Someone Who Knows Where You've Been

[Matsu Xiangu]

Bakura
Power Station
2000

The last time Matsu had been to Bakura she’d had two arms.

It had also been the first time she’d seen Jared Ovmar and struck a partnership that promised to last long after her apprenticeship. She felt a kinship with him she would be hard-pressed to explain in any articulate manner, but there was a bone-deep similarity, as if they’d been cut from similar cloth. Or at least she liked to think so. She’d made a promise to him to cut down whatever stood in his way and there was nothing that would stop her from fulfilling it.

It was strange to feel such simple devotion after the kind of betrayal she’d known.

But in most ways she was a different person than the girl who’d died on Skye. And it had been a death. Some nights she still woke up in a dread sweat, running her fingers along her temples and sweeping the panic from her brow as she tried to think of something besides the sound of her own wails as the silence of the snow around her made real her own mortality. Somewhere on that planet on the very edge of Fringe space, the girl Matsu had been died with a whimper uncharacteristic to the swath of destruction that had marked her short existence. In the middle there was limbo, the birth of someone else – and she saw it with such gravity, such immensity, because she hardly recognized who she had been anymore – as she crawled through. There had been lessons with Jared to keep her occupied, the dominions cast by the Fringe, she’d found her long-lost best friend out among the stars, and sometimes when everything was quiet she thought of a man, silver-haired and probably forever nameless to her that she’d run in to on Endor.

Since that meeting she’d settled in to something – though no less savage – more stable. She doubted the stranger would call her transformation exactly what he’d meant. The analogy of the river still eluded her, as instead of battling upstream she merely found something to moor herself in its current. But as the limbo passed over her and as the woman she was to become took control she thought she understood something of what he’d parted with. The Force was her weapon but…she listened to it too. It had become more than a tool.

But despite all her growth there was still something – or someone – that had claws deep in the flesh at the base of her spine. She needed closure and had begun to reaching her feelers out for ways to track Krius Syonis. That was the reason she found herself on top of a dormant volcano in a power station waiting for a faceless contact that promised results, and good ones. The setting seemed strangely fitting for the gravity of the subject she was chasing, sitting atop something that could blow at any moment with no warning and swallow everything in its path. The fact that she did not have any idea who or what to expect didn’t bother her much – her propensity and gravitation towards the strange and unsettling still hadn’t changed even with a rebirth.

The station wasn’t large and the arrangements had specified a small section of the building lesser used though still functioning, a reasonable enough place to explain away. She trailed slowly around the room as it trying to absorb knowledge of the way everything worked simply by watching it, dragging one metallic claw along the edges of the computers as she waited.

[member="Dashal Vance"]​

 

[Dashal Vance]

The Network. It spanned the gap -- the gap between society, culture, systems, and hyperlanes. Billions of invisible signals bounced, ricocheted, and otherwise connected two data points in a thread. The Galaxy at large was not as separate at is it seemed. Faction-less and consistent through every avenue, never veering, never steering -- always moving, the signal came and went. An interconnected web of networked data piped between worlds and star systems from one end to the other in a spectacular virtual tapestry that would make an Energy Spider jealous. From remote chatter through an antique commlink, to the advanced and highly secured holodex servers housed on central Core worlds, no one escaped the signal. Even this power station, that thrummed with the energy of it's twin reactor cores situated on each side of the bulky building resting just against the rocky ridge of a dormant volcano - it too was tied into the never-ending loop. The master of the marionette code had once again worked his deft digital digits into finding another in need of services rendered.

And now we join our lovable and hyper Hapan as the new client awaits.

"Die! Die!...die dead, die dead!" Exuberant sounds echoed from the catwalks and rafters above the taller than wide shaft that had been an annex to the western power core. Most of the equipment in here was just as dormant and inactive as the volcano that housed the building, and fortified it. A few larger servers still hummed the power being fed into them, and most were just in a power-save mode as they didn't need to be active. Routine maintenance was still something that was needed, and while the main part of each reactor was fully operational (providing power to the masses in the cities nearby) there were certain parts that were only used during emergency situations, and upgrades. This south-east quadrant was home to a only semi-lit shaft that was meant for storage and auxiliary power. A few stories above Matsu's ground floor location was a nest of catwalks and durasteel eye beams that cast shadows upon the few lighted fixtures around. The light itself was pale white, except for the tinge of holographic blue that painted an upper portion of the south-central wall. This is also where the voice seemed to ring out from.

Trooper Terror: The Hoth Edition. A hugely popular holocade entry had hit the market years ago, and every six to eight months, a new version of the highly acclaimed first person shooter hit the open market. The Hoth edition itself featured wildly fun Wampa hunts as a mix of snow-troopers and ghosts took the furry beasts out. Most of the troops were non identifiable due to fear of copyright infringement, and other legal matters. To keep the games at cost, the producers also managed to get away scott-free from royalty charges from factions like the Omega Protectorate even when using ghost protocol terms that had be specifically pulled from that organization. Dash had thought it was just an inside man that had been able to keep the name due to some kind of ambassadorship. Either that or they were sleeping with one of the current or former protectors. Often that had brought his mind back to the red-head, and his thoughts on what she could do with those legs.

"Wampa Stomping!" Dash cackled as he unlocked a new achievement playing from his perch on the holo-emitter he'd rigged to pipe into his virtual private server. The game ran beautifully, and while it wasn't home sweet home in his off-site bunker, it had all the hallmarks of a trait to pass the time. He hated waiting - it was boring! That however wouldn't be much of an issue anymore while he unloaded the charge of plasma right into the neck of another of the Hoth natives. A red light blinked in panic fashion, alerting him that he was no longer alone. Motion sensor tech - default and wholly useful kept him apprised of recent developments. "Be down in a flash, just gotta get to the next save point!" The youth called down over his shoulder, as his virtual bucket-head slid into an ice tunnel and passed through a checkpoint. Yeah, he had modded his character to be a Mandalorian - more specifically an arctic version of the Mandies. The next few moments were a blur of activity as the metal clinked and groaned giving tattle-tell rattles. The holographic feed and connection was killed and dissolved while the movements above cataloged in vague fashion the slicer's hyperactive leaps back and forth around the complex above. "They say never do this without proper supervision, but who has the time for that?" He asked in rhetoric while a few more shuffling sounds echoed from on high. In the next moment a figure began to break through the mirth of darkness and shadow rocketing - or actually falling straight down towards the hard durasteel floor.

