Private Of Optics and Leaks

[Kallirróē Vrenth]

OUTFIT: x
TAG: Darth Yuthura | Zet Reav

OUTPOST #3, HOTH, ANOAT SECTOR, OUTER RIM TERRITORIES

"Master, he is here."​

The heater barely warmed the decorated room I am currently residing in. The wind and breeze that swept through the barren, desolate frozen plain of Hoth, is a beast that even the mightiest of the galaxy would never get used to. It brought misery to everyone, yet it also reminds me of the good old days, the Imperial days. Lokondo, Galidraan, Ziost, Mygeeto. Cold is something that I associate with it, and at the harshest of them all, I established my frontier. A hidden monument celebrating how far have I got since the sad, foretold decline of the Empire.

Working for yourself has its own perks. You can pick and choose the missions you are interested in, how and with whom you are doing it, and how much you are going to make. I have spent the last five, six years working on my own, at first as an independent hired-gun, now as a direct-actions consultant for hire. The power struggle and shifts of power throughout the galaxy has proven to be a good avenue for the hunt. When you grew up an imperial, you are more capable than 99% of the galaxy, and that's a good enough pitch for most clients. Jab the job, grab the money, and they'll whisper your name throughout the underbelly of the galaxy..

Yet it's not all rainbows and butterflies down here. Sometimes, having the backing of a large organization means you don't have to waste 60 hours to chase what's rightfully yours. You do your job, you get your money. There is no uncertainty at that. There's almost zero risk of getting burnt and robbed by disgraceful clients. Which disastrously just happened on the last mission I took.

It was nothing out of the ordinary. A cargo ship going from Sith space to Bespin, sounds normal. We were supposed to intercept the ship before it entered Bespin, take it for a spin to Lutrilla, move the cargo into a designated ship. Faso, the client, would receive the shipment, while I receive my payment and pay the independent contractors. Simple. However, it turns out that the cargo was a false flag, a dirty bomb planted by a rival crime-lord. When it reached Anoat, the cargo exploded, killing a couple of Faso's men and damaging parts of his castles. Not my problem, I took the right ship, intercepted it in the right lane, brought Faso the right cargo. The problem is, Faso refused to pay for not delivering the intended cargo, which only happened because of his unreliable source. Meanwhile, I still had to pay the good folks I contracted. After all, reputation is as important as information, and I intended to be the tallest person in the galaxy.

So here am I, one system away from Anoat, 60 hours away from striking the death blow to Faso and take what's mine. I contacted one of my associates, Zet Reav , the Arkanian-Mandalorian mercenary and health-service mogul. Faso's betrayal has left me low on liquid credits, and while Zet is a relatively expensive hire, I want to make sure that this is going to be a lethal strike force to compensate for the number. The Hutts are still in shambles after the bomb, so two should do it. Two have to do.
​

"Send him in"
​

 

[Zet Reav]

Kallirróē Vrenth | Darth Yuthura​

Spoiler: Equipment

Beskar'gam armor
ERS (Emergency Revival System) (Under the armor)
Scout Jetpack
02 Blaster Pistols (Westar-34)
Blaster Rifle (On back)
01 Vibro-dagger
Vambraces

Belt:
Rations
Red Drops vial
01 Vital Suppressor
Defibrillator knuckles
01 Energy Bola
Grenades (2 of each):
Sonic
Flash
Smoke

---

Zetham Reav really hates how desperate he is for jobs. It's not even about the credits, his own business is doing very well and the profit is slow but steadily going up by the day. His own mobile laboratory is a dream coming true, where science can be done without the burden of ethics or smaller minds concerned about what they know very little and hold no interest to discover. No, his despair comes from pure and simple boredom.

He was not made to sit on a desk and run a company. He can do it from a distance and pay periodic visits while a trusted name handles the day-to-day operations. He loves working in a laboratory, but he loves fieldwork even more. So when a familiar name proposed a job he did not even try to negotiate a better payment. He just said yes, agreed that Faso deserved a good beating, and got on to prepare himself for the job.

He really should have asked for more. Hoth by itself is a 'demand a bonus'-type of planet. He's being paid very well, but that should be more.

