The Tenloss Job (Corporate Raid)

[RC 212]

Nar Shaada

[member="Popo"]

[member="Formorta"] [member="Wes Rykker"] [member="Svante Selanno"] [member="The Matador"]

She had quite the band with her. This job required it, but what was more, Nar Shaada was Hala's old stomping ground, where she;d run with the Red Devil Cartel back in those days. A few Red Devils were still around and the Red Draft Cantina was still open and doing well.

Hala stood outside with a bag of guns and a smoke, catching up with old friends. In her right hand a Cigar and in her left, a bottle of Corellia's finest. Outside also were rows of ZRX Speeder Bikes which she'd managed to dig out of her personal armory.

"Quite the op going on Hala," her old Rodian friend Rakal said, taking a swig from his bottle.

Hala nodded. She was clad in her full Spacer Armor, looking every part sinister. But the best part was what she had in the bag. Masks, or prominent faces in the galaxy. She couldn't have this hit traced back to her, so she had them custom made.

She was gonna rob Tenloss of all their fighter designs. And tweak them for her own.

Bank robber style.

"Yes. Yes it is."

"Sure you don't want to come back and join the Red Devils again?"

She glanced sideways, Servos in her armor whining as she did.

"No, sorry man. Got better thngs going on nowadays. But if you need me, you know where to find me. Besides, looks like you have Beggars Row locked down anyways."

 

[Simone]

The thing about raids run by any cartel is that there was always a whisper somewhere along the line that slipped out into the world beyond. Might not contain details about the d itself, but there were always hints of things, like where they were gathering. Nothing like this ever slipped past the zeltron's notice. Nar Shadda's criminal activity was hers to monitor, report back on and most importantly, disrupt where disruptions were required.

Today was a disrupting day.

Opposite the Red Draft Cantina, perched on a balcony halfway up the building and cast in shadow, Simone watched the gathering, PPV recording every face that dared show. Her eyes ran over the speeder bikes, ears pricked for every word she could grab. "Record message." she murmured, her comm link clicked affirmative.

"Red Devil Cartel gathering, destination unknown but they're geared for a fight. All hands that are able, be on alert and ready to move. Simone out."

The comm clicked again. "Transmit on encrypted Undergound lines." Only those with links to the Underground would recieve the message but even from then the word would spread. In the meantime, she leant on the railings, lighting up a cigarette and watched everything below her.

[member="Kael Rose"] [member="Popo"]

 

[Jorga the Hutt]

"Is have question."

A Hutt trundled up to [member="Hala Jast"]. A lascivious eye slithered over the guns, the bikes, the booze, and the curvaceous power armour, in no particular order.

"Is good bikes, yeh? Is much good. Jorga buy."

One hand rested on the nearest bike's saddle with a smack of ooze. The bike's repulsors whined under the additional weight.

"Jorga buy alladis, yeh?"

 

[Formorta]

One job down, one to go, at least it was a steady business, and keeping cover as just a normal mercenary or assassin for hire made for easy travel as well. That's not to say Formorta was no longer a gun for hire, she just now answered to a slightly higher and unseen chain of command, no order, not officers , just a self knowledge of who the enemy was, who to kill and for what purpose.

Cloaked and hidden from site the masked assassin approached the small gathering outside of the apply named cantina, even though hidden from sight keeping her hand on weapon, ready to act at the slightest provocation. Personally Formorta did not like meeting out in the open, to many possible ways someone could interfere and no privacy, but the person who had advertised the job made it fairly clear where the meeting place was.

The young woman came within arms length of her potential employer, her stealth field and other equipment shutting down, revealing the typically dressed assassin, head to toe in a grey cloak, carrying enough weapons to arm a squad, "You must be [member="Hala Jast"]... I hear you have a job open".

[member="Jorga the Hutt"] l [member="Simone"]

 

[Kael Rose]

A few blocks from the Red Draft Cantina Kael Rose was downing a couple of shots and watching a swoop race. He had a thousand credits on the Lucky Loth-cat.

"Come on Lucky! Come on Lucky!" He said openly amongst a crowd of other gamblers. A herglic cheered for the Mirthful Mynock while a Trandoshan cheered for the Cutthroat Cannok. Both of them were keeping pace with the Lucky Loth-cat and the trio of drunkard strangers were getting more and more animated as the race was coming closer and closer to a conclusion.

"Red Devil Cartel gathering, destination unknown but they're geared for a fight. All hands that are able, be on alert and ready to move. Simone out." The message came through a Kael's encrypted comm as the Mirthful Mynock pulled through.

"Karking hell." Kael cursed, then tore up his ticket and stormed out. "Agent Rose headed to intercept." Kael hollared over his comm to [member="Simone"]. Perhaps he was unaware of who she was, for the writer couldn't remember if names were exchanged in that other thread or not. Either way, thing would probably get interesting and awkward later.