"Woooooohooooooo!" An excited laughable sound radiated around the confines of the tall shaft as the slicer plummeted in a carefree fashion directly towards the ground. Seconds before he'd make a semi-permanent impression on the floor, and in his bones - a cable that had been attached to his feet snapped taut and his form bounced inches from the ground before snapping like a rubber band right back up only a meter or two. Immediately snatching out his hand and grasping the cable, Dash swung on a toe hold on the cable back and forth grinning ear to ear. "Now remember kids...don't try that at home because you likely don't have a thirty foot tall ceiling with industrial grade power cables lying around." A few moments later and he dismounted from the cable and stepped around it. The cord itself still lightly swung from it's anchor above. "Sorry about the delay, but the achievements don't save unless you do - and I'd look like a real nerf-herder if I didn't keep up the collection." The fast talking and casual tone of his speech came to a close as he lifted the night-goggles from his eyes and placed them snug against the crown of his spiked black hair.

Another girl? Around his age? With...was that a cybernetic arm? Life day had come early...oh thank the Force!

[member="Matsu Xiangu"] <3

 

[Matsu Xiangu]

​

“Die! Die!...die dead, die dead!” ​

It had only been a few moments, and Matsu could swear she wasn’t so bored that she was daydreaming about murdering Krius as she was wont to do while waiting for something. But then again, her daydreaming voice wasn’t usually male and she tilted her face up in the direction she thought she’d heard it coming from, the shadows created by the pale-white light above gathering in the hollows of her cheekbones and making her look less than human. She thought she spotted the faintest hint of blue in one corner of the light above her but it was hard to tell – though as she heard the voice again coming from about the same direction she was willing to assume it wasn’t just a trick of the building’s inherent structural strangeness.

Hmm, never human instinct to look up though it only made sense sometimes – she’d have to add that to her list of instincts to hone…like a game, a checklist.

“Be down in a flash, just gotta get to the next save point!”​

Matsu’s first instinct was to narrow her eyes, her face twisting in to a perfect expression of confusion as her eyes tracked slowly from left to right, trying to glimpse any sign of the body to go with the disembodied voice. Still no luck even though it sounded as if she were beneath the stage for a spirited rendition of some kind of tribal dancing as the voice went quiet for a few moments, accompanied only by the sounds of the impressive footwork and was that…a game? Faint sounds of reactionary music and sound effects that seemed highly out of place drifted down through the latticework of metal above her and she raised an eyebrow, leaning back against one of the consoles behind her and crossing her arms over her chest. A few moments waiting would give her time to check her sanity.

Not quite enough time though as a peal of excitement started descending through the catwalks, Matsu’s face crumbling in to something quiet, expressionless – almost dead. She had acquired a habit of looking somewhat vacant when thinking or preparing herself though it could not be confused with stupidity or a lack of anything between her ears. Rather, a recently instinctual mechanism to hide whatever her next move might be, her mask of an expression giving away nothing. Her eyes tracked downwards with the bungee-cord motion of the stranger though the rest of her didn’t budge an inch, blinking as he landed and warned her of the inherent danger of what he’d just performed. She was half-tempted to look left and right to catch a glimpse of the audience that seemed very clearly present in his mind for the performance but stopped herself. The moment was already strange enough.

Though as the slight shock of his entrance wore off a bit she couldn’t help but find a small smile tugging at the ends of her lips. He seemed preoccupied with her arm which she’d taken no pains to disguise. From the get-go it had never been a thing to be ashamed of – she liked its sleekness, the open-faced design of some of its elements, and the wicked claw-tips at the ends of her fingers. It felt monstrous, kin to the arm it replaced. And his gaze elsewhere gave her a chance to look him over. He wasn’t necessarily what she was expecting but that meant nothing to her really – a strange entrance and an attractive face were no indication of capability or lack thereof. She’d reached out and found ways to get word out to him because, frankly, she was absolute rubbish with the deeper concepts of the holonet men like this one dealt in with an ease that sometimes appeared to her as boredom though it had to be anything but. He had a reputation.

The smile widened slightly when he apologized, his words rapid-fire, snapping her out of her momentarily stunned state. “Alright with me, nerf-herder’s not a good look for anyone.” She tilted her head slightly, looking mildly reptilian. “You’re not what I expected,” she continued, her tone implying that wasn’t necessarily a bad thing. “But I’m hoping you can help me. I’m Matsu,” she supplied as she finished, lifting her left hand to push a strand of hair behind her ears, the hushed whirr of her arm crossing the air between them.

She didn’t particularly speed in to things, half because she had no idea where to begin or how things like this went, and half because she didn’t feel a rush.

[member="Dashal Vance"]​

 

[Dashal Vance]

Lips, hips, and metallic fingertips. The first two would often turn the slicer's head, but the third gave him that slight tremble in his knees, and shiver down his spine (in the good way). Her words lost for the moment, emptying out into some obscure space between them - as the nexus of his attention was jostled by the arm that slid locks of hair behind her ear. Primarily he worked with code, encryption, security protocols and pretty much anything that dealt with data; raw or refined. However, the Hapan was highly interested in tech in any form - and while Matsu's arm wasn't the most technological wonder he'd ever seen, the figure it was attached to however, made up for all the lack of bells and whistles. Dull teal eyes shifted with every stray motion of the metallic appendage, as he made no attempt to hide his apparent intrigue. His index finger struck out to point suggestively while the grin on his lips said she was making him a very happy Hapan, and would gain even greater favor if he could take a look up close and super personal. The suggestive head-nod towards the arm was offered, while he waited for a bob of agreement from her own face.