At least this is an easy job. Easy for him, that is, who was trained as a scout and a field medic. The front lines need medics more than most, and he was good at charging quickly through enemy lines. He checks the information on the lenses of his helmet, reading the HUD in silence. A large, white cape covers his body to hide him from visual inspections and to keep him warm. Hoth is not a good planet to live. To work, yes, but to live? Never. His ship is several steps behind him, closed and sealed so the hell-ish cold will not get inside any more than it needs to.

He pauses to eye the structure, giving it a quick scan through the several sensors in his helmet. He uses technology and his brain to match the experience of the much older Mandalorians. It's rare to see one THAT ancient, but those who get that far are the closest thing to gods the galaxy will ever see. He hopes to get that far. All he needs to do is survive and make enough of a profit to have a fat retirement plan and buy a nice house somewhere, maybe surrounded by several prizes earned from his research.

That last part is almost impossible, given he never really graduated from an official university. Still, one can dream.

Zet doesn't wait very long to be sent in. Even inside the base he still shivers. His armor can only heat him so much, and that gives him ideas. Maybe a super-effective body tight suit like a Gravity-suit but for temperature control? Hmm, ideas, ideas. Must store that for later. Focus on the mission. And right now the mission is go in, look professional with all of his gear on sight -well, maybe not all some fun tricks are in the ship- and talk details.

"... You need better heaters."

That IS a very important detail, yes.

 

[Darth Yuthura]

Anij​

I stood under the faucet as warm water poured over me. While I was perhaps clean enough I spent considerably more time bathing than any of my sisters. Beings Faso's favorite, I got certain privileges that even paid servants didn't enjoy. Still for what I gave to him in return my life was a terrible existence. Truth be told my life never really was mine to begin with... if I hadn't been so selfish maybe my siblings could have had a chance.

After drying myself off I ventured back into my living space, which doubled as my bedroom, and collected the pieces of my costume from last night. Each time I wore a costume I'd put the full assembly into a box that would go to be serviced and cleaned. While this one hadn't been tainted with body fluids I still refused to wear the same costume two days in a row. The third major component of my chamber was a private changing room where my costumes were stored and where I applied my makeup each morning.

Another of the freedoms I got for my years of service was that I got to select my costumes, so long as they adequately accentuated features and conformed with traditional slave attire. I liked my costumes partly because they stimulated and excited those around me, which in turn I could enjoy. Being a Zeltron had its benefits and one of those was in my ability to feel other's emotions.

Today was special in that it was my anniversary of entering into Faso's service… at least in accordance with Anoat's shorter years. According to standard galactic time, measured by Coruscant's orbit, I had been enslaved for nearly four decades. As such I selected my first costume, which was presently lined in purple silk. Even with my photographic memory I had no idea how many iterations it went through over its 40 year life. Its design was also unique for a slave bikini in that it didn't allow for the inclusion of a collar, which was one of the conditions Faso demanded of me. He said that I was to serve him willingly and as such I were to obey him without question.

Even after 51 (Anoat) years it still fit me as it did the first time I wore it. The humiliation had all but run its course… I could literally walk around the palace naked without feeling a thing. Now it was just routine and I was needed in the Throne Room. Master Faso liked celebrating my anniversaries and he spared no expenses this year.

(Anij will not be in any explicit scenes, this is as close as I'll go in describing her role as a slave. She's presently oblivious to your OC's plan and I hope you'll drop hints that would allow her to counter the plan. Faso's death I'm thinking something more along the lines of Jabba and Leia. Still I'm following your leads and want only that Anij be freed before the end)

 

[Darth Yuthura]

Faso
​

Anij was without a doubt my most prized possession and one that I was proud to have displayed upon my throne. When I had captured and enslaved her she was known by a different name and held a proud title that no one could ever know. However just as she was born to the name of Fanchon, some unremarkable, poor girl living in a slum... she became a champion of the Sleheyron Games and inspiration of that backwater planet. It was in fact for that reason that my focus went from retaking a world I didn't want towards the one organizing the resistance.

