Strange Bedfellows

[Sol Damerin]

Planet: Ord Mantell

Location: Caliban Estate

The contract reached Sol's comm right before he'd been about to hop planet. He'd been on Ord Mantell for almost a week and hadn't seen any work, rare in the Outer Rim especially on this planet. He'd all but given up when it came through, it was brief to the point and lacked details however the money was right. The message read as follow:

Hello Mr Damerin,

My name is Alecto Caliban, I have need of a pair of mercenaries to do a specific job. Unfortunately, this is short notice and require a level of discretion so I've been unable to contact a major firm. That left me with the option of contacting two freelance mercenaries and you are one of only two who is close enough to make it in time.

If you are interested please be at these coordinates within the hour. This is my estate, the guards will let you in if you give them your name. I hope to see you soon. Oh, and to incentives you to come, I should let you know the bounty is one hundred thousand credits, each. I trust that is sufficient to catch your interest.

Regards,

Alecto Caliban.

Generally speaking, he liked information on a job before he decided to take it or not. Or well, he liked more information, however, one hundred thousand credits was enough money for him to go despite his better judgement. He wasn't always mercenary since he didn't need the money but big paydays did feel really good to collect.

The estate was outside the city and it was luxurious. High fence, well-kept grounds, palatial in size. The guards let him and soon he was in a sitting room that screamed wealth and good taste. Whoever this Caliban was he didn't just have money, he had good taste. That was a tragically rare combination in Sol's experience and he leans against one of the spaces on the wall without art as he waits for the man of the house and the other merc to arrive. His spot chosen because it gave him a view of both doors and the window.

[member="Atlas Nova"]

 

[Atlas Nova]

Atlas was sitting in a busy cantina, enjoying a payout from her last job on Ord Mantell when her datapad buzzed, alerting her to a new message. Taking the thin, hand-sized device out of her breast pocket she read the note. Very rarely did she receive, and even then accept, direct requests. Most often she simply took open jobs posted on bounty boards or organised her own hunts after regional most-wanteds. Her eyebrows raised at the amount of this one--one hundred thousand caught her interest, indeed. Although she had a serious complaint with merc versus hunter--she wasn’t just some random mook--the money was worth it. Rarely were bounties more than a few thousand. Slapping down a few credit chips to pay her tab, she headed out to meet at the provided coordinates.

She was greeted by high walls and bored guards. After showing her ID she was permitted to enter, with a gaudily-dressed servant leading her to a lush receiving room. It’s lofty ceiling, embroidered tapestries, and tall windows at one end made it feel more like a throne room. She nodded at the man leaning against the wall in the corner, guessing he was the one she was going to work with. Hopefully he’d be competent and without too much of an ego--although that was asking a bit much, so she’d settle for something like not completely an idiot. She herself was wearing her usual boots, pants, and jacket, with a blaster at her side. She wasn’t going to be like a hardcore Mandolorian. Those bucketheads probably showered and mated in their kriffing armor.

“Atlas Nova. I’ll be working with you. Swanky place, huh?”

 

[Sol Damerin]

A woman enters and it was easy to tell that she was the other person working this job. She didn't match the decor and it made her stand out like a sore thumb, just like he did. He was wearing a pair of faded cargo pants, a battle chest plate over a tight black long sleeve, a gun belt with his blaster pistol in the holster, and a harness on his back. The hilts of his twin vibroblades within easy reach. His gaze flits over her assessing and then he nods. "Swanky sounds about right, Sol Damerin." Unfolding his arms he pushes off from the wall and offers her his hand. She looked at least somewhat competent and not totally green, he could work with that.

Atlas would have enough time to shake his hand and maybe exchange a pleasantry before the door opens. The man who walks in is short, portly, and dressed finely though not ostentatiously. He wore a big friendly smile and managed to project a bearing of a man who was used to commanding the room. "Greetings!" He says in a boisterous friendly tone. "I am Alecto Caliban." He had an interesting accent a bit thick and he rolls his r's oddly. "Come sit, sit." He gestures towards the fine chairs and urges the two to take a seat. "Can I get you anything? Drinks? Food? You are guests in my home so anything at all that I can provide shall be brought before we get to..." His voice trails off and his expression darkens with a mixture of anger and sadness. "Business."

[member="Atlas Nova"]

 

[Atlas Nova]

Atlas took a step back as Sol approached her. She hesitated for a moment before quickly shaking his hand and wiping her palm on her pant leg, as if she wanted to get the act over with as soon as possible. After a moment their client approached. Remaining expressionless, she only needed a moment before guessing about who he was. He clearly had money, but not so much of the crippling insecurity issues that would normally drive someone to put on a gaudy display. He probably hired a designer to decorate his house, and a stylist to dress him every morning. The majority of his life had been easy, and rarely had people say no to him. She’d also bet money on the fact that he probably didn’t deal with bounty hunters often, or ever.

“I’ll be fine, thanks,” she replied tersely. She sat stiffly on the edge of a chair, refusing to settle into its plush velvet. Getting personable with clients was the first step to attaching feelings to the target, whether sympathy or anger.