"Aww swiggles." Dash gave an amused grin as he shifted back and forth, slowly drawing his hands to lightly trace the alloy that formed this faux appendage. "Durasteel, and I'm guessing titanium composite? Servo-motor junction tied to the spinal cord and brain-stem. Nerve integration and synthesized ligament for movement. Mmm shiny." His digits picked and prodded at the metal, detailing the care and craft that the surgeons had put together. Even the fingertips were sharpened to a point, and given the full range of phalango-scopic control. "Got one heck of a can-opener there - enough to make an automatic melon baller go green with jealousy." Dash was vaguely aware he was breaking personal space boundaries like body contact was the cure for judgement day, but such was his nature when it came to new toys, and new highly attractive friends. Client! He reminded himself sharply and then took a measured step back each hand tugging on the subtle lapel to his tunic, and putting on his award winning face for a new job prospect.

"Status ain't quo, gotta shake things up - and leave expectations in that dark dingy sub-basement where they rightly belong." His arrogance was there and clearly apparent, but it was intermingled with the quick-witted slang of his infectious personality. The Hapan was a handsome young man with a winning smile and a charm that was akin to boyishly dashing. He often wondered if that's where his folks had gotten the name - but they couldn't know the future (unless it was force-sight by a prophetess who had foreseen his guileful ways.) Perhaps they'd end up together (the prophetess that is), it would certainly be a first. Rabbit trail! He shook his head a bit and then gave an an affirmative nod. "I control the vertical and the horizontal, and every angle and ray in between. Code whisperer of the sort." Dash amused himself with the titles he'd proclaimed upon himself. So far none of them had really caught on, but you couldn't blame a guy for trying. Seriously it's in the contract. "Vyce." One foot tucked behind the other as he gave a half bow at the waist; his right hand extended left against his abdomen.

The holonet had called, and Dash had answered. As per usual he wasn't giving out his name, and he'd made a practiced part of telling his aliases like they were nothing more than reality. He was normally an unexpected surprise to most of his clients. A boy so young, and so skilled enough to intercept or rather compile all the various jobs that he did. People talked...and he heard the chatter. He was quite aware of the praises that were sung in his fake names. As well, according to the plethora of women he'd infected with his charm, he popped sparkled and buzzed electric. The power plant they stood in was chosen for its proximity to his last location, and the chance to play in one of these facilities. It was a fairly self-sufficient facility, and he was always curious about new ways to make his tech less prone to problems that had to be solved by his skilled digits. An autonomous machine was his goal thus far, and it was a labor of love on his part. Though for the labor he needed payment, and this job promised coin, and not the bonus kind he got in Trooper Terror. Nope, real spendable credits. A measured four steps forward were taken before he did an about-face spin on the heel of his boot and planted his back up against one of the humming servers lining the wall.

"So unlike the Republic, I'm here to help. What's got that pretty little mind of yours all focused on playing the serious card?" Arms folded across his chest as his head leaned to the side, glancing over Matsu with a small grin formed on the thin lips of his visage. "Sabaac is more fun when plums are tall - believe me." He offered interjecting two games into one, and playing off the deck theme for the time being. Dash was always playing with a full one, but he didn't often come across as a straight to business kind of guy. He liked to beat around the bush..hell there was a moat around it. He'd have to send up smoke signals to the guard tower in order to let the bridge down before anyone could board that train direct to the source. Give a man a nerf steak, and you feed him for a day - teach a man how to hunt and cook his own, and you're given up profit for lousy charity. He'd not stand for it, he'd take the job - when he figured out what it actually was.

[member="Matsu Xiangu"]

 

[Matsu Xiangu]

[SIZE=12pt] “Spot-on,” she said, raising an eyebrow as he drew close and started inspecting her arm with the kind of care she hadn’t seen since the surgeons had watched her put it through its paces upon first waking up from her operation. She had accepted the new limb with the same unquestioning ease she took all things strange. And like he said – it was one hell of a can-opener. (And what was it that Master from the CIS used to call it, her toothpick holder?) She didn’t really know what it was that prevented her from reaching up with the same arm he was drooling over and shoving the pointed ends in to his eyes, but she didn’t. Considering the number of people she’d killed for trespasses far less deliberate it was almost a miracle – chalk it up to how swept up she was. Being around him was like downing fourteen cups of that foul excuse for coffee they had out in the field offices for the Fringe.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=12pt] Even if he hadn’t been charming, his obvious arrogance wouldn’t really have bothered her. The thing about the Force was that for every selfless do-gooder there were three overconfident jerks far more sure of themselves than they should have been. This ‘Vyce’ seemed to know exactly what he was doing – or at least had had enough success to make him believe he did – and until he proved otherwise Matsu was willing to forgive his in-your-face surety. And despite the fact that he wasn’t what she expected she didn’t think any less of him for it. Besides, he seemed around her age and look at all the things she’d seen and done.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=12pt] So what had her playing the serious card?[/SIZE]

[SIZE=12pt] Now, that was a good question. She wasn’t about to explain the situation to this stranger – and was that even his real name? – but he was to play a direct role in letting her put the serious card down. She had grown in leaps and bounds since Krius had left her for dead, since she’d been a vicious and uncontrollable slip of a girl. But it wouldn’t be over to her until he was dead, and for that she needed to know what he was doing. She wouldn’t leave it up to the ‘will of the Force’ for them to meet again – this she would take in to her own hands, crush him so she could forget him, and move on with her life.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=12pt] But regardless of the nature of their discussion she was smiling lightly at his fluid manner, leaning back on her respective length of disused terminals. “The man who made this necessary –” she answered, running her natural fingers over the durasteel, “I need to know what he’s been doing. We have a date in the future, though he doesn’t know it.” [/SIZE]

[SIZE=12pt] She had spent enough time with Krius over in those three months to be confident in the information she could give Vyce, that it would be enough to find and track him. And payment would not be an issue either. If he was as good as he claimed, as good as other claimed, she would give him as much as he required.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=12pt][member="Dashal Vance"][/SIZE]​

 

[Dashal Vance]

An equal-opportunity slicer; that's exactly what he delivered. Dash wasn't terribly picky about who he did business with; whether it was a Sith Knight looking for revenge, or a Corellian farmer needing stock reports a day in advance to capitalize on crop sales - he sliced for a price. That was one of the reasons he had never allied himself with a faction to any degree of notable concern, he needed to be able to handle and field all types of request -- like all purpose flour! Well maybe he wasn't the main ingredient in every recipe, but he was there - somewhere on the sidelines providing crucial intel, further securing sensitive data, or recovering information that people thought all but impossible to find or obtain. Another reason for his lack of allegiance was a stagnant and stalwart belief that information should be freely accessible to the public masses, and as a holo-hacktivist, if he kept secrets from the public eye - he'd be turning his back on some of the core beliefs he held. You didn't hold data hostage for money, for status, or for fear; at least not when he was involved. He'd been approached though, several times in fact, to work for the organizations that he single handedly had damaged or stolen from. It was certainly a good thing he was such a smooth-talking charmer, and quick on his feet.