I had no problem admitting that I traded an entire world for just one slave, but she was worth it. Fanchon was in fact so desperate to avoid being captured that she plunged a knife into her chest as my strike team were about to capture her... only she didn't die. Life clung to her like a disease, and it was then that I made the offer that would change both our lives for the better. I allowed for Fanchon to die with honor and solidify Sleheyron's independence if she agreed to become my personal slave. The only alternative was to destroy the opposition with an orbital bombardment, which was the only sensible thing to do in light of a slave revolt.

Since then she's given everything of herself to support my operations. Even in light of not being allowed to brag about having the Lady of Flame in chains, her many talents have yielded more wealth and power than I could possibly have plundered from that volcanic cesspool she called home. Today marked her 51st anniversary and I quite enjoyed spoiling her once in a while. As she entered the throne room, everyone paid their respects as she approached my throne. I smiled and unleashed a much younger togruta girl. "Return to the harem. There's a client waiting for you."

Anij
​

I tried to be protective towards my harem sisters, but I could only do so much. Rheena right there was directed towards one of Master Faso's business partners... a sociopath. I had confronted him about it yesterday and made it abundantly clear that I would murder him if he 'went too far.' As Rheena walked passed me, I could see the fear in her eyes. Just because a client couldn't directly harm a slave didn't make her existence any more pleasant. Still my sisters provided Faso handsomely for their keep and they deserved some small measure of happiness and security.

I smiled at her as we traded places, trying to keep her courage up, but the terrible sensation in her gut... it was the price we paid to survive this horrible existence.

(I'll let you both decide how Faso will deal with his cargo ship. Anij will follow through accordingly)

 

[Kallirróē Vrenth]

OUTFIT: x
TAG: Darth Yuthura | Zet Reav

OUTPOST #3, HOTH, ANOAT SECTOR, OUTER RIM TERRITORIES
​

"... You need better heaters."

That IS a very important detail, yes.

"Maybe you should sell me a better one."​

Heating system is the least of my concerns, especially in this outpost. This region of the Outer Rim is not my favorite spot to get a job, so I don't visit often. The Sith are not rational actors and The League have their complex bureaucracy and often underpays. The Tingel Arm and The Hutt Space are better regions to operate in. More money, less hassle. I let Zet settle in the room before sending the detailed mission log to his holo.

"These are the details."​

I tried to study Zet's body language. This mission must be an easy one for him. He's a Mandalorian and an Arkanian, brilliance is tattooed in these folks' DNA from conception. Striking a demoralized minor Hutt cell is child's play. We just need to strike fast, hard, and clean. The last thing I need is for a cousin Hutt to bump their head in and put bounties on me.

"We'll take off at dawn. There's speeders prepared for us at the landing strip. We take the north, come in from the canyon, catch them by surprise. Take everything possible, I'm projecting a 60 hours loss."​

We still have five hours from our supposed departure. Some mercs I worked with like to get a short sleeper before a mission, cooling of the nerves and resetting their focus. Others seem to not be able to even close their eyes, heart pacing and adrenaline pumping. I lean towards the latter, so he can take the bed for all I care. Alternatively, we can always talk. There's nothing lonelier than the frozen wind of Hoth, after all.
​

"Get some rest if you want to. I'll be down in the weaponry, just buzz in if you need anything."​

 

[Zet Reav]

Kallirróē Vrenth | Darth Yuthura​

Spoiler: Equipment

Beskar'gam armor
ERS (Emergency Revival System) (Under the armor)
Scout Jetpack
02 Blaster Pistols (Westar-34)
Blaster Rifle (On back)
01 Vibro-dagger
Vambraces

Belt:
Rations
Red Drops vial
01 Vital Suppressor
Defibrillator knuckles
01 Energy Bola
Grenades (2 of each):
Sonic
Flash
Smoke

---

He knows that was a jest, but the idea of actually selling heaters crosses his mind. Several planets need heaters for their population to settle and to spread. Ships need temperature control. Even some advanced pieces of armor can have their own internal regulators. Maybe, just maybe, there's reason for him to plot something after this mission. There'll be plenty of time after.