“What exactly is this target of yours, and why does it require two people?”

[member="Sol Damerin"]

 

[Sol Damerin]

Sol accepts the offer of hospitality but asks only for a water, which he didn't really want. He'd dealt with this kind of man before and men like Alecto Caliban liked knowing that they'd provided for others. Water is brought in and Sol sips at a glass of ice water before settling it down. At that point, Atlas pops in and Alecto's expression once again darkens. Drumming his fingers on the armrest of his seat he tries to decide where to begin.

Caliban takes a breath and tells them his tale. He starts by explaining that he is an honest man, he started life as a farmer but thanks to a few bumper years in a row he earned enough to start buying up more land. His fortunes expanding when he acquired a particular plot of land with some mineral deposits that he sold the rights to. He explains that he ships grain and ore all over Ord Mantell and off the planet and that a criminal group called the Red Band approached him looking to hide illicit goods in his shipments.

Alecto heatedly tells the two mercenaries that he is no criminal and that he turned down the Red Band. They took offence and soon after kidnapped his daughter. They then gave him a four-day deadline to either let them use his ships for smuggling, or they would kill his daughter. He believes that once he does it once they will use that fact to blackmail future compliance out of him. Unwilling to give in to their demands, unable to go to the authorities for fear that they will execute his daughter, Caliban settled on hiring a pair of mercenaries to rescue her and deal with the Red Band. He wanted at least two since he wanted one of them to guard her at all times once she was rescued and until she was back home.

When Caliban finishes Sol shrugs and nods. He was in, the pay was right, he was decent at stealth, and it was as good a cause as any. Which left Atlas, was she willing to commit now that she knew what was going on?

[member="Atlas Nova"]

 

[Atlas Nova]

Atlas quietly sat while Caliban told his tale. He waxed dramatic, going into every detail that was relevant in his mind. A simple man, he said, working for his fortune. After refusing a criminal group the right to use his shipping containers, they kidnapped his daughter and gave him an ultimatum. Not wanting to give in, or perhaps not trusting the criminal group to return his daughter, he hired two bounty hunters (or as he insisted calling them, mercs) to rescue his damsel in distress. If Caliban was assuming that she’d be afraid of the job details now that she knew them, he was wrong. Very little scared her anymore, and in her mind this was just like any other job in bringing back a live target in hostile territory. The only difference, thankfully, was that his daughter wouldn’t be trying to kill them.

Atlas glanced at Sol. “Well, I don’t know about you, but I’m in. She’ll be back in one piece, as much as I can guarantee it.”

 

[Sol Damerin]

Caliban claps his hands together excitedly. "Excellent, excellent. I do not know everything but their hideout is in the Red Rock Canyon one hundred and ten kilometres west of here. Unfortunately, the hunters I have in my employe are not great scouts so I know no more than that." He pauses and then shrugs. "I will leave you two to plan, if you require anything let me know all your expenses will be paid." Then the man whisks out of the room and Sol stares for a moment at his pack before looking at Atlas. "Well, this should be interesting. Going to need to figure out how to rescue the girl without alerting the guards, from what Caliban said they are likely to just kill her if they suspect anything."

[member="Atlas Nova"]

 

[Atlas Nova]

“That was...odd,” Atlas remarked quietly a moment after Caliban left. She turned to look at Sol as he began to speak. Nodding, she expressed her agreement. “First step is scouting the premises. Why don’t we meet at my ship to discuss and plan?” Normally she’d say to wait until they hit orbit and made the jump to hyperspace, as she normally did when with other jobs, but they didn’t have far to go. After walking out of the building and reaching the gate, the guards let them through to the outside world. Atlas would give Sol the coordinates to the city’s space station and the docking bay number, before slipping into a waiting landspeeder.
----------
Atlas would be waiting in the common area of her ship, a nondescript freighter she lovingly called “The Rustbucket.” The loading ramp was down, and she was perched atop a red bar stool behind a table that doubled as a dejarik board. It had holo capabilities, and could display map projections and other images too. Carefully lighting a cigarette, she took a breath before releasing it, the smoke curling around her head like a skinny dragon. When he got there, she would offer him one, and a drink if he wanted it.

[member="Sol Damerin"]

 

[Sol Damerin]

"Sounds like a plan." Sol says as he too gets up and leaves. They take their separate speeders but he doesn't head right to the spaceport. Instead, he heads to the cheap motel he'd been staying in to pick up his gear. He'd already been armed for battle but the rest of the bag might be handy. Once he has it, which means he has all his worldly possessions. This done he heads to the spaceport.

Climbing up the ramp he looks around at the beat up old freighter. It was definitely a mercenary ship. He waves off the offer of the cigarette, he'd never really liked the smell of smoke. The drink he accepts, but if it is water he requests it be watered down. He'd rather not have a buzz when he did this mission. "So, how do we want to do this? Land close and scout on foot? Or does this ship have something that will let us scan them without being seen?"