Gloved hands slid suggestively against the cool metal at his back, feeling the angled slope of the machine, and caressing it like he was want to hear a purr of pleasure rather than the hum and whirl of fans and circuits radiating energy within the case. Digits flexed and pressed onto the solid surface as his booted feet rose off the ground, hooking both boots to a protrusion a foot from the base, and using it as a platform to crouch onto. From there it was a matter of launching himself up, up, and over in a backwards flip that landed his rear cushion directly atop the terminal with a loud and graceless thud. His mouth turned into a frown while he applied his palm his rear and gave his sore rump a casual rub from the less than poised landing. The kid was limber, and that wasn't only just out of necessity - apparently that strong suit played well with the ladies, as did his constant showing off. While some saw arrogance and show-boating, others were generally impressed to see the level of skill in something other than manipulating code. Whether or not Matsu was amused was still a reaction undecided. He'd pitched, and she was up to bat, now he just had to see if she'd swing for the fences, or bunt.

"Secret admirer." A sly grin slid over the Hapan's visage as he shifted to slide his legs into a lotus position, hands clasped to the boots on each feet. "Haven't set up a blind date in a while, but I'm suspecting you're not in the market for Ithorian roses or puffballs." Rocking back and forth lightly, his gaze from just a foot or two above Matsu reigned down with a dull teal gaze. "As well I can safely assume that a thank you card is ill-timed - more like a firm handshake among other things." A double rise of his brows in quick succession gave the suggested inuendo of crushing the spine of the man who dared spurn her. "They say that Mustafar's fire hath no fury like a lady scorned - and my council of mothers didn't raise no fool." Dash said referencing the community of females that had raised him on Hapes. For as much as he was a flirt, he knew well not to royally unfurl the wrath of a woman anywhere near his vicinity. He knew well what they could do, and that kind of tale of woe would make a Krayt dragon cringe. "Shouldn't be too hard - I'm an ace at Where's Watto."

On queue, Dash accessed his left tech vambrace, causing the strip of blue to brighten and emit a holographic screen, translucent enough for Matsu to see him through and vice-a-versa. Digits tapped upon the light screen, entering code into a database and bringing up a new file. He liked to get information down and work on it later, in private. All of his jobs were done without the client present - that way his methods were protected and he didn't have to hear nagging about his process. Though on certain occasions (like this one) the company was far better than being alone on a Primeday. Despite the ability to find a slicer in just about any part of the Galaxy, few and far between could compete with Dash. He knew it well enough because he shut them down on a regular basis on the holonet, like a favorite game of smashball. It also didn't hurt that he was a world of fun and frivolity, and rarely showed a super serious side. Despite his antics though his methods and his results spoke for themselves. He got the job done, and he did it with S-T-Y-L-E. Style was coincidentally also the name of his underground bunker on an undisclosed location.

"So whose this mystery man whose got your mind? Give me enough info and I'll do everything but tag and bag the Dwarfnut - and I'll do it without scratching gravel." He offered as the highlighted cursor blinked awaiting information he could add to this file in getting a good starting point. He liked to have some meat on the bones of investigation, but he did with a lot less sometimes. The boy could improvise and generate a solution out of pretty much anything. If you had a holonet profile, a digital footprint, or had been even acquainted with a yearly registration for a grocer's holo-token coupon, he'd find you. It was just a matter of time and proper funding.

[member="Matsu Xiangu"]

 

[Matsu Xiangu]

[SIZE=9pt] She found it was prudent to stifle the laughter as ‘Vyce’ rubbed at the impact spot of his rough landing. It didn’t seem wise to offend the sensibilities of someone who was doing you a favor – credits in return or not – and she wasn’t sure if he was the type who could laugh at himself. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=9pt] She pushed herself off the console she was leaning against and slowly paced through the room, arms crossed over her chest and watching him sitting up there, a sarcastic smile on her face when he mentioned a blind date. “The puffballs might not be a bad idea.” She imagined Krius with nerve damage, weak and in pain, and thought that were she not able to do it herself that the puffballs might be somewhat poetic. But as the slicer correctly assumed, something far more personal was in order.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=9pt] There was something strangely hypnotizing about the blue of his tech as he worked, the tapping of his fingers fast like lightning. She’d given a lot of thought to what she could provide as a means of starting the breadcrumb trail. She knew plenty of Krius from the days she was with him, but very little after he’d disappeared in to the atmosphere over Skye. (She took a moment, a breath, just to brush that image of the scavenger shuttle disappearing and leaving her to die from her mind.) “A human, Krius Syonis. The last time I saw him was on Skye. I damaged his ship – some type of scavenger shuttle – extensively and left a…few marks on him as well, and I’m assuming he didn’t get too far without tending to one or both of those,” she offered, her head tilted to watch him on his perch. She was admittedly terrible with ship classes and had never bothered finding out exactly what Krius possessed (as talking about the shuttle often seeming to make him agitated, even angry, as if it conjured bad memories), but she would be able to recognize the repairs needed if it showed up somewhere. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=9pt] She watched as he worked and the joking proposition of a blind date kept popping in to her head for reasons she couldn’t fathom. Boredom, possibly - she'd never been good at waiting, even though the reward would be helpful. He certainly wasn’t hard to look at, but Matsu was in a…complicated set of situations, all compacted by severe and justified trust issues. But his talk of blind dates had her thinking of her best friend Kesare. Admittedly Kesare wasn’t a safe bet either, with a temper as volatile as baradium and a tolerance for stupidity so low she almost shot first and asked questions later. But this ‘Vyce’ clearly wasn’t stupid and Kesare needed to have a night out. Badly. Not to mention that she was the kind of beautiful that had most men tongue-tipped and tripping over themselves with one glance.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=9pt] It took only two jumps, each slightly enhanced by the Force, to use the quiet terminals to reach his perch. She sat cross-legged two or three feet from him, watching his face through the meaningless (to her) arrangement of text and images on his screen. “So, what do you do when you’re not surfing the holonet?” she asked in what she believed was a casual tone, reaching out with one finger to test her theory of being able to move what he was looking at from the other side of the pad.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=9pt][member="Dashal Vance"][/SIZE]​