Focus. He sits down and studies the mission log shown in his helmet. The helmet stays on, not to hide his identity but to protect his eyes given his Arkanian nature and a healthy level of paranoia when on the job. And for the extra heating it provides. His face is fairly well known already, and there's a photo of him on his company's holo-ads. As a legitimate business owner he needs to avoid certain jobs, but he refuses to throw his youth away behind an office job. Zetham needs action, excitement, profit and more profit. Also, more excitement.

Thus, this job. He keeps quiet and listens to the briefing, managing to listen, read the missions log and think about possible outcomes at the same time. Not every client has good ideas. Or even ideas viable given current levels of technology in the galaxy. But Kallirróē seems to have a good mind and it all seems to check out. It is a very good day when the planning is solid enough it sounds like just might work flawlessly. Might. "I'm fine, I don't need to sleep." His body has adapted to taking several short naps in a day given his long periods of time in space, and visiting several worlds. The trip there was one wonderfully long nap.

Zet reads the logs a few more times when he is alone, checking for details and ideas. Only when he is satisfied with his level of understanding, he stands up and heads to the armory.

He looks at the weapons first, and then the woman. Zet seems calm and coldly professional, as always. He knows he is not some old veteran, but he has enough experience to know how to keep his nerves under control. It helps that his clan used to do raids in space to board ships, and planetary action was seen as 'easy'. Relatively speaking, of course. When they get closer to the action, that's when his body will start feeling nervous and the adrenaline will kick in. But until then? He is fully logic over emotions.

"I see the plan is like a good raid. Fly in quick, take everything and leave." He glances at the weapons again, with a casual curiosity over tools of war. He could have buzzed her and spoken over the comms, but he likes to take glances at the weaponry of his allies and clients, when possible. It helps him build an idea of how professional and skilled they are as a whole. "If it comes to it, we can bring some girls from the harem with us as shields. Some of them will surely be happy to be taken away, it's only a matter of picking the ones your Hutt will not shoot at." He gives one last look at the logs. "Do you know how many soldiers and how many girls will be there?"

 

[Darth Yuthura]

Anij
​

Very much like Jabba the Hutt's palace on Tatooine Anoat was an ideal place for a crime lord to hide. The entire world was urbanized and yet very few locations were habitable, making it very difficult to identify signs of continued activity. For a class 3.8 world with only ~45% ocean area its was sparsely populated with an estimated one million beings... most of those concentrated in the capital of Anoat City. Following extreme mining and heavy weapons manufacturing, the entire world was polluted and most habitable spaces were artificially maintained.

Faso's 'palace' was really an underground facility built under the ruins of an old and decayed settlement. While there were routine security checkpoints at the surface entry points, Faso normally kept a minimal garrison of guards. These however were more for keeping order within the palace than for fending off an invasion from an exterior threat. Whereas most Hutts sought to portray their wealth and power by accruing as many worlds or souls as possible, Faso elected for quality over quantity. His personal harem consisted of only six slave girls, all of whom were important in their former lives... or so I've told him. Unlike other Hutts he treated his harem very well, more like people than pets or property. Of course that didn't change that they were unwilling participants. A well treated pleasure slave was still a slave.

What Faso didn't know was that most of his accomplishments over these last forty years was attributed to my leadership. I was unofficially his second in command, as I elevated his image on behalf of other Hutts. When he was assigned to manage Sleheyron it was more as a punishment for his lackluster history before the Hutt council. He barely met their minimal expectations, otherwise they'd have killed him off long ago. Just about the only thing he ever did right in his life was to see me as being more valuable to him than a world that the Hutts didn't want in the first place. One of the conditions of my enslavement and the liberation of Sleheyron was that I needed to direct events in order to make it appear as though he withdrew from the world graciously. Thanks in no small part to my intervention, Faso was able to convince the Council that Sleheyron could no longer be controlled and to assign him a slightly more favorable world. Thus he got Anoat.

In reality Faso was not in control as he so hoped. In prizing my advice and earning his trust, I've slowly built up my own segment within his criminal empire. At first it was intended so that I might one day be able to break away, but over time I've come to value the power associated with being an indirect puppet master to even a minor Hutt. Recently however Faso had begun to trust me so greatly that he stopped overlooking my work and was simply content to allow me to conduct virtually all his criminal activities. This may have been overstating it, but so long as I didn't do anything glaringly obvious...

