willingly wanted this? At least as mercs they could choose their contracts!

Shaking his head as if that would help getting rid of the voices in his mind, the kid set down the artifact on the table near its metal container, much to the whispers’ loudening protest.

 

[Alina Tremiru]

Alina watched in silence, a slightly amused smile on her lips. One that grew as she watched Vincent suddenly get down to do push ups. Push ups of all things? She stifled a laugh at the sheer innocence of such a simple request. The next, she couldn't hide her amusement. A laugh escaped before she could stop it, one that got a sharp glare from her butler as he started to hop up in down in classic jumping jacks.

Her gaze shifted to Dylan, watching the mask. She couldn't see his face, but she could hear his heart. He was having a blast, wasn't he? Until he wasn't. The jump in tempo, fear. Then the game was over. She pouted as he set down the device, but it'd confirmed what she wanted to regardless. It did indeed work in anyone's hands. Given his silence on whether or not he was Force Sensitive, he either didn't know or wasn't. So either someone untrained could control someone else so completely.

Or someone even without a sensitivity could do the same. Not that he smelled particularly strong in the Force anyway. Or perhaps that was his armor making it difficult to smell out? She'd have to pry him out of that suit at some point. She nodded once to Vincent, who dusted off his suit and gathered up the case to present to Dylan.

"Thank you for being so willing. When next I need a job done, I'll be sure to contact you. For now, I won't keep you any longer."

Dylan Marsek

 

[Dylan Marsek]

Tags: Alina Tremiru

The voices inside the young merc’s mind did not subside the moment he let go of the artifact; the whispers continued on, with the same voice from before incessantly commanding him to reach forth and draw a weapon. Refusing to comply with their bidding, the kid leaned back on his chair and closed his eyes shut; cradling the particle rifle in his hands that was suspended over his chest plate by its sling, he slightly rocked back and forth on his chair as he tried to battle the artificial impulse to do as the whispers and the voice commanded him to do, imposed on him by the artifact he had came into contact with.

<Draw your sidearm!> the agamous voice demanded; their once soft and convincing tone was now replaced with an angry, quite sinister tone. Gritting his teeth, the kid refused to comply. He didn’t know how to make it stop. The last time he had snapped out of it was with Skif’s help, and he didn’t even know what was going on with him. Thinking he wouldn’t hear them again, the young merc didn’t think to bring it up to him what exactly had happened, seeing as he didn’t hear the whispers again in his mind after shoving the artifact into the metal container.

He did not know of, or did not understand the artifact’s inherently corrupting nature. All he hoped for as he gritted his teeth was for the whispers and the voice to subside, for them to get out of his head.
Maybe, if he just ignored them and their commands, they would simply go away? All he wanted was for the voices to stop, and go back home. Back to their HQ; his bunks to be more specific. Get a nice, warm, tasty chow and hit the sack afterwards.

"Thank you for being so willing. When next I need a job done, I'll be sure to contact you. For now, I won't keep you any longer."

The young merc’s wish would be fulfilled, and quickly.

“Thank you, ma’am,” Skif muttered in a soft, yet audible tone as he flicked the spent cigarra butt to the ground, and stepped on it while he rose from his seat from the table, putting out the cigarra. Having stuck around for their client’s sake, the time to go had come and passed a few minutes ago already. They needed to get going now. “The satisfaction of our client is the main priority of our business. We would be more than happy to continue providing our services to you as you require them,” He said as he spared a moment’s glance to his younger and inexperienced colleague beside him. Hearing the time had come to take their leave, the kid tried to stand up from his seat, but struggled to do so for a moment, momentarily feeling weak from the silent, invisible battle he was waging against the whispers in his mind.

Seeing his situation, the grizzled merc helped him up as he grasped him by his left bicep respectfully, and brought the kid to his feet. Reaching forth for the case their client’s butler held towards Dylan, the old merc took it for the kid’s sake. Tucking the small case under his arm, a faint grin emerged from his weathered features before turning around, and walking out of the garden. “I look forward to our next contract. Till we meet again, ma’am.”

Respectfully helping the kid walk, the two saw themselves out at a slow pace. ”The hell’s the matter with you, son? the man asked, when he perceived their client and her butler were far away enough to not hear them talk to one another; Skif’s voice was stern, yet lacked the distinct intonation of anger. Genuinely caring for the kid’s well being, he was trying to understand what had got to him.

<”Voices… Whispers,”> the young merc muttered to him; the whispers began to subside slowly as they walked out the door and into the courtyard. They began to leave a headache in their wake as the agamous voice was no more. Clutching and cradling his particle rifle still, the kid impulsively held and rubbed his helmet, where his left temple would be. <”That… thing we brought back from the ruins. You saw what she requested me to do! It’s messing with my mind,”> having walked out of their client’s and her servant’s earshot distance, the kid finally voiced his concerns to his squad leader.