 

[Dashal Vance]

At birth (or whatever form created the next of kin), your life was not your own, it started a record that linked to the past ancestors in a trail of data as long or longer than the Galaxy itself. Spanning generation after generation, and cataloging your bloodline with such precision it would make a surgeon envious. The records told the the tale, and as you would grow, the laundry list of your activities, registration announcements, and milestones of intergalactic travel and education formed a file that could recount the hallmarks of your life on a galactic government level. There were also other less official means that would populate and scatter your work records, or lack thereof with a growing epidemic of space-fare junkies receiving stipends of credits for becoming at one with their couch. Every channel, every avenue, at some point or another you were tagged in this rich abundance of system data floating out there and ripe for the taking. It took great reach,and an even stronger pull to manipulate such a massive cloud of data, and it took someone exceptionally skilled to pin-point the trail and wipe it clean. Such prowess resided in the mighty somewhat unimpressive frame of the slicer currently attending to the job at hand. Dashal Vance didn't exist in records in either hard or soft copies. He had been expunged from the holonet in total, and it was all his own doing. Anyone with that kind of cyber clout was certainly the one to do a holo-search or two for a name or a face.

"Could call that a consolation prize." Dash uttered with a smirk, commenting that the paralytic consequences of the puffballs would simply be second rate to getting a face to face. "Though you'll never need to." The chimed response came assuring Matsu that her mystery man would be most assuredly found and tracked with relative ease. How much work he'd have to do in order to find him - that was undecided right now. "Unless of course you'd be sporting a veil on delivery." A hint at funeral talk, as he was quite convinced already that death was the only satisfactory end to her desire to see the man who'd been responsible for making her the bionic woman. Even if he did fancy the tech, losing his own arm would be a certain hardship that'd he want to pay recompense. The similitude of a smile and wicked grin spread across his features. He could get behind revenge if necessary, and he had a special spot for the ladies (not that one). Anyone who crossed them caused Dash to play the chivalry card, and go white knight for their honor - or favor as it were.

Information came from her shortly after, spilling crucial and key details that he was logging in. The name was already coming up with possible matches as he cataloged the information into his personal file. Already he was connected to the holonet, and his own private server algorithms. It was a basic search, nothing too in depth, but it also cloud connected his home base to start a sweep and scan for activity registered under that name. The planet was another point of interest. Any and all information she gave was helpful and useful. The more data he could collect, the better the chances were at tracking down her choice of prey. Matsu struck him as the predator type, though as long as he wasn't her choice of a meal, he wasn't bothered by the malice he pieced together from her description. Brows furrowed a bit while he situated the pertinent information from other bits that might be useful later, as his teal eyes struck down towards the raven haired girl.

"Krius Synois?" He asked, somewhat perplexed, only to reveal his confusion in the next breath. "Were his parents sadists?" He didn't very much care for the name, and had to think that the man didn't either. "Sounds like something you'd name a snake, one you didn't like." Dash jested, his name was fine, even if he didn't use it. Another life, another time, and another home-brewed profession, and he would have given it out freely. Even Matsu had a nice ring to it, but the amount of hissing sounds you made when speaking that man's name, he imagined it'd be an even more cruel (or hilarious) joke to present to a lisped individual as their name. Glancing down at the holoscreen for a split second more, before his attention jolted the unnatural loft and ease of the girl's double jump before she lighted next to him. His mouth slumped into a bit of a slack jaw only to form praise on her part. "Alright, you win. Judges are offering a ten on all cards." Both hands raised, in mock surrender as he gave a small chuckle. "Seriously Mats, that's some space ballet level material right there. You don't tour with those primas do you?" He didn't take her for a ballerina, but it was a guess nonetheless. And yes, her nickname had already been decided upon.

Watching her finger slide out to capture the attention of the holographic blue screen, Dash's head tilted to the side, as the screen did a virtual one-eighty and spun to face her, giving her a correct vantage point. On one side, a streaming block of code, changing on every line. The other was a chart of information she'd given him, and the lines connecting them were bouncing back and forth, breaking and some were tying together. It was a mobile sized version of his recognition software he ran in his hidey-hole away from the Galaxy. She was a curious one, and not afraid of personal boundaries (something he could really get behind). Judging by her question though, she wasn't looking for a regailment of his exploits, but she seemed to be more show than tell.

"Well if you must know..." He said, giving her a wink, and tapping the screen on the opposite side. He could even type backwards - can you believe it ladies? Just imagine what those fingers could do on other canvases. He called up another file and then touched all five digits to the screen and tossed it from it's emitter point out in front of them. Both hands moved forward and touched the surface before he expanded it, and threw out a dozen screens in a semi-concave fashion, all displaying various activities. There were rave dances, holocade tournaments, crystal rock concerts, and parkour action from his patent goggle cam. All of this playing simultaneously before them. "....this is what I do, and oh...so much more." Not a single one of the videos though hosted a time stamp, or gave evidence of exactly where he was specifically. He was rather careful. If Matsu didn't have enough ammunition for deciding if he was going to be a fun date for her best friend, she would have it now.