(I'm still not entirely certain how this takeover will happen. I'm thinking that Anij will suspect your OC's of being infiltrators, but will allow them through just to see what they have in mind. I'm okay if you engage Anij directly and help to make your plan run its course. Anij won't directly go after Faso, but she would allow herself to be taken hostage if that helps your plan move forward.)

 

[Kallirróē Vrenth]

OUTFIT: x
TAG: Darth Yuthura | Zet Reav

OUTPOST #3, HOTH, ANOAT SECTOR, OUTER RIM TERRITORIES
​

It is a very good day when the planning is solid enough it sounds like just might work flawlessly. Might. "I'm fine, I don't need to sleep."

​

I hummed at his answer. It seems like I'm hiring the right guy and that reassures me enough for now. As for the equipment, I have everything I need. Disposable sniper rifle to pick out the two guards, or more, from the canyon. Scout jetpack to descend to the entrance platform. Ranges of grenades, from thermal to EMP to flashbang. Blaster pistol, not my weapon of choice, but effective enough. Stun gun, for the girls and two vibroblades, I like to be up-close and nasty.

For protection, I decided to opt in for a Jung-Ju fiber bodysuit. Not as tough as Zet's beskar armor, for sure, but I'd rather wear something I can maneuver well in, as well as let my skin breathe in the hot, polluted planet. Not that I have a beskar armor or anything, although I'd love to get my hand in one in the near future. After putting on the bodysuit and some times, I heard Zet's steps descending to the armory.​

"If it comes to it, we can bring some girls from the harem with us as shields. Some of them will surely be happy to be taken away, it's only a matter of picking the ones your Hutt will not shoot at." He gives one last look at the logs. "Do you know how many soldiers and how many girls will be there?"

"Official soldiers, somewhere between 13 - 15. The explosion has crippled his manpower, literally. Six girls, most of them are armed and dangerous. I don't know who's who. I'd rather not kill them, but if you suspect anything, better safe than sorry."​

I have a hunch that the girls are going to be trouble. One, they are Faso's assets, but they can't be ours. They're going to be a refugee or something like that, deadweight for us, but also, liable witnesses. Truth be told, I'd rather scorch them all inside the palace, but I suspect Zet wouldn't like it and it won't do any justice to my reputation.
​

"I have some contacts, more sophisticated crime lords, Imperial warlords. If we rescue some of the girls, I'd rather have them headed that way, or to the Enclave, hell, hire some of them if you like. I don't want the Alliance, the League, or worse, the Sith, sniffing on my trails. Got enough trouble in my hands"​

Working around the galaxy as an ex-Imperial while retaining Imperial aspirations is not an easy task. People are generally suspicious towards you. The closer to the Core Worlds, the more distrustful they become. Other ex-Imperials are ambitious, they see you as a threat. The SIA and ORION are out to blackmail and operation papercliped you. The Sith and Maw remnants want you dead. Living witnesses are just going to make this easier for them.

As time gets closer to our boarding schedule, I decided that it'll be better if we spare some time to check everything in the hangar and fly out at 00. I can see that Zet is calm and collected, with a little hint of excitement on his face. This is it, then, we shall prepare to go.
​

"Shall we?"​

I pointed my head to the entrance gate, indicating the hangar. It's a job of necessity, but I can't help but think, if everything's going perfectly, how much are we going to take? If my estimation is correct, it's 50 times what I've lost dealing with the slimy lizard, not including the girls. More than enough to buy my way into the Family. Legitimize the network, spread the web of alliance. Game on, time to bath the lizard in salt brine and scorch the palace.​

 

[Zet Reav]

Kallirróē Vrenth | Darth Yuthura​

Spoiler: Equipment

Beskar'gam armor
ERS (Emergency Revival System) (Under the armor)
Scout Jetpack
02 Blaster Pistols (Westar-34)
Blaster Rifle (On back)
01 Vibro-dagger
Vambraces

Belt:
Rations
Red Drops vial
01 Vital Suppressor
Defibrillator knuckles
01 Energy Bola
Grenades (2 of each):
Sonic
Flash
Smoke

---

"13 to 15. Then let's say 15. And 6 girls." Zet takes nothing from the armory. He has his own gear, and it is adequate for their mission, but he examines the weapons with curiosity. He feels almost at home. Some people like libraries, others like engines, and some like to sprawl on a couch. Zetram Reav likes laboratories and war-rooms. A combination of War-room-Laboratory is probably his version of Heaven, if he ever cared about it as a concept.

