Red Raven Rhapsody

[Geneviève Lasedri]

Apparently someone had gotten ahold of some Holonet towers.​

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Broadcast throughout the eastern hemisphere and southwestern quadrant of the galactic disc, a mysterious signal could be heard intermittently over the course of two standard days.​

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https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uha3afJAtmA​

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A spoken message was evident, though it was distorted and presented in a strange language accompanying a numbers code.​

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Номера говорут​

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Слушатъ​

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Номера говорут​

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Слушатъ​

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18 5 4 18 1 22 5 14​

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18 5 4 2 21 14 14 25​

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21 14 4 5 18 7 18 15 21 14 4​

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13 9 3 18 15 / 1 19 20 18 15 / 11 9 12 15 / 5 20 8 5 18 / 2 9​

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Всё​

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What could it mean?​

 

[Lysle of the Hydian Way]

Meanwhile. . .

2:30AM GALACTIC STANARD TIME /
MID RIM, HUTT SPACE, Y'TOUB SYSTEM, NAR SHADDAA

Boom!
The flechette launcher exploded with a ruptorous roar, unloading its impressive payload at a single Twi'lek. Hundreds of razor sharp flechettes sprayed the infochant, too many to dodge. Lysle didn't have to have precision to kill him. All he had to do was fill every square centimeter of air with lethal projectiles. The Twi'lek was easy pickings from the moment he entered Lysle's apartment. Lysle had been quick to pick up the launcher from under his bed frame, take a shoulder against the bathroom door and fire. Ever since Lysle had been running the Ravens, hits had been sent out for his head, and while bounty hunters were eager to locate him - a hard job, even harder when he constantly moved about - but infochants were a nuisance. They were constantly seeping into his life, trying to dig up some information on him. He didn't have qualms with death, nor with disposing of a body, but damn did he hate the fact they kept coming. A waste of life.

He set the launcher down, and he looked a mess. The Lysle people once knew, handsome, well kept, dressed sharply in only the latest trends, was gone. In his place was a down-on-his-luck smuggler, wearing a navy blue gunner's jacket over a loose white t-shirt. His jeans were dirty from what appeared to be freighter fuel, with some thrown in grease for added measure. His boots were surprisingly fashionable, if not for that, anyone, even perhaps Cryax himself, could walk past Lysle and wouldn't recognise him - so long as they kept their eyes from his shoes, he was once more a walking ghost. A nameless face on the galactic scene, just the way he wanted it. Sure, it was all fun and games with the Red Ravens, and he grew into the role, but he could never stay in such a role. He loved Sigourney dearly, but that life just wasn't for him, he wasn't cut out for the leadership type. Now here he was, with a casino in his name, two businesses and royalties coming in like an overflowing dam, but he lived cheap. He liked it cheap, reminded him of Kesh.

He took a seat on his bed, wondering how in the Force's name he would clean up the mess when he heard a faint ting. He knew he turned off his notifications, except for Spook, the rascal was a good friend, but his talents ended there. Sure, he was a crackshot slicer, but he had never met the bloke. He was well and truly an isolationist, and what little information he knew on him, he lived deep underground below Nar Shaddaa, where no one can find him. Not much use to Lysle if he's as hidden as a mouse in a wall. Lysle flicked his wrist over and brought up his datapad, small enough it fit into his palm. He swiped left, and onto his messages.

"Hey, I'll keep it short.
There's a message
going across Raven
territory. Thought you
oughta know. I
deciphered it. I
thought maybe it was
morse code, but it's a
number code.

red raven


redbunny


underground


micro/astro/kilo/ether/bi

Also, nice shot.
Spook out."

"What the-," Lysle whispered so quietly no one would hear. He wasn't angry or furious, he was confused. He looked around his room and noticed his datapad sitting on a desk that was left on. No doubt Spook had a feed going through it and was watching him. Sure, maybe it was creepy, but at least someone was keeping an eye out for him. "Oi, what am I supposed to do with this?" Lysle asked at the computer screen, wondering if he would get an answer. Probably not. He couldn't fathom what the encrypted message was about, but he had sleep to catch up on, and a body to dispose. He tilted his head at the message, and thought he saw something. He peered closer, and read out the first letter of each word. Rrum. His mind ticked over, wondering, speculating, and words subconsciously drifted through his head as his brain worked to categorise the sequence of letters; Run.

 

[Blair]

The Star Strider's Dm Mantis Ship was currently parked on Antecedent at the port of the major city. It was a quiet day for once. Everyone of the members aboard were relaxin, either having a smoke or drink while playing cards or telling stories. Those that weren't present were in town doing whatever they needed. For all of them it was a nice change of pace for once. Not having to go about stealing or killing or showing muscle while trying to help enforce the Red Raven territory.

In her cabin Deborah Waller, the leader of the gang, was busy with a private work out. She was doing chin-ups with only one arm, the other one currently detacthed from the rest of her. Deborah's cyber arm was sitting on a table nearby while the slot where it would attach to her body was currenly vacant. She only had a tanktop and sweas on while she pushed herself, trying to get at least fifteen chin ups in. It was tought but she'd been at it for a few weeks. It was something she needed to do to try and make both arms strong.