[member="Matsu Xiangu"]

 

[Matsu Xiangu]

[SIZE=9pt] She couldn’t help but laugh when he asked if Krius’ parents were sadists, though the truth made everything so much bleaker. Because the truth is his Mother loved him enough to let him go and then he watched her die. And he left his Father near death after infiltrating his mind in the name of stealing his ship and leaving him behind. You’d expect to hear some remorse in his voice when he recounted that story. Maybe a second’s pause to wonder if his Father survived the invasion he so casually enacted. But there was nothing in his face. His eyes were dead. He may not be a snake in truth, but he is aptly named. He waits in the grass and he strikes without feeling. To her the name would always mean fear, always mean loathing, always mean blood in the snow and how deafening silence could be.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=9pt] She grinned, fangs peeking out from beneath painted red lips as she held out both hands, her natural arm dainty and gentle in its ballerina’s pose while the cybernetic was graceful in its own way though she doubted it would fly on the stages the primas graced. “Oh yes – can’t you see me in a tutu?” A short laugh escaped her, lowering her arms back to rest in the cross of her legs. “I’ll invite you to the next performance,” she offered. There was a litheness to Matsu and perhaps in another life where things hadn’t gone so differently she might have found herself touring with the envy of the dancing Galaxy. Somehow she found it hard to believe he hadn’t already met one or two of them though – she was getting the distinct impression his smoothness was really just natural, not some act he put on when doing business to up his clients confidence.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=9pt] The nickname was still blooming in her mind when he spun the screen towards her, all the sudden watching everything scrolling in the right direction – information faster than the eye could catch (unless you have the energy of the slicer behind the screen) compiling in front of her. She didn’t dare touch, worried that a poke or prod in the wrong place would send his data collection to shambles though in truth it couldn’t have been that fragile – he probably wouldn’t have allowed it to be. But regardless she was unwilling to suffer his wrath if she broke something so instead she just watched him through the blue glow, tilting her head to look at the sphere of videos he pulled up in answer to her question.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=9pt] Oh yes…perfect.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=9pt] “Well, I have this friend…” She pulled a small datapad out from within the folds of her clothes – the wonders of being a woman, hidden pockets galore – and pulled up a picture of Kesare. There were few pictures that were not Kesare’s “best” pictures, and even the worst was a thing of beauty. She flipped the pad so he could see her and make his own judgment. “Kesare hasn’t been on a date in a…long time. I think it might be nice for her to get out and have some fun. And you clearly have a lot of fun,” she said, waving her free hand to indicate the many screens drifting slowly in a circle around them. Saying Kesare hadn’t had a date in a long time was something of an understatement – she’d never had one, at least not one she hadn’t been forced in to as a slave. Matsu, for all she knew, could be making a grave mistake in trying to set this up as Kesare’s reaction might be…dangerous. But she was willing to try and this Vyce seemed more than capable of escaping if things went sour. “I will say though, she’s…difficult.”[/SIZE]

[SIZE=9pt] Fair warning – she didn’t want this man coming to find her and try beating her over the head for nearly getting him killed if it went that way.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=9pt][member="Dashal Vance"][/SIZE]​

 

[Dashal Vance]

To say that the native of Hapes was well acquainted with a wide variety of lady friends across the cosmos was a complete understatement. His innate joie de vivre was quite infectious, and when paired with a charismatic smile and type A personality - resistance was seemingly futile. There was certainly an ego there - but it wasn't paired with his looks or his charm, it was only coupled with his abilities and the confidence he carried in showing the ladies a good time. If he didn't boast such a mighty intellect, he'd be likely tongue tied in the presence of any of the beauties he'd swooned over in the past. The fast talking, and stylish grace of his off-kilter speech was a bonafide blessing. There was a distinct difference however when he was in the company of those that he wasn't oogling. He often lacked the social graces to simply blend. Dash was meant to stand out, as brightly as a shining star - which made it entirely difficult to be covert in a group setting. A key reason why he tended to become an irritation for his peer group. The one on one dealings were his tusken bread and bantha butter.

"Now you're just teasing." The slicer grinned in Matsu's direction kicking one foot up to press knee to his chest, and relax a bit while the holoscreens danced before them. Some of the newer videos featuring his ice-boarding stints on Hoth and Alzoc III were shot from both a goggle cam view and some of the resort's own holovids. Where he got them...well, that was what the slicer did best. Most people would be surprised to learn that a good portion of holovids of excellent taste were sourced right from this nearly twenty-one year old Hapan. Certainly he was a man of many talents, and an abundance of free-time. "Ballerinas.." He pondered aloud given a visible shake of pleasure that radiated up and down his spine. "What they can do with those legs. I'd probably have to abscond with the whole lot of you - luxury liner cruise for a few days to hologram fun world. Yes please." There was certainly no secret here that Dash was a ladies man, and monogamy wasn't something he was currently set on. That was simply another word for boring - the antithesis of Dash. He often feared that of all the dangers in the Galaxy, that would be his undoing, and eventual demise.

Then came that datapad, and Dash's relaxed and smug smile turned into an slack-jawed face of wonder and awe. If the trolling of holonet profiles were a galactic sport, he'd probably take the carbonite prize, but she was a gal of a different caliber - an elevation that Cloud city would consider the nosebleeds. She had said something about a date - at least the slicer wanted to believe she did. Something about Kesare's picture on the datapad had liquefied all cognizant thought from his hyperactive brain, turning knowledge into proverbial goo. His left hand reached out to gently trace along the curves of the face in the digital image - as if he had just found religion in the form of the brunette. Dash wasn't a religious man, but the Moross crusade had nothing on her. Coming to a more composed feature, his eyes drifted upwards painfully drawing away from the image to look at Matsu and offer a hardy grin.

"Friend?" He uttered in a still slightly shocked tone. "I need to start shopping where you do. I'm obviously only acquainted with the clearance aisle, and you've jumped straight to companion level territory." He sat back for a moment and drew his fingers over his chin in a thoughtful pose as he pondered the cause for why this woman hadn't seen the light of a thousand neon lights in party planets around the Galaxy. "Well you're asking the right guy. I do put the 'fun' in infundibuliform, defunct droid brains, and fundamental junction code." There was probably a euphemism in there somewhere, but he wasn't gonna belabor the point when Matsu mentioned that she was difficult. "If she wasn't a challenge, I doubt she'd be needing this good time you've cooked up for her. Thankfully all my holocade games are set to max difficulty, so I'm fairly qualified. And who knows, this may just earn you a discount on the finder's fee."

Speaking of...Dash interlaced his fingers and gave an audible simultaneous crack to each knuckle and worked the holodisplay to converge and center onto the single screen, throwing it back to his vambrace emitter. A few more key strokes and the blue hued translucent screen vanished into the emitter, leaving them to have only the empty air between them. Right arm layered over his right kneecap, as he turned in relaxed posture to the side to address the raven haired skin walker.