But, back to the matters of the physical realm: the mission. He can help her take 15 enemies out, as long as it is not 15 all at once. Stealth will be essential. So will time. And some healthy chunks of luck.

He wonders if the girls will be trouble. Six slave girls are not a big number, but that's just enough to cause trouble and risk everything.

He regrets not paying enough attention to Hutt politics and gossip. His mercenary days are most certainly not over, but his own business takes most of his focus. On one hand, that might have prevented such a blind run into a so called 'Palace'. But on the other hand, he is fairly sure not even the Hutts keep up with all of their cousin's schemes and gossip. "If you hide your face we can tell them someone else hired us, and that should give you some peace. Pick someone to be our escape goat, If we let some guards escape they will spread the word for us. Or the slave girls, if we take some of them with us." He has no need for the slaves himself. Unless they have some interesting genetic templates to be researched, or some sort of massive profit from one of them.

Which is so unlikely he doesn't even consider it. If they are not good shields or bargaining chips, then it is best to just send them somewhere. It will get the attention away from Zet and Kalli for a while, maybe forever. One can hope. The trick is to pick an escape goat believable enough.

Before the time to depart Zet checks his own gear. Silent options, check. Loud options, check. Food, check. He's not a walking tank like most Mandalorians, but he is geared enough to be one mean scout. Mobility and silence with some loud options, rather than loud options with some silent options.

"Shall we?"​

He gives a not and follows her to the hangar. "Very well. When we get there let me go first." He can move quietly if he is alone and hopefully take out a few enemies before they are noticed. Then, who knows. But there are good chances things will work out well enough to make Kallirróē filthy rich, Zet satisfied with this healthy dose of violence one Hutt unhappy. The last one is always a fun thing to see.

 

[Darth Yuthura]

Anij
​

I hadn't lived this long by being complacent with 'good enough.' And while it was folly to seek perfection, so too was being satisfied with imperfections. The major problem however with being consistently thorough with even the most tedious security procedures was that it was stressful to assume every shipment carried bombs or assassins. So towards that end I often delegated security to personnel more tolerant to following checklists and other routine tasks that would become boring after a while. I was very particular in those that I handed our safety to and absolutely didn't tolerate laziness on their part.

Because I was an empath they knew I would challenge them and could sense whether they followed procedure or not. And I've had to fire very smart and talented people because they didn't adhere to their checklists while having to hold some that consistently made mistakes. The former were fundamentally flawed while the latter at least tried, thus why I held onto guards that others would have dismissed. This might have been a personality flaw on my part, but it paid huge dividends when you could trust your people not to leave any openings for enemies to exploit.

At first this transport appeared to be a monthly resupply vessel, but there were a few critical details in their cargo manifest that were inconsistent with our latest wish list. Typically there was always something wrong with it as part of the dynamic nature of our procedures that outsiders would just assume this was part of a flawed system, but it had a purpose. In these 'flaws' was actually a failsafe designed to trigger suspicion on our part. This transport's cargo manifest was perfect.

So in expecting something this ship, I ordered the guards to be on alert while I confronted the pair which left the ship. Normally slaves didn't handle jobs such as this and I wanted to see how they would react to being confronted by a scantily-clad slave girl and read their emotions. If they were just doing their jobs, this would invoke an uncomfortable moment and little more. If their plans were more devious... I'd see what happens from there.

"Welcome to Great Faso's palace. I'll be inspecting your ship's cargo before the unloading. There appears to be a few indiscrepancies with the manifest."

(Sorry for long delay. I've been dealing with a new job and it's been crushing my creative spirit. Will try and be more prompt next time.)