Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos

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Faction The Price of Information (The Family)

C O U R S C A N T
Lower Levels

Why is it, that one of the hardest species of beings to hunt, had to be last seen on a planet, with so many goddamn faces. They knew that with so many people, there were so many faces to steal. However, that was not the part that interested me in this hunt. It was the fact that the price on the Clawdites head, was nearly half a million credits. Why would there be a need for this individual to, as I had been told a multitude of times, to be clipped. Using the same word over and over. Clipped. A key word that was unique. Sure, I had heard of the word used before in respect to "clipping loose ends" or to just clean off the dead ends. But this contact. Really weird. Kept using clipped. Secondly, the guy was all nervous of letting "A potential friend of ours" into the hunt for this Clawdite. Thinking back on that interaction, everything seemed just a little... shady.

Needless to say, I came well prepared. Literally all of my gear I could carry was with me. Hammer, rifle, couple service knives, and of course, my hunting rifle. The one weapon that has carried me through so much of the past time away from others of my kindred. It was a reliable weapon that I had trusted for years now. In a single point sling, it hung to my left. While a service knife was being tossed up into the air, and caught on the way down. Taking easy steps through the marketplace. What I needed, was a specific heat signature.

Clawdites were a species of bipedal sentients, that could shapeshift into a multitude of beings. However, typically limited to humanoid. As long as it wasn't a Shi-ido, I would be fine. The Clawdites, after shapeshifting, has a huge influx of heat in their body. Dissipating the heat required in the process of literally, shedding their skin to look like someone else. Kind of disgusting actually. All I could imagine was a human skin being flayed off and laying on the ground. Left behind like that of a serpent. Hence, the thermal imaging being used. Picking up a wide range of body temps of people. What I was not fond about, were the individuals who were starting to lose their inhibitions, and deciding the public was a good place to start making moves. The hot points of their body flaring in my imaging, making it very apparent where the next stage of their relationship was going. Yet, enough, it was just down the way, an extremely bright, warm and burning up individual was looking at a shop. Clothing.

Yeah. Shopping for clothes that fit the new look. Blend in. The tossed service knife in my hand was itching to be thrown the distance, but I had been paid extra to do my best to keep it quiet. it was to only be for last resort that any public violence would be necessary.

Instead, I opted to try and be the good guy.

Closing the distance, the knife was sheathed after one final toss before I placed a hand on the clawdite. Leaning in, my helmet got extremely close to the "female" face they wore at the moment.

"Looks like you pissed off the wrong people."
She attempted to run. Yet a strong iron grip upon her shoulder prevented her from moving any further than a step away.
"Luckily I am not one of them. I know you have information, and I want it."

The clawdite looked around confused. Unsure as to why I knew this information. In truth, all I knew, was that they stole something to this contact. Something so valuable they wanted half a mill on this person's head. it wasn't no pet dog, or a toy. It was going to be information. Something they stole, that the contact wanted to keep in a safe, six feet deep. Even if that meant the six feet it was under was bodies.

"I'm not working with a Mandalorian."
"Not a Mandalorian. You aren't the only thief."

She picked up fast what I was meaning. I took the armor and weapons to seem more intimidating, and less likely to be messed with. Plus, it was more likely I would get points with the Clawdite. They were running. They had nobody. They needed somebody. Even if that person was the very thing hunting them down.



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Fumbling lightly with the communication device, Vexel was really not liking the interaction he had with the Mandalorian. Surprisingly, he bore no clan crest, no name other than "Priest" it sounded familiar to him, but nothing that jogged his memory right away. Vexel wasn't very high up the food chain, but he knew when there was potential in this man. Reaching out to his superiors, he left them a very simple message that the Mando needed to be watched. Even more so when it seemed the Mandalorian was in it only for the money.

"A third party mandalorian is hunting down our bounty. He has a couple accolades on his belt. We should have some follow him for possible recruitment, or to swoop in and grab the bounty as quick as possible. Discression has been advised to the Mandalorian, Tarre Priest, and so should our units who follow him."

Vexel sent this out to all availble in the area. Mostly because it would be interesting to have a Mandalorian within the Family. One who seemed so... dedicated to his craft.
 
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Leverage. He had exactly zero. That would change and once it did, once he held all the power, everyone who ever wronged him would need to sleep with one eye open. Declan, that traitorous, cowardly, backstabbing dog. Sero would skin him alive and use his pelt as a blanket at night. Valturla that fething ship-stealing, greedy, smelly, slimy, disgusting slug. Sero would cleave off pieces of his tail and feed it to him while he roasted alive. That theiving tholothian would not escape his wrath either. He hadn't had enough time to work out exactly how he would pay that mutinous whore back but he would and when he did he would keep just enough lungs in her air so he could hear her beg him to take it.

If that fething clawdite didn't show up soon he'd have another name to curse on his list. He'd handed that slippery shape-shifting schutta his very last two-hundred credits and the promise of more. The promise meant nothing but those credits were everything. Everything. Sero needed what that clawdite promised to provide. He needed it more than he had needed anything in his life.

So he waited in a dark stinking alley near the shopping center of Coruscant's underlevel. It was drab, depressing and stank of days old food and burnt oil thrown out in and around dumpsters from the back of several businesses. His hair was a greasy mess hastily tied back, his shirt and pants were both stained with sweat, and whatever gunk was found in the chit hole alley and his left arm was bleeding in the wrist from where he could not stop itching.

"Where. Are. You?" He hissed to himself as he started to stratch again.

Tarre Priest Tarre Priest
 
Jay looked around and he followed a trail. Not a good trail... but a trail. His goal: Find this frakking Clawdite. He really, really hated hunts like this, but the Family needed some loose ends tied. Jay didn't really care if it was him or someone else who got this mark, but he wouldn't mind getting them.

"EW, I could use some tactics." The droid that helped control his corvette, EW-031 EW-031 , piped up in her usual, almost constantly happy manner.

"It's almost impossible to plan for this Jai."

"Jay."

"This isn't a public...."

"Just get to the point." He swore she was like the annoying little sister he never had sometimes.

"Ok. There's just way too many people there. Even if I was there in person with my optic I couldn't just spot them. I hate to say this, but it might be next to impossible." Jay just sighed. This was going to be a long night. Maybe he'd run into some help though.

Tarre Priest Tarre Priest Sero Valrel Sero Valrel
 
"Very well. Monitor the Mandalorian. If he attempts a double-cross, eliminate the target and bring him to me."

"A, uh... a Mando, ma'am?"

"Did I stutter?"

The eyes belonging to the blonde-headed man on the other end of the secure line went wide, and his mouth went slack in sudden surprise - realizing he'd made a mistake.

"No! No, ma'am. I just... we don't have the hard-"

The Donna cut him off.

"One of my enforcers is in the area. I'll provide him your details, and he will be in touch. Do not lose sight of them, Chezik, or I will lose sight of you."

Before the soldier could respond, The Donna reached out and flicked a switch on the front of the holo-screen, ending the transmission.

Ivory frowned, chewing on her lip for a brief span of heartbeats as she considered the trials ahead. Then, she reached out toward the holo-screen once more; keying in the contact code for Jai'galaar Gred Jai'galaar Gred . The direct transmission would go out on a secure line. She typed out a single word, then hit send...

<"Report.">

Then, she leaned back in her chair & waited. To pass the time, the raven-haired Boss of The Family lit her third cigarra in the past 20 minutes. With such sensitive information already in the wild, she was anxious to see the job complete...

One way, or another.

Tarre Priest Tarre Priest Sero Valrel Sero Valrel
 

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