"So, you looking for a bead on his twenty, or did ya need a more comprehensive package detailing everything I put together? The package deal is quite nice, even has custom font, and digital readout. Platinum of course is the most favored package. Even the Hutts give it five stars and they lack all sense of style. So ya know..wow factor and all." In that jumble of pedantic preening of his skills, he was offering her choices on delivery, and getting a read on what she actually needed.

[member="Matsu Xiangu"] <3

 

[Matsu Xiangu]

[SIZE=9pt] Oh, just teasing? She grinned, the ends of her fangs peeking out as she turned slightly to be in profile as she ever so gently searched for a small piece of distraction in his mind. This was what she did with predatory efficiency on force-users trained in defending themselves and so was relatively easy on someone without the same gift, but she wasn’t intruding with the intent of hurting him or bending him to her will. Merely teasing. She pulled the right strings so that he might see her dressed just as those primas did on stage, long legs in sheer hosiery, expanses of pale skin. “Maybe I am,” she admitted anyway, releasing the hold she’d tried to gain.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=9pt] In most ways Matsu was unconventional. She would not meet the expectations of most if they knew she called herself Sith – too friendly at first glance, too patient, too unwilling to extract fear for the rush of it. Sure, there was garden variety in the path she followed but she was in the far outfield regardless. She had never cared about boys, clothes, or any of the holodramas other girls her age had talked about for hours when she was growing up and now, about midway through her 20’s, she still didn’t care for the things one might assume she might. (Except for the clothes – that much was obvious as she brushed her hands subconsciously over the fine weave of her slacks. These are High Zeltron, don’t you know? A thread count so high it felt more like water on her skin.) But there was one way in which she was all woman, and that was in the hope of one day finding someone who wanted her and just her and that she would feel the same way about in return. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=9pt] Matsu felt confident in the read that Vyce had had his fair share of acquaintances and more in the past and that didn’t bother her a lick – despite her own hopes for the future, she believed love and sex existed in many forms and worked in different ways for different people. If he was happy loving them and leaving them then good for him – and he was clearly happy with what he saw in Kesare as his fingers reached out to trace the lines of a proxy Sayormi Queen. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=9pt] Friend?[/SIZE]
[SIZE=9pt] Matsu grinned.[/SIZE]
[SIZE=9pt] Maybe a little more sometimes Vyce, but I have secrets too.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=9pt] In truth, no store would have a model like Kesare – not even those that catered to the very highest class in the very center of the Core worlds. And not just because of her beauty! Matsu met Kesare years and years ago, when they were both knee-high to their parents but just as clearly troublemakers. Though circumstances beyond their control had taken them away from each other and seemingly without a trace either existed as far as the other was concerned, they had found each other. And it had been like nothing ever changed. Fourteen years of silence and they went right back to normal. (I guess that’s love too, isn’t it?) She wasn’t entirely sure maximum difficulty on his holocade games was enough practice to handle Kesare but she wasn’t about to object. She’d done her service by warning him and couldn’t be blamed for any untoward situations that would follow. Slipping the small datapad back in the folds of her clothes she nodded. “Well, I guess we can work the details of you two meeting in to our price then,” she said, watching him go back to his readouts before he abruptly shut them.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=9pt] After convincing herself she wasn’t idly watching the shopping channel (this package truly is a great value, all this for only 29.99…) she considered all that he might be able to offer. As she’d pointed out, money was no object and every scrap of what he could find was important to her. “Well, the custom font has really convinced me,” she said, resting her chin on one hand. “I need everything you can find, even if it seems unimportant. If he ate Quor’sav eggs for breakfast I want to know about it.” It may have seemed intense but Matsu assumed Vyce had gotten stranger requests if his talent was all he projected it to be. Krius had always meant to spread his message across the Galaxy and she had the gut feeling that her ‘betrayal’ (for what else would it be in his eyes?) had catalyzed something. If he was planning she wanted to know his movements, find patterns, essentially turn her room in to one of those awful holohorrors in which someone tapes newspaper clippings to the wall and connects points of interest with pins and string. A Krius conspiracy, as it were. “Depending on how long it takes you to compile it all, I suppose you could deliver it when you came for Kesare?”[/SIZE]

[SIZE=9pt][member="Dashal Vance"][/SIZE]​

 

[Dashal Vance]

Flirting with danger was an avid pastime, hailing from a long line of incidents in which the Hapan had seemingly played with fire and somehow managed to avoid getting burned. This was an entirely new spin on the phrase with his semi-cybernetic client that illicited such a cool confidence and knowing wry grins. It was certainly a far cry from flirting with the 'Danger' of the SSS along the Hydian way. That redhead though was a bit too busy to notice his virtual advances - but sometimes you knocked out of the park, and other times it was a swing and a miss. Still his average was fairly high, and he'd make the pros one day if he could land a girl like Kesare. Matsu was still intently delicious, but she seemed more business oriented, just hinted with the devilish appeal of a dominating huntress. As if to prove her own point in this game of seduction techniques, Dash's vision blurred a bit refocusing on the skin tight outfit that was pressed to the lithe frame, giving glimpses at flesh that were nothing but illusion.

A low whistle escaped his lips while teal eyes widened, pupils dilated and his head tilted to the side with a smug grin. It wasn't intentional, it was reactionary as Matsu pulled his brain strings like a mystic marionette to direct his focus in any way she deemed fit. The pale flesh against subtle tones of pink and white was a glorious sight and the youth was enamored by the quick glimpse into the mind's eye that she had placed to further tempt him. As the vision dissipated, a slightly confused and bitter-sweet expression rose to his visage. Brows furrowed and digits rose to scratch at his temple while he tried to do the math on this unusual vision that had wafted through his brain. He didn't recall taking any recreational drugs in the last few days - and unless the puffcakes were laced with hallucinogens (which would call for a fake warrant to search their recipe book so he could get more) Dash was unsure what exactly had happened. Forefinger and thumb drew up to point and fire at Matsu once he noticed that tell-all smile.