[member="Atlas Nova"]

 

[Atlas Nova]

“She ain’t pretty, but she’s fast.” Atlas remarked as she noticed Sol looking around. Nodding to his request for a watered-down drink if it was something strong,she set down her cigarette in an ashtray in front of her. She stood and walked over to the food synthesizer unit. She wasn’t much for cooking, honestly. Returning with two steaming mugs, she set one in front of Sol before taking her seat again. “It’s just caf. Cream and sugar if you want it.”

She sat for a moment to think before replying to his question. “I don’t know, how do you want to do this? I’d land close and go on foot. She’s got some sensors, but it won’t replace reconnaissance we do ourselves. I like to see what exactly it is I’m getting into.”

She’d wait for his reply before stamping out her cigarette and standing up again, turning toward the short corridor that led to the cockpit. Motioning for him to follow her, she sat down in the captain’s chair. After putting in the coordinates in the navicomp, and closing the loading ramp, she began the liftoff sequence.

“Shouldn’t be more than an hour or so. We’ll be landing a fair distance away so their sensors don’t detect us.”

[member="Sol Damerin"]

 

[Sol Damerin]

"They are more likely to spot a ship than us so I agree, let's scout it by foot." Sol says as he accepts the caff, he adds a bit of milk and sugar but not too much of either. Sipping on as she heads to the cockpit he follows and takes the copilots seat. He could fly, he wasn't the best hell he wasn't even good unless he used The Force, but he could fly if it came up. Hopefully, it wouldn't though.

While they go he is mostly quiet, not unfriendly, but quiet. He was past the days when he could be taciturn, he'd been put into too many situations where he'd wound up talking peoples ears off for that. However, they were on a job and he wanted to focus. Once the set down he is ready to move. Their target is about five kilometers away, a good hour hike at a forced march.

The Red Rock Canyon was a big red gash in the savannah landscape. There had once been a mining facility along one ridge which was likely what the Red Band had set up shop in. If he had to guess based on the name of the criminal group, this was their main base of operations. They are soon sitting on a ridge and he is looking down at the facility. "I can see at least three guards watching the perimeter, no idea how many are inside though." One had a watch post at the top of the canyon, two where on lookout near the main entrances of the canyon on either end.

[member="Atlas Nova"]

 

[Atlas Nova]

The flight and ensuing hour-long hike through the tall grass of Ord Mantel’s savanna a was rather uneventful. The heat beat down on them both, causing sweat to roll down her face. He was quiet the entire way, only talking when it seemed socially necessary. Atlas didn’t mind, and was actually quite thankful. It saved her from having to feign interest in a conversation--talking was one of her least favorite activities anyhow.

------------------

She lay low in the tall grass so as not to be sighted, and gazed out with a pair of binoculars over the canyon. She could see where the Red Band got it’s name, with the “red band” of the rocks stretching out over her field of view. Their mining facility was a collection of a few connected buildings, most no more than a story or two tall. A few tunnel entrances dotted the base of the canyon as well, two of them being guarded by droids.

Nodding as she noted the human guards too, she said, “Looks like this place isn’t kept as high-security as I thought it would be. Well, either that or it stretches below ground and we can’t see that from the outside. I don’t think we’re going to find much until we go inside.” She would hold out the binoculars for him to look at if he wanted to.

“I don’t know how exactly you want to do things. I’d go inside and clear house as quickly and efficiently as possible, killing or at least incapacitating everyone we come across. Heading out at nightfall would also be a good idea.” she continued.

Bounty hunting was an ugly business sometimes. Atlas really hoped he didn’t have moral hangups. She wasn’t going to cause wanton bloodshed, but she wasn’t going to let one lone Red Band member go unaccounted for that might alert others to their presence and send out a distress signal. She also wouldn’t hesitate sedating or using a stun pistol on the daughter if she resisted or proved to be a large hindrance to them getting her out safely.

------------------

After they discussed what their plans and headed back to the ship she would spend time getting suited up. Her armor was a faded dark green and yellow, looking almost as if she had stolen it off a Mandalorian. On her hips rested two DL-44 heavy blasters and a utility knife was strapped to her thigh. Various grenade types and other gear hung from her utility belt, and her blaster carbine was slung across her back.

[member="Sol Damerin"]

 

[Sol Damerin]

It doesn't take long to scope it out and he frowns. It wasn't impregnable but it was actually a good place for a base. There were ways to exploit it, of course, none of which were easily available to them. Which left them with stealth. "Remember, this mission might be over if they raise an alarm." He strokes his chin. There were a lot of issues with killing or knocking out everyone they came across. Radio check-ins one person misses one and the whole thing is up in a poof. Someone stumbling across a body and raising the alarm. Getting caught while they were hiding a body. However, there were just as many issues with going in with pure stealth if they get caught.

"I think we go in as stealthy as we can. Pick our targets carefully and go slow. We don't know where the target is and we have to minimize the chance of an alarm until we locate her. After nightfall is a good idea as well." With that additional suggestion given he waits for her to suit up. Once she is ready he leads the way to the edge of the canyon. Lowering down a grappling line he leads the way to the top of one of the buildings landing softly. Then he begins looking for a roof access hatch. Finding one he makes short work of the lock and drops down into the facility. It was time for them to get to work.

[member="Atlas Nova"]