[member="Simone"]
[member="Jorga the Hutt"]
[member="Formorta"]
[member="Hala Jast"]

 

[Starsha Tavik]

Tenloss wasn't blind, nor were they stupid. Power struggles were commonplace on Nar Shaddaa, especially when they changed the status quo. Tenloss had been top dog for a long time which meant more often than not multiple groups were gearing up for trouble on a frequent basis. This time, though, was different.

They had no idea when, where, or who, but the whispers were consistent. Something was coming. Something big enough to ping their radar, but small enough to stay under wraps. The higher-ups within the company had stated it could either be a distraction for something else or potentially a professional job. The company wasn't exactly new to the concept of corporate warfare, often instigating raids and thefts themselves at times, so the whispers and hearsay hadn't caught the attention of corporate leadership as of yet, but a threat was a threat, even if just a rumor. Assets had been moved, but those had been few in number. Some extra personnel and a bit of spare equipment was the primary shift with such a low-grade threat. The only major asset moved was a single woman: Lieutenant Starsha Tavik.

Less assigned and more caught in transit, she'd been halfway through a transfer to another station with her armor when her orders were changed as the transport came out of hyperspace over Nar Shaddaa. Taken from the ship and dropped into a warehouse of some kind, she was more or less left to her own devices and had passed the time unpacking and prepping her suit of M1-01 Powered Armor.

With the threat of attack so low and nothing heard as of yet, she felt confident in running a few diagnostics on her suit to kill time. It was beaten and battered, but well maintained despite all the fighting and conflict the two had seen over the years. She set the socket wrench on the table next to her with a clatter and locked the suit's vambrace back into position, duraplast fingers and mechanical muscles letting her lock the plating into place with a short shove rather than utilizing yet another power tool.

Satisfied with the positioning, she glanced at the small device hanging out of the armor as it chimed quietly. Diagnostics were now finished for the most part, which meant she could move on to calibrating and fine tuning the suit.

[member="Kael Rose"] @Formorta @Jorga the Hutt @Simone @Hala Jast

 

[Gorba the Hutt]

<The Red Ravens? Gone. The Black Sun? Gone. Bareesh will outlive the Exchange too> reiterated Gorba, waving a dismissive hand as he sludged through a corridor of his sail barge floating over Nar Shaddaa toward the hovering city of New Vertica.

<Yesh, great kajidii> growled the Klatooinian majordomo, Brutus. <But theshe othersh added to the Cabal: the Jade Triad, the Hawk's Circle. They are not Hutt. Neither ish Exchange. I fear they will betray you.>

Gorba snorted phlegmily, his one good eye narrowing irritably. <Of course they will. You do not think I know this?>

<Of course, great kajidii. I overstep my place.>

<Hmph>

Still, what Brutus said was true. The other members of the Cabal would constantly seek to undermine him, even as they worked together. The Collective may have been ousted from Nar Shaddaa, leaving the Cabal more or less in control over the planet, but the individual cost had been greatest to the Bareesh. And now Helix ran the Network Access. Troublesome schutta. Troublesome.

Gorba rubbed his belly, musing inwardly. Better a member of the Cabal than any other group. Measures could be taken should one member step out of line. To say nothing of the benefits from doing repeat business. The Coratanni ran SIN Inc. A company that spanned the galaxy. Helix had practically turned the Pentastar Alignment into their own private panopticon. And the Exchange was... the Exchange.

If Bareesh were to grow beyond their allies in the Cabal, they needed to expand. Kazbog looked to the past for answers, to buried treasure. Yet it had been days since Gorba had last heard from their expedition to Kor Bareesh. Hmph. Gorba looked elsewhere.

Carnovia. Home of the accursed Vermilic kajidic. Rivals for centuries. Now that he had allies in the Cabal and in Nagoon of Circumtore, he needed find a catalyst to put their forces into motion.

His thoughts lingered on a dank cell beneath his palace on Nal Hutta, and on the prisoner who languished within. The Dashade assassin would have his uses soon enough.

A wicked grin split Gorba's scarred features, causing Brutus to cock his head at an angle in the way the Klatoonians did.

<Your Eminence?>

Gorba waved his hand. <Nothing. Come, the race is about to begin. The Blue Devils have Elis in the race.>

He knew Brutus had a thing for the attractive Mandalorian swoop racer. To his pleasure, Brutus looked away and chewed on his lip with a massive underbite.

Gorba laughed phlegmily.

[member="Slevin Thawne"] | [member="Helix Syndicate"] | @Ar'ekk | [member="The Prince"] | [member="Yu Praji"] | [member="Aver Brand"]

 

[Subject 37]

[member="Gorba the Hutt"]

Nikolas stepped into the docking bay, adjusting the cuff of his jacket with a slight frown.