During all of their relaxing a sudden unstable message came over the comms of the ship. Everyone dropped what they were doing when they heard it. Deborah dropped and looked around, not understanding what it was. Quickly she took her cyber arm and reattached it before making her way to the cockpit. Her pilot and tech man, an aquilish, was already trying to clean the message up by the time she arrived.

"What the hell's going on?" she asked as other Strider members began to arrive. The aquilish said something in his native tounge before she said "Where's it coming from?" He spoke again before she saying "Try cleaning it up. See what it says."

Eventually it was translated into "red raven

, redbunny,

 underground,

 micro/astro/kilo/ether/bi". It didn't make much sense, not to anyone. Deborah just glared at the texts on the screen, wondering what the hell it meant and wheather or not it was worth going off to find.

[member="Geneviève Lasedri"] [member="Lysle of the Hydian Way"]

 

[Lysle of the Hydian Way]

2:34AM GALACTIC STANARD TIME /
MID RIM, HUTT SPACE, Y'TOUB SYSTEM, NAR SHADDAA​

Lysle kept giving his datapad a wary glance, as if unsure some demon would pop out of the screen. It was troubling Spook was that adept he could wire into even local networks, but he dismissed the thought with a quick flick of his mind. His eyes turned downward at the text message he had received, and if it was true, or either a major coincidence that each letter of the first words resembled Run, then surely the others could mean something else. He looked at the first letter of each word on the last paragraph and read Makeb. Surely it wasn't a coincidence, and with hardly a thought, Lysle stood up, retrieved what little personal belongings he had, stuffed a blaster pistol down his pants, and walked out the door. His name already had a hit on him, further, he had warrants for his arrest. One more death under his belt wouldn't mean much on a planet like this. Not when you were wanted for invading a planet, multiple accounts of man-slaughter, fraud and smuggling. He was already going to get life in prison, or the execution block. With that last thought, he moved down the hallway early in the morning, with the goal of finding the space dock and getting to Makeb as fast as possible, and to warn his Ravens.

 

[Armand Temi]

Dak was sitting on a bench in the locker room of an Antecedent sparring studio, toweling off the sweat from her self-defense class. Ever since she joined the Ravens she felt more threatened on the regular. In her Zeltron hometown, she only had to fend off party-boy, ryll-biter advances. But with the Ravens her workplaces hazards now included interrogation, torture or assassination. The group's enemies were numerous.

She crossed her legs and activated her datapad to play a game of Death Star Diner Dash but was distracted by the chatter coming across the network concerning a strange message directed the Ravens. She didn't contact Cryax Bane directly - she could be dumb sometimes but not that dumb and some kind of infochant could have put a tracer on her comms for all she knew. Instead she typed a message to [member="Deborah Waller"], a Red Raven/Star Strider who she had recently met.

i saw the message let me know if u need any help

Dak pressed send and went back to her game. Maybe this time she would beat her high score.

[member="Deborah Waller"]
[member="Lysle of the Hydian Way"]

 

[Cryax Bane]

Cryax Bane's head felt like a iron Bolo ball. When he awoke at nearly three in the afternoon, he found himself sprawled out on the couch in his office, still in his rumpled clothes, with a pounding headache and a g-string wrapped around his neck like an ascot. The night before was a complete and utter blur. The Chiss crime boss had spent the evening entertaining a new business partner, Gaajo the Hutt, at Club Lush, and he must have overdone it with all the champagne, spice, and the Maker knew what else. On top of feeling like a Bantha puke, there were a half dozen scantily clad alien dancers huddled together sleeping on the floor of his office, and a tramp stamp on his lower back. Bleh. What a shameful mess he was.

When the Holocall rang out it woke the sleeping dancers, and Cryax shooed them out of his office without much fanfare. The caller was a slicer named Acid, an acne-plagued, stringy Twi'lek. "Boss, someone's playin' around in the Holotowers, broadcasting a message on the streets of Antecedent." she said. "There's something called the outside, you might want to look into it." Then the message flicked off. Kark. Soon thereafter, his Datapad pinged. What now? He checked his messages and was stunned when he saw a short and sweet message from none other than his former boss Lysle Rigger. Hide nor hair of the man had been seen since their treaty talks with the One Sith. As far as Cryax knew, the man was out in the Fringe doing business only he knew about. Lysle had never been a man of many words. So true to form, there was simply one word in the message that flashed up on the Chiss's Datapad. "Makeb."

If it had been anyone else, the Chiss might have shrugged and waited until he had more details, but given the nature of the man who had sent him the message, the President of the Red Ravens Criminal Syndicate began arranging for his Galaxy One luxury transport to take he and his security forces to the rich mining planet of Makeb.

[member="Dakita Calfur"] [member="Lysle of the Hydian Way"] [member="Deborah Waller"] [member="Geneviève Lasedri"] [member="Logan of Little Coruscant"]