Rusty's Custom Firearms and Cutlery

[Ultimatum]

Well, this was definitely not the place he would normally find himself in. It was quite an interesting neighborhood. He found the store to be attracting all the wrong kind of people, well mostly. There were a few people that he noted that seemed to be more or less friendly looking, a young woman. The people weren't as interesting as the building. It seemed similar to a reinforced bunker, but it wasn't built to hold stuff out. The structural read out was intriguing.

He, however, was not here to look at information on the building, or look at people going in. He had come because of a recommendation from a smuggler Ultimatum had caught on Mustafar. The man had been allowed to leave with a promise to never run weapons off or onto Mustafar and to share information on a new bu supposedly good weapon smith. That was why he was here, to see about some new weaponry that might be more professional than his own silenced sniper and pistol.

He walked towards the door, stepping lightly over the dead bodies. If he had been an organic, he might have lost his lunch then. But as it was, he was a droid who simply walked over to the door and opened it before slipping inside. He quietly stood back until he was called forward, not certain how to work with this man.

[member="Rusty"]

 

[Rusty]

Oh goodie, a droid. They always wanted good stuff. Rusty doubted he had anything on the shelves that would work. There was a tactical nuke in the backroom, and he had a few kilos of baradium tucked away in a safehouse. Still, better not to get his hopes up. The Shard had been disappointed before.

<<Howdy,>> he said in droid binary. <<What can I do for you today?>>

[member="Ultimatum"]

 

[Ultimatum]

Droid binary. He hadn't had to work with that language ever. It wasn't a problem, he was fluent in most languages, even the less sophisticated CBell-1. It was just he had to bring up the information so that he could actually use it properly. He replied, "Hello. I'm looking for some high-grade explosives." He smiled as he said it, he could have put that so many different ways. He believed that he would need to get better weaponry and had decide to come here. He knew that there were many things to be concerned with, one of which was the rival that was quickly proving how much of a nuisance he could be.

[member="Rusty"]

 

[Rusty]

[member="Ultimatum"]

If Rusty could have smiled, he would have. Explosives were always fun. Granted, the trip out to the workshop in an abandoned quarry outside of town always sucked, but the local gendarmerie weren't terribly fond of folks working with that stuff within city limits. Outside city limits, no one much cared, so long as anything radioactive was tested under a shield. They weren't too keen on the idea of fallout.

"How big of a book are you wanting?" he asked, switching to Basic. "And How do you want to deliver it?"

 

[Ultimatum]

Ultimatum almost responded in Binary. It was amazing how quickly a mind fell into a pattern, he thought to himself as he replied in Basic, "The best possible that can be fit in the palm of my hand, or fired from a launcher." He had in mind a number of different things, but the first and foremost was a grenade. He believed that other weapons would be required, but he wanted to start relatively small and see if this guy was all the smuggler had said he was supposed to be. He wondered what other sorts of weapons this droid had made. Was he a very accomplished weapon smith? Or, was he a prodigy not yet fully discovered? Ultimatum hoped to see.

[member="Rusty"]

 

[Rusty]

[member="Ultimatum"]

"Best handheld bang for your buck is baradium. I can make stuff with a larger blast radius, or throws shrapnel, or a whole host of other things, but thermal detonators are less likely to bite the hand that throws. If you were interested in doing the same old thing in the same old way, I doubt you'd be here though."

Rusty played with a datapad for a minute, and pulled up a schematic for something that vaguely resembled a grenade meant to be fired from a launcher. It was the same general shape, what with the aerodynamic nose cone, cylindrical body and all that, but the observant eye would detect that it was a full five centimeters longer.

"I've been playing around with this idea for a few years. Never had a chance to build one, but since I'm already working with a blastsword, it seems like the time to try it out. Basically, it operates like a blastsword. When the nose cone hits a target, it crumples and the impact triggers a high intensity blaster bolt. Think something on the order of fifty high powered blaster bolts fired all at once, in direct contact with the target. If it right, I can probably fit a small armor piercing head in the front, standard self-forging copper slug. That'll precede the bolt by a few nanoseconds, opening up a hole so the blaster bolt can do maximum damage. Range will be a bit shorter than a typical launched grenade on account of the extra mass. It'll kick like a ticked off Dug, and it'll need to be fired out of a single shot launcher. The extra length will foul up a repeating launcher. Also, it won't come cheap, on account of the fact that each one will need a lot of custom parts. The payoff is that it'll burn through just about anything. Interested?"

 

[Ultimatum]

Ultimatum chewed on that for a moment. He played throught the situations in which he would use this specific grenade. It was a very specific kind, he wasn't complaining, he had other things to obtain as well. As he had thought before, this was merely a test, by which he could determine the abilities of this man. If they succeeded in producing this, well then the man may find a regular customer.