"Making day dreams a reality - I think that's a whole new level of teasing, and an excellent venue for commercial advertisements. You'd make one heck of a subliminal marketing agent, Mats. Just don't drone me if you can resist - I'm far more fun when I'm not on auto-pilot." Besides, he didn't want to miss one minute of the action, and this girl was all about action - though patient as she had been indulging the whim and fancy of his pomp and circumstance antics and speech. It wasn't always easy dealing with such a highly energetic and random wit - but she seemed to be playing along splendidly. "Putting a new spin on a virtual walk-through. Or possibly the next big thing to the holo-shopping network. A virtual try before you buy option - you'd make a killing, and I'd be a heavy investor." He wasn't going further than that, mainly because his thoughts would soon diverge from advanced cutlery and absorbent cloth to the companion house guild and escort services - or worse yet Galaxy Girls Unlimited. She may have been a mind-reader and a mind-bender, but he assumed he'd make even a woman like Matsu blush if she got further into the active gray-matter.

"Though speaking of Ballerinas, my payment plans are just as flexible - and paying homage through a blind date is only one of the many transaction methods pre-approved for expedient service. I'll get his itinerary, docking papers, ship logs - hell I'll even throw in his Holonet recording schedule if it'll help. By the time I'm done, you'll know more about your mark than he might know was possible." Dash meant what he said too - there was a reason he could charge the way he did for information, because if it existed he would find it. No sub-orbital station too high, and no smuggler's moon under-city too low to keep him away from those credit worthy bits of data. "I might have something by the time I swing by to entertain your challenging friend - but I won't keep you in suspense. All of my results are guaranteed, and I hold a strong warranty on the packages I sell. Though I don't do lay-a-way." It seemed to him as if payment wasn't an issue, but he wanted to make sure that she knew whatever she received was everything to be found on her target of choice. He couldn't promise that it'd get her within ten feet just be reading over his notes, but he wasn't a mercenary or really an infochant, he just broke down the barrier of the virtual world and delivered the unfettered data into the hands of these gorgeous paying clients.

Hand to mouth for a slight couch in a change of subject, Dash rose up a bit atop the large bulky server they were both situated on brushing off his clothes from the rafter adventures above before checking his shoulder against the durasteel wall panel to his left. Time spent discussing the business details went by quickly, and there really wasn't any loose ends to tie up about what she wanted. Should she want to tie Dash up, that was an entirely different story, and required a different kind of payment in advance. Arms crossed over his chest while the Hapan cocked his head and gave an amused grin. Matsu was an intriguing client, who'd offered him something very unique in the form of settling a score she had been holding onto since that cybernetic arm came into play. Teal eyes watched her for a moment longer before plucking out a transponder chip from his jacket and taking a measured step forward and handing it over.

"Encrypted transponder. Give me a heads up on when and where, and I'll come dressed to the nines." Dash offered, holding out the chip for her to take. "And I know you ladies love to chat, and I'm sure convincing will be an issue if she's as feisty as you say. I wouldn't begrudge you a resume builder if you wanted to translate some of my assets into the conversation. I'm told that the lips don't lie." He said in a self assured but playful fashion while giving a subtle gesture to his own mouth. Yes, he just offered Matsu a free of charge lip lock to give Keasre a real indication of what to expect performance wise on a date with the Hapan slicer. He'd not heard any bad press from previous attempts with other vixens across the Galaxy...so why hold out on her? He certainly couldn't think of a reason.

[member="Matsu Xiangu"] <3

 

[Matsu Xiangu]

[SIZE=9pt] After clearing the image of herself coiffed and polished for primetime on the shopping network she considered his packages, prices, and the time to deliver. In truth, Matsu wasn’t in much of a rush despite the way she spoke about Krius. He was too careful to get himself killed – except when it came to her of course, because after all she’d been too weak in his eyes to ever survive and get up and come find him – and she was confident he would still be there when she was ready to come calling.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=9pt] Ready. She didn’t really know what the definition was or what that point would be. It was not a question of power – she had surpassed what she had known him to be long ago, and she was confident that she would remain more powerful no matter how long he managed to live free of her grasp. It was not fear either. In the beginning she had lived in fear: of his rejection, of the pain he could cause her both physical and mental, and of failure in his eyes. But the world she lived in now was her own, a world where she got what she wanted sometimes through persuasion, sometimes through cash, sometimes through cold and clinical violence – but mostly just by virtue of who she’d become. Krius Syonis had nothing on her and none of the preacher-man misguided reverence had survived their confrontation. So from any reasonable outsider’s view it might seem as if she were ready – powerful, unafraid? Go for it.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=9pt] But maybe it was just because in her mind she appointed a sort of...milestone, a marker on her ascent in to the change she hoped to mark in the galaxy. To free herself of him was to become something new. And that deserved the correct timing.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=9pt] “If you don’t have everything by the time you come to pick up Kesare, I won’t be angry. I’m sure you know you come highly recommended – I’m willing to wait if it means the best information I can get,” she answered. Despite the praise there was no sense of stroking his ego to speed his pace or get her extra bells and whistles on the package for free. Preening was an unattractive quality and she did not dispense compliments unless they were due. Besides, a date with Kesare – barring lethal results – was enough of a side payment.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=9pt] She took the transponder delicately between two pointed claws on her cybernetic hand, folding it in to her palm and about to stand and make a delicate leap down to the floor when she realized he was offering her a kiss. Her immediate reaction was a laugh, a thing that bubbled up from deep in her chest and threatened to spill over. It wasn’t as if his offer was a hilarious or offensive one – she’d have to be blind to deny he was good-looking and he had a way of speaking that felt like being slowly and carefully undressed, a frenetic distraction designed to ease you in to the water. Maybe in another life she would have been tempted. But with the knowledge that he’d be going on a date with her best friend felt strange – she’d kissed Kesare enough for one thing and didn’t need to start some circle of kissing that looped right back around, not to mention she wasn’t a huge fan of physical contact.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=9pt] She grinned, making that delicate jump despite being caught off guard by his offer. “You’ve got a date with the Wolf-Queen, Vyce. Don’t be greedy.”[/SIZE]

[SIZE=9pt] She made her way to the door with the same serpent-sway line of curves she always donned, wondering if he had some hideout he planned on going back to or if he would monkey back up in the inner workings of the station to find a quiet place to play his games. She was already sure one could never be sure when it came to him. “Don’t strain your eyes with all that gaming,” she called over her shoulder before disappearing just the way she’d come from.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=9pt][member="Dashal Vance"][/SIZE]​