The old merc listened to him in silence as they made roughly halfway into the courtyard; the pair of dark gray eyes looked at the featureless bright blue visor of Dylan’s. <”Just who were those people, anyway? Those eyes! they looked like nothing I’ve seen before! And-and-and that cup! That cup she drank from. It, it looked just like-”>

”Listen to me son,” the old merc came to a halt, stopping the kid at the same time with a respectul, yet firm pull. ”It doesn’t matter who or what they are, or whatever she does with that artifact. That doesn’t concern us. Not even in the slightest,” he said as he reached for the case he had tucked under his arm. Opening the case, the man showed the extremely rare gem in the case. ”Do you even know what this is? Do you have any idea how much this costs, black market prices aside?” the man asked a rhetorical question. Knowing the kid wasn’t aware of just how precious the gem was, he continued to speak. ”You can purchase a small fleet of warships with this thing. Or start up your own merc company,” the man closed the lid of the case shut, and thrusted the case to the kid’s chest plate. Somewhat reluctantly, the kid grabbed it with his left hand from Skif’s grasp. His head bowed down in mild shame as the veteran merc would begin to drill the facts of the job into his head.

For none other than the kid’s sake. God willing, he would make a verysolid merc out of him.

In due time.

”We get chit done. We are mercenaries. We provide a service. This job, although certainly not as easy, is no different than working in a kitchen as a cook, or painting a commissioned piece as an artist, in essence.” gently grasping him by his left bicep, the two mercenaries resumed walking towards their light freighter as the veteran merc continued to speak. ”You think those guys at the back-of-the-house give a flying kark about what their guests do with their food? No. Their worry is to prepare it as fast and as best they can,” raising his free hand, the old man signaled the mercs in the distance who were on overwatch around the courtyard, to head back into the freighter. Turning his gaze back at the kid again, the man went on as they walked.

”Same chit with us, lad. Getting the job done, as fast and as smooth as possible,” The old man’s wisdom made sense to the lad. Not only the things he said were the cold hard facts about the job, but all of it was also meant to protect the psyche of a mercenary, he thought. Once they were contracted, they were expected to fulfill their terms of contract. That was what they were paid for. They could not be torn between the right or wrong while on the job, or mosey about who their clients were, wondering just who they were serving.

It all made the job far easier on the merc that way, as long as they could grasp the philosophy of their line of work. Understanding it all, the kid looked up at the pair of dark gray eyes beside him, continuing to listen to the old merc in silence.

”Once you sign and agree to a contract, you do not care whether what you’ll be doing would be right or wrong. You just do it. You do what you’re hired for,” he said as they came to a halt at the edge of the ship’s ramp; the squads had already walked inside. The old merc drove the point home in hopes of preventing any slip ups when he conducted business during his career, whether out in the field or during negotiations of a contract or for their rewards, like today. ”Do you understand?” the old merc asked; an inquiring glint appeared in his eyes while his features remained stern.

The sooner he understood the true nature of what he had signed up for, the better for the kid.

The young merc gave a slow nod of his head as he looked Skif in the eye underneath his tinted visor. <”Do what you’re hired for,”> the kid repeated what he was told. That’s what meant to be a professional. Don’t get caught up in all the details of the job. Do what you’re paid to do.

”Good lad,” although it was quick to fade away into his usual stern expression, a hearty grin appeared from his features as he patted the kid on his left shoulder. ”Now come on, we got a schedule to catch up to.” he said as he walked up the ship’s ramp. <”Right behind you,”> he said as he walked several steps behind the old merc. Pausing mid way, the kid turned behind him to look at the mansion across the large courtyard.

He had a feeling this would not be the last time he’d come here, or meet with the woman in person again. The payout they got from her contract was lucrative, and if this was to be expected from the other contracts they’d be offered from her? They would definitely be accepting.

But the idea of a lucrative pay didn’t stop him from slightly dreading future encounters with her again. Sure, he was now fully made aware of the philosophy of the job and all, and had understood Skif’s point, it didn’t help the fact that just how unpleasant it was to be under the gaze of those soul penetrating, glowing eyes of hers. Something about the woman just didn’t feel right to him. At least for now. Maybe he could get over that in time.

Hearing the whine of the engines of the light freighter starting up, the young lad heaved a sigh. Turning around, he disappeared into the ship as he walked up the rest of the ramp. Soon after coming aboard, the ramp closed behind him. Taking off with a shudder not long after the engines spooled up, the freighter began raising its altitude, and soon would disappear into space, as the ship would make its way to the planet’s orbit, then enroute to a rendezvous point for the mercs to ditch the ship and make themselves scarce as a group until the next job.