It was only a moment before he replied with a nod, "I think that will work. Is there anything I should supply you with in order to speed up the process?"

[member="Rusty"]

 

[Rusty]

[member="Ultimatum"]

It wasn't like Rusty was going to run out of tibanna gas any time this century. The main bottleneck would be machining the parts. It wasn't like he had a shortage of durasteel either, but his milling machine couldn't multitask. He could put the 3D printer to use, popping out polymer components, and using off the shelf components wherever possible would cut down on cost, but this was still going to take time.

"I think I've got everything I need to prototype. I'm not tooled up to make big lots. This first batch is going to be small and expensive. If you like it and are willing to invest, we might be able to work something out, but we'll clusterbomb that bridge when we get to it. Come back in a few days with a stack of credits and I'll have the first batch ready."

 

[Laguz Vald]

After having run a couple of small errands for a few esteemed members of the Techno Union — Force bless their credit chits — Laguz was ready for a short vacation away from the hubbub of TU space. A weekend getaway, if you will, that naturally had nothing to do with the unfortunate accidents that had taken place during xir visit on Roon.

An important name or two had come up during HNN obituary hour, citing a heart attack or a malfunctioning skycar as the cause of death that had taken their successful lives far too early. Still, such was the way of the Galaxy, and if their business rival suddenly saw a rise in their stock price, well… one might say that that, too, was the way of the Galaxy.

Laguz Vald was just one of those who liked to lend a helping hand. Make sure the way of the Galaxy was nice and smooth, with signposts and everything. One could jest that it led straight to Hell, which, you know, it did, and Laguz could attest that Hell wasn't half bad, in actuality.

A bit hot for xir tastes, though. Unlike Dressel, on that note, which was a perfectly moderate world in every shape and form. Despite its location on a well-traveled trading route, the planet was as unremarkable as they came, which is exactly why the mercenary had decided to drop by.

That, and a rumor.

A rumor which spoke of a jaded old guy in some destitute old hovel of a building, a guy that could appease even the most demanding of customers, for the right price. And there was no customer as demanding as the killer that could literally be anyone, anything, and still had to do xir job well and proper without dying in the process.

Which, you know, in xir line of work… well, live by the sword, die by the sword. Lightsaber. Same difference.

Laguz pushed open the blast doors of intimidating thickness without raising an eyebrow, and then her currently green eyes settled on the man in question. Hah. Jaded sounds about right.

"Fine work you do here, I hear," the redhead spoke easily and approached the counter while taking in the variety of weapons on display. Unless those were all elaborate props, the guy certainly knew what he was doing.

"How much do you charge?"

Business first, pleasure later.


[member="Rusty"]

 

[Rusty]

Smallish (everyone this side of a Wookiee was smallish to Rusty), humanoid, female, and completely unassuming, aside from the red hair. In his line of work, that usually meant dangerous as hell. Everyone expected the big brutes to tear things limb from limb, which is why they were almost never the most dangerous operators.

Of course, dangerous could mean fun. If his instincts were right, Rusty could be in for a treat.

"Depends on the piece. Everything on display is priced as marked. If you want to commission something, I charge for labor and materials. No markup unless it's a rush job and I have to bump someone else's project back."

[member="Laguz Vald"]

 

[Laguz Vald]

A low hum was all that the deceptively female figure gave in confirmation for the longest time. She couldn't help it; the weaponry surrounding her was nothing short of delectable, and her instincts positively screamed at her to take a few pieces out and test them. Testing was always so much fun.

Besides, the place looked like it could take it, and had, if the poorly covered char marks on the ceiling were any indication. While some customers may have been deterred by that, it only made Laguz even more curious to see what the man could come up with when faced with her unique physiology.

With a herculean effort, the shifter pried her eyes off a sweet sniper rifle in the back and focused her sharp gaze back on the nameless guy in front of her. Tall, broad shouldered, good with his hands. Not a bad combination at all, but; business first, then pleasure.

Why, oh why, was that so hard to remember?

"Commissions," she stated at length, approaching the counter to better assess the face under the hood. "How much time and credits for an armor that would be able to… adapt?"

For a moment, Laguz searched for an appropriate term for what would truly fit her. For obvious reasons, revealing the extent to her capabilities to a complete unknown such as the man in front of her was nothing short of a last resort, so some careful verbal maneuvering would be required.

Oh, well. That, too, was part of her job description.

"Great with tension and compression, able to withstand great deformations and still retain its defensive capabilities. I'm not looking for beskar, mind you, just something to sink a blaster bolt or two. The emphasis should definitely be on the elasticity."