The inside of the Sail Barge was about as gloomy as he expected, the dank corridor lit by only a single light that seemed to flicker on above. His frown continued as he glanced up at the flickering bulb, his eyebrow perking as he heard the shuffled stomps of a Gammorrean quickly approaching him. The fat little piggy attempted to swagger, though by it's expression Nikolas guessed that it likely had gout or some other form of disease that made it difficult to walk.

A disgusted sneer pulled across his lips as the alien wandered up to him, it's guttural language squeaking from it's throat. "Ugh."

Nikolas waved his hand.

"Stop." The executioner slowly shook his head, silencing the creature. It stared at him, expression a mix of astonishment and what he supposed was anger. Nikolas could barely stand looking at the creature, if he had to hear it speak as well blood might fall far earlier than expected. "Take me to Gorba."

The piggy was about to speak again when Nikolas raised a finger. "Quietly."

It stared at him for a moment, but then simply turned around and began to trot away. The Executioner gave it one last look of disgust, tugging at the bottom of his jacket before he fell into step behind the creature. His mother had told him to try his best to be diplomatic, but...well so far he wasn't all that inclined to such decisions.

 

[Tathra Khaeus]

The Matador had been walking for close to an hour before the Red Draft Cantina ​came into view, Cerberus had been hired by [member="Hala Jast"] to assist in raid on Tenloss. He arrived with a group of four Tol Varen Militia warriors. Two on either side of him, escorting him to the location where he assumed his employer would be.

​Various neon colours erupted from stalls, advertisements and vehicles as they flew by overhead. Nar Shaddaa was a busy place, many types of people going about their inferior way of living. He couldn't help but have this interpretation of life outside of a warriors, should trouble come their way. What help did they have if none but their own, and what did that count for if they could not fend for themselves.

He could dwell on the insignificance of living without discipline or a focus on self betterment after he had finished this job. His mind refocused, spotting Hala not too far from the entrance. There he spotted several other various figures standing apart from each other, however their body language implied they were in a group. Thus likely his companions.

​He gestured for his brethren to lower their weapons, it was an intimidating sight. Seeing multiple Mandalorian warriors approach, plated in Beskar. Upon approach, the crunch of metal could be heard as the heavy metal titan stopped a few feet from the group. As far as he was aware, his employer had hired him in case things got a shade darker than anticipated.

​"I have arrived on request of Hala Jast."​ His slightly filtered voice echoed slightly in the open air. However, the sound of the business of Nar Shaddaa muffled it slightly, allowing only those nearby to hear him.

[member="Kael Rose"] | [member="Gorba the Hutt"] | [member="Starsha Tavik"] | [member="Formorta"] | [member="Simone"]

 

[Horus Vizsla]

Horus Vizsla was one of the few of the Vizsla clan not caught up in a civil war on the planet of Mandalore. Perhaps that made him a traitor. Perhaps that ate at him at night. Or perhaps not. The Empire had given Horus new purpose, an order to impose over the chaos that had once been his life. Which made it odd that he was assigned to this mission. There was nothing of order on this Huttese Sail Barge. A sight of hedonistic debauchery, as patrons of the Hutt's good graces indulged themselves in every way imaginable.

Horus did not leave himself out of course. He had 'bit the glit' so to speak, and was experiencing a telepathic high and mental acuity that made him fairly certain he was a genius. The next Death Star would be made by Horus, if he had only enough glitterstim. But there would be time for that later. Right now he was on the job. Part of that job was to blend in, which Horus did perhaps too well. The other part was to secure an audience with the local Hutt, or perhaps his majordomo. A bulk order was needed. Deciding if he did anymore blending in he'd have to become a piece of furniture the man went to the Bareesh Kajidic's retainers, a Ka'jainsaNikto.

"Hey, buddy, I need your help." Horus began.

"The servers are about twenty meters right." The retainer responded dryly.

"No no no, I'm not worried about today. Your bosses product is good, and I represent a client who wants to make a bulk order. I need to talk to the Hutt in charge, or whoever he's delegated sales to." Horus responded.

"How large of a shipment are we talking?" The Nikto rose a scaly brow questioningly.

"A recurring order of a month's supply of Lesai. You think your boss'll be interested in that?" Hrorus responded, and the Nikto looked at him with continuing curiosity.

"Wait here." The Nikto responded, and headed off to contact his superiors. Far be it from a simple retainer to make the decision on whether or not to bring him into [member="Gorba the Hutt"] 's presence.

 

[RC 212]

Team Tenloss: [member="Simone"] [member="Gorba the Hutt"] [member="Starsha Tavik"] [member="Kael Rose"] [member="Popo"]

Not Sure: [member="Jorga the Hutt"] [member="Horus Vizsla"]

Team Jast: [member="Formorta"] [member="The Matador"]

The Red Draft

Hala nodded at Jorga as he asked