Roth Likonis
Industrialist
"The Mirrorman"
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It had been a long flight, to say the least.
A fifteen jump route across nearly the breadth of the galaxy; through nebula, across the edge of a singularity, between binary stars. More than once he had been stopped by government patrols. The route was winding, complicated, and often used hyper-routes that had been deemed so unstable and dangerous that they weren't used anymore. But the instructions...they'd been specific.
"Take the route exactly as described. No deviation. Failure to comply will result in termination of offer."
Termination of employment. Jashin hadn't even met his employer yet, let alone agreed to work for him, and he already didn't like him. Even now, the small Marketta-class shuttle that Jashin laughingly called his "starship" spiraled and arced through space, dodging asteroids and meteorites, the port-side engine alight in actinic blue flame. In the pilot's seat, an astromech droid (Jashin didn't know the model, nor did he care enough to find out), hurriedly tried to compensate for the slurry of rock, frantically turning its head to beep at Jashin as it did so.
Bp-reep-reep-woot! (I wasn't designed for this!)
"I've told you, and told you." Replied Jashin impatiently, tapping his foot on the deck plating. "That I can't understand you. I don't speak beep-boop-bort or whatever it is they call your language. When I bought you, I- FRACK, LOOK OUT FOR THAT ROCK!"
With a robotic squeal of terror, the droid's domed head snapped away from Jashin and back to the viewport, the shuttle spinning like a top as it peeled away from a positively monstrous asteroid threatening to flat them within moments. As the asteroid whizzed past, just barely, Jashin and the droid releasing a collective sigh; not soon after, Jashin started banging his fist on the droid's dome.
"Look." Bang "Where." Bang "Your." Bang! "Going!" BANG! Said Jashin, punctuating each word with his fist. "I'm not going to die from a space rock!"
Reep-reep-do-dee-do! (I'm not even a pilot droid! Don't hit me!)
Just then, the navigation console began beeping. Extending a manipulator to shut it off, the droid whistled excitedly, gesturing out the window and at one of the approaching asteroids. Not but a few kilometers off, it was large, large enough to hold its own gravity, even. In orbit around it was a smaller asteroid, one that had a small outpost built into it - little more than a tiny hangar and a small spire that bristled with antenna. It looked to be an abandoned comm relay station.
"That's it?" Asked Jashin, incredulously. "I flew across the fracking galaxy for this?"
But even as he complained, he ordered the droid to begin landing procedures.
Two weeks ago, he had been passed out drunk in a dive hostel. No work. No plans. No future. The Kafrene job was his last chance; and though he had executed it perfectly, the fact that his intel had been wrong, and the loot worthless, meant that the end result was the same - failure and destitution. The debtors were going to come and chop him for his organs. Jashin had resigned himself to the void of drunken oblivion, when the message had popped up on his computer. It came unbidden, bypassing encryption; how its sender even new Jashin was there a bigger mystery than the message itself.
Life had changed after that.
Jashin had thought it a joke at first. Some sick slicer that enjoyed toying with down on their luck degenerates. But the message had been far too specific; his professional name, "Moonfish", had never been widely circulated. That by itself meant nothing; anyone who did a little digging would connect a man fitting Moonfish's description to a rash of agricultural burglaries in the Braxant Run. No, no what freaked Jashin out more than anything was the use of "Giran". How the messenger had gotten hold of that name, how he had connected the dots between Jashin and that name...
This was no prank.
By the time he had checked his credit balances, his entire debt had been paid, plus two thousand extra for travel. After some deliberation (and a day of sobriety), Jashin had bought a (heavily) used shuttle and droid with the money, and had charted a course. And now...now he was about to get some answers.
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The shuttle landed in the hangar with a crash; quite literally.
Landing gear squealed and screeched, engines sputtered, and the shuttle careened across the hangar deck, knocking over cargo crates and coolant canisters. Coming to a rest against a far wall (crunching its nose cone flat) it blessedly settled for a moment, before, with a final effort, burst into flame. Frantically, the astromech used its magnetized feet and trundled along the outer hull, its fire extinguisher blasting madly as the little droid tried to save the ship. But it was no use. By the time it had gotten the majority of the fires out, the wiring and components had been melted and fried.