She let out a huff as she leaned on the counter, eyes narrowing ever so slightly as she peered at the face hidden in the shadows. There was something entirely inhuman about those features, from the silver eyes to the acute angles making up his expression of cold indifference, but asking questions had long fallen out of habit with her. self-preservation instincts. You understand.

"Think you can do it?"

Another mystery unsolved to be added to the pile. A few more, and Laguz could go submit a planet made out of those to the Codex.


[member="Rusty"]

 

[Jsc]

[member="Rusty"]

Roberts entered the shop and tapped her faceplate with a sigh. Opening up the helm just so she could see and smell the place for herself. Mmm. New digs. It would have to do. She need a few new power cells for her disruptor carbine and it was surprisingly hard to get them inside of Republic space and around Denon. The unfortunate downside to having a primary weapon that is illegal in almost all of civilization.

The trooper woman moved to the counter and made her appeal once Laguz's business was almost finished,

"Looking for some power cells to match a modern DXR-8. Outside of Fondor, they are hard to find. Know anybody I can talk to?"

Roberts wore advanced phrik armor and had three lightsabers sheathed against the small of her back. Being a shard of some experience, [member="Rusty"] would no doubt immediately understand the wealth and magical presentation that stood before him. Karen having been a comrade of HK-36 back in Omega, she would understand a Shard when she saw one too. Even those of clever construction. So the feeling was mutual.

 

[Rusty]

[member="Laguz Vald"]

Highly elastic armor. If Rusty had a guess, probably a shapeshifter. Not a Clawdite, either. He wasn't terribly familiar with all the varieties out there, but he knew there were a few that could radically alter their form. They were great assassins, when they wanted to be. Spies too. Not particularly well liked; no one trusted someone that could look like anyone or anything. But, in the grand scheme of things, that wasn't his problem. It was an interesting challenge, and that was what he was worried about.

In a way, this whole shop was one giant prototyping effort. If he could make these pieces and make them work well, there was always a chance he could sell the rights to a major manufacturer. Shapeshifting wasn't common, but the sorts that needed armor tended to be well paid, and that meant there was a chance for profit in the long run. And no one played the long game like a Shard.

"I can probably do it. Figure somewhere between 32-64 man hours, 150 a man hour. I'll give you an invoice for the parts upon completion. If you don't like the finished product, you walk, no harm no foul. Sound good?"

[member="Karen Roberts"]

After getting the shapeshifter's reply, Rusty made his way to the next customer. Well and expensively armored, with lightsabers to boot. Either she was a Jedi who was good enough to warrant the expense that came with phrik, or she was a freelancer that could wield the Force. Could go either way, but he wasn't going to judge.

He had the power cells in question. Not many, on account of the fact that he didn't like working with Tenloss-based kit. It was great stuff, but he wanted to punch their guy in charge of ergonomics in the throat. What good was being able to turn a bantha into ash on the breeze if you couldn't do it with a degree of comfort?

On the other hand, you never knew when that sort of high capacity power cell might come in handy.

"I've got some on hand, though you'll have to give me a minute to fetch them from the back. How many do you need?"

 

[Laguz Vald]

Another hum, sounding even more pleased than the first. Scanning his face for anything revealing about his thought process as he stood behind that counter would have been utterly pointless, because by then Laguz had well and truly settled on the fact that the man wasn't actually a man, but rather something else entirely.

Whatever she'd have found after popping open the hood would remain a mystery for a while longer, however, because then the non-human finally came up with his offer, and the mercenary had to switch from pleasure back to business.

"Sounds good," she replied simply, though the smile pulling at her lips belied the neutrality of the statement. Laguz Vald was well and truly excited about the prospect of what the man could create for her, and though her excitement usually meant that bad things were bound to happen to people of any moral alignments and beliefs, the mercenary was unlikely to set off any explosive inside the shop despite her zeal.

"I'll leave you to it, then," the redhead added as she spied the next customer approaching them out of the corner of her eye, noting her garb and stance. While the woman could easily be just another gun — or lightsaber, rather — for hire, years of healthy paranoia had taught the shifter that it was better to be safe and bail as opposed to ending up face-down in a sewer pipe.


[member="Rusty"]

 

[Jsc]

[member="Rusty"]

Karen nodded and took no note of the other customers. It wasn't one of those days.

"Really? In stock and everything. Huh. Must be my lucky day. ...I'll, uh. I'll buy you out then. Or, if you've still got the crate, I'll just take that too."

Roberts was working again so money was no problem. Which was good. After the events of Netherworld her pocket book had gotten pretty tight there for a moment. She'd lost thousands of credits when Corellia broke and even more in the bitter months that followed. Oh yes. If it hadn't been for the Royal Academy signing her to that resettlement deal? Well. She'd probably be broke right now too. Funny how that can change in an instant around here. One moment your down, the next? Sky high.

