Garick Kalth
Character
N A R S H A D D A A
Industrial Sectors
"Hutt space, I hate damn Hutt space. Every blasted planet smells the same."Garick grumbles beneath his helmet, stepping off the boarding ramp from the Black Fenn, making his way from the dock there with a heavy sway to his step. It had been three days, three days of information squeezing on this depraved planet, knocking over low level slicers and information dealers, tapping holo-net nodes, and trying to do it faster than every other tom dick and harry with a blaster for hire. The job was small fish, some slicer by the Alias of 'akkd0g_' stuffing his nose in places it didn't belong, and now someone with credits wanted it chopped off. That someone was known just as Feric, another small fish swimming in a big pond all too crowded, his business his own but he had credits and Garick had always been the sort to see things for himself rather than ask 'bloody questions all the time'. Despite the tedious nature of the job, the credits were good, an easy 10,000, or so the posting had said.
Garick shuffles his way through the streets laden with thugs and lowlifes, he didn't stick out much. Even for Nar Shaddaa the industrial sectors had a reputation for scum and crowds, the slums of the slums. A perfect place to hide, if someone wanted to. But not forever. Garick makes his way to the dilapidated holonet node he had last tapped, reaching to flip off a small panel of his left bracer he draws a small wire from it, and plugs it into the torn open access port, a file transfer begging to deliver him all the data his tap had been sieving off the node. Garick looks about himself as this happens, ensuring there isn't some trigger happy gang banger behind him looking to make a name for himself. He'd spy some shifty looking Rodian watching him and glares at the man beneath a red visor, the alien receiving the message immediately and shambling away.
"I hate Hutt space... Every planet's got the same creeps."
Finally after the transfer completes Garick returns the cable to his bracer and begins looking over the data from it, finally pinging a source location. Tapped holo-net nodes, stolen power distribution readings, Intel gathered from the street, everything cross referenced gave a pretty solid assurance of this slicers specific location. Had to be sure it's the place, slicers always have a way to weasel out of it until you corner them. The place was a workers housing unit, one the workers had long since abandoned. Now it was a block of squatters, junkies, and thugs all looking to lay low, somewhere you can do what you want without having visitors. If only it worked all the time. Need to hurry, before some jumpy bastard with a fifty credit blaster steals my pay. Whoever 'akkd0g_' was, they were about to get a lesson in humility. The apartment was located in the less inhabited upper levels of the structure, penthouses that would've been used has influence for the workers whom once lived here to climb the ranks, though the living conditions were none the less sub par.
Crime lords rarely treat their laborers with decency. The door was obvious, a security camera posted outside it and magnetically locked. Unfortunately, it did. If 'akkd0g_' didn't know he was coming before, which wasn't likely, he sure did now. Raising his left fist to aim at the camera he launched an electrodart into the thing, frying it for life. His right fist then raised and with four pneumatic 'foomp' noises he launched four magnetic micro grenades to the corners of the door, each one connecting and sticking to the metal there with a resounding 'clack'. He didn't know what to expect in the room beyond, some low life no doubt, probably ready with a holdout blaster or some cheap stun knife. In preparation himself, Garick draws the K23 from his underarm holster, only a moment later do each of the grenades explode, sending the door falling inwards. He'd advance through the smoke as it clears.
"Your doorbell wasn't working."
