Private Just another Mandalorian, back in the Galaxy

[Itzhal Volkihar]

With the fixer's datapad in his possession and the usual defences bypassed by the stunned Advoze, Itzhal didn't take long to dive into the labyrinth of information hidden within. Each flick of his finger across the screen revealed another trove of data—transactions, messages, and hidden files—each a piece of a much larger and more intricate puzzle, with few efforts made to separate the different operations they'd been working with. Certainly, it was useful for his own investigation, though as he continued to piece together the evidence, he couldn't help but feel a level of disappointment in the sheer lack of operational security. It wasn't exactly encouraging to know that only an hour ago, he would have been willing to walk into a meeting with the man, completely unaware every detail involved would be catalogued and stored like a common note.

In a way, though, that was better than the few the Fixer had paid deeper attention to, the greed dripping from his words and the sheer callous lack of care for however many bodies he needed to drown a problem in, as the list of deceased grew and grew with every unprepared hire sent out to die. With this type of rap sheet, he should have been dead in a number of days. If it wasn't for the sheer number of transactions and notes passing between him and other handlers, he might have been baffled for a lot longer.

"Looks like you were right," Itzhal admitted numbly, already stuck on the much larger problem as he absentmindedly pulled switched his blaster to deadly and put a bolt through the Advoze's head. "Might be a bigger problem, though."

With that, he offered the datapad over.

Tag: Drego Ruus​

 

[Drego Ruus]

Tag: Itzhal Volkihar
​

Drego looked it over, and...

It wasn't anything he didn't already suspect. Plenty of men sent to their deaths for the sake of profit. Drego just let out a breath, and handed it back. "Ain't much we can do now. Stuff like this is too common. Find better jobs, get better contracts. Unless you think this goes deeper?"

Drego looked to his new friend with a tilt of his helm, as if to raise his eyebrow.

 

[Itzhal Volkihar]

With a steady grip, Itzhal reclaimed the datapad, his gaze fixed on the small device that seemed almost innocuous in his palm. Yet despite its paltry weight, he couldn't help but think upon the countless lives it had claimed, a passage of ghosts and their tales of loss at the sacrificial altar of another man's greed and lack of care. It said much that the other Mandalorian hadn't been surprised, nor did he consider such an occasion uncommon. When did a tragedy become the standard?

"Not much, no," Itzhal agreed, scrolling with one finger towards the nearest contracts and the few that remained active. He stopped by each, a quick motion deleting the contract and with a handy message sent their way in the progress along with payment, including to the kid who had left only a couple of minutes ago. "Still, one can hope for something better. Not that it'll happen without someone doing something to change it, especially not if there's more behind the scenes. But I ain't going to dig till I find something more to dig with."

As he passed by the bar and the wary bartender, their hands hidden out of view, Itzhal dropped off a couple of credits along the edge of a tipping jar, brought to a stop as they caught along the sticky slope. "For the disturbance."

Then he paused mid-step, his helmet tilted back towards the bar and his fellow Mandalorian as he slowly looked them up and down, his eyes searching for an unfamiliar clan symbol. "You know, I don't think I ever gave a name. Itzhal of Clan Volkihar, a pleasure vod."

Tag: Drego Ruus​