It made her smirk. She might even starting buying that fancy coffee again too. Mm.

 

[Rusty]

[member="Karen Roberts"]

Rusty didn't read too much into the smirk. He wasn't what you'd call an expert on reading facial expressions anyway. He just assumed the customer was happy he had the power cells on hand.

The Shard made his way to the back room. It was a bit of a chore to figure out where exactly he had left them. His storage room was meticulously organized, but he didn't exactly had to come back for these cells very often. Disruptors were rare in these parts, despite the relative lawlessness of this part of Breehara. Just using one in a street fight was enough to earn a decade in the slammer, and if you got caught using one for anything worse, well, the courts had a steady supply of killtabs. Breehara could be a rough place.

A steady series of muted bleeps made their way to the front shop, but after a few minutes, Rusty returned with a dusty box with five cells.

"These are oldish, a few months at least, but still good. I went ahead and put them all on the tester back there and they came up green. Since they're not exactly fresh, help yourself. This box is on the house. I can order more if you're going to be in this part of the Rim for a while. It'll take a few weeks for them to start coming in, but I get a fresh shipment every week, and once they start coming in, they'll be included. Also, I've got some parts for a DXR-8 that'll make it less a pain in the [bleep] to use. Interested?"

 

[Jsc]

[member="Rusty"]

Karen seemed surprised the cells were being given for free. Mm. Must be hot. Meh. That was fine. She'd get them past customs easily. Hot goods or not.

"These are just for parts. I use custom cells and equipment myself. I just needed the right size energy towers to make for a clean swap out on the bench. ...And no. I won't be needing anymore, any time soon. I have a buyer on Fondor who supplies the Omega. He's good. But thanks. I appreciate the thought."

It was early. Rusty was just getting into the business. Karen had been running guns with guys like Noah Corek and Jorus Merrill for almost six years now. She had connections. But, it was nice to note that Rusty was joining that elite club of people who knew their gear. You'd be surprised how many gun runners think semi-auto blaster rifles were the key to a prosperous future in selling. Ugh. ...Amateurs.

Roberts touched one of the cells with two fingers and nodded. Yep. It was good. The two meter man wasn't lying. These would do.

"I'll take them. And I'll remember the shop. Good day."

If there was nothing else, she would look to take her leave. After all, Roberts couldn't read the minds or subtle gestures of sentient Shards through the Force. Something that the mischievous HK-36 had learned early in their career together. Having used that knowledge to bluff Karen many times. Something that didn't happen often. Those idle feelings held true for Rusty as well. Humans she could sense; Twi'leks, Cathar, even a Zeltron or two. But Shards? Nope. Not even her infamous space magic could sense Rusty's alignment. The old intelligence inside the metal man would remain a mystery.

And so would she.

 

[RC 212]

Varius Fenelstein: Shop owner of the Cafe across the street

So now there appeared a armored woman, and huge karking droid. Gosh rusty sure drew the most terrible folks from the void into his shop. Varius kept watching, wiping glass after glass. The bodies were still there, rats still there. There was a huge assortment of people crammed into this dainty little shop. The droid was funny because he was massive. The girl had some kind of space armor on.

Freaking loons the lot of em.

Varius checked the street in both directions. People walked right on by the bodies, and consequently his cafe, not wanting to bee seen in the presence of the dead.

"Kark."

Varius set the glass down and walked away, going to the back of the shop.

 

[Quenladose]

Her time had come, the several days worth of waiting then man hd asked for passed and the rainbow hired jedi knight was descending from the ramp of her ship with the aurodium ingots she could use for the sword. Assuming it was everything she had hoped for well she'd be able to use it nicely and surprise a few people. She was heading in to meet [member="Rusty"] as she stood there with hands clasped in front of herself bowing. "It is good to see things are going well."

 

[Rusty]

[member="Quenladose"]

Rusty returned the bow.

"Indeed they are," he replied. "Business is booming."

He knew what she was there for. Sometimes it was hard to tell organics apart, but that hair was pretty distinctive, no matter how you looked at it.

The Shard motioned for her to stay put for a moment while he headed to the back room. He returned with a tough duraplast case, about a meter long and maybe 20 centimeters thick. He set it on the counter and opened it for the customer.

The bone white blastsword sat on the foam padding inside, along with the plastoid scabbard and three extra pommels. A handy instruction booklet was also included, with instructions on how to arm, operate, and care for the weapon. Even in the dim light of the shop, the iridium accents on the scabbard and the iridium hand guard positively shimmered, matching the customer's rainbow hair.

"I trust this is satisfactory?"