"Another ship scrapped." Muttered Jashin as he watched the tableau play out before him. "What is it with me and ships?"
Beep-beep-beep-reep-doot! Reep-reep-doot-doot-reep! (You killed her! The ship computer was my only friend and you killed her!)
"Oh, shut up, drama queen." Muttered Jashin once more. "Stay with the ship. I'll be back. Probably. Dunno how I'm going to get off this rock." Turning away from the wreckage, Jashin took in the small hangar. It looked like no had been here in years; a fine layer of dust covered nearly everything, and cobwebs cluttered the corners and rafters. It was small, barely room for three or four ships, with just a single exit by the looks of it - a pair of turbolift doors on the far wall. "Turbolift it is, I guess." Punching the button for the lift, Jashin didn't have to wait long before the doors grated open with a screech. Hesitantly entering he took the short ride to the upper level.
The outpost was composed of two levels, apparently, the lower hangar level and the upper communications level. The upper level was equally disused, and equally small; it was comprised of a central room with a holotank, surrounded by chairs, and three rooms that branched out from the central room. Living quarters, mess, and refresher, by the looks of it.
Nothing looked used. Nothing looked touched. How long had the outpost been abandoned? Years? Decades?
"Uh...hello?"
With a hum, the central holotank whirred to life - on a far wall, computer equipment came to life. Clicking and beeping, the computers seemed to be communications equipment. Made sense, with it being a comm station and all. The holotank's holographic field initialized, a flashing "connecting" message briefly pulsing. Not a scant moment later, the field distorted, then resolved itself into the figure of a man sitting in an austere office, the broad expanse of a starfield behind him.
Or...it was probably a man. Dressed in a business suit, the humanoid (or droid?) had a head that looked like it was composed of liquid silver. Whether it be casing or high-tech mask, the surface was so reflective that it reflected the being's surroundings - a broad starfield featuring a colorful nebula. Silently, the man took in Jashin, before speaking first. "Well...you took your time, no? But then the others haven't arrived yet either. So I suppose you're early." Its voice was buzzing and distorted. Not quite synthetic; but modulated, going up and down in frequency, pitch, and cadence. Jashin couldn't begin to tell if it was male or female, young or old, if it had an accent or regional dialect.
"You...aren't what I was expecting." Said Jashin, slowly. Hesitantly, he walked over to one of the chairs situated around the holotank, and sat down - but not before dusting it off meticulously - the action giving him time to think."What's with the, uh..." Jashin gestured to his face.
"Ah, yes. Forgive the theatrics. I will be keeping my person...private. The camouflage was necessary in that regard. You may call me...Mirrorman. Apt and descriptive, no?"
"You said others?" Inquired Jashin, still taking the man in.
"Yes. I offered four potential recruits something of value. I need each of you, a team working in concert. Together...I believe we can help each other. Me, with my problems, and you...with your lack of wealth."
"What kind of -" Began Jashin, before being cut off.
"- I'll stop you right there, Moonfish. Asking questions is pointless until the others have arrived. I'll debrief you all simultaneously...my time to communicate is limited, the window of time in which this station is aligned to transmit is finite."
"Fine. I'll wait." Said Jashin, crossing his arms and leaning back in the chair. Inwardly, though, the man unnerved Jashin greatly; Jashin couldn't get a read on the man. Through kinetic communication, the man emitted...nothing. His body language was neutral, his micro-gestures neutral. Everything was controlled. Measured. Calculated. Jashin nearly suspected the man of being a droid, but he lacked the mechanical and jerky aspect that was inherent to a machine body. No...this was someone who had been trained in secrecy.
So he waited. At the least, Jashin would hear the man out; someone who had gone to all this trouble had to have something sizable to offer, right? And Jashin's curiosity wouldn't be satisfied until he had at least heard the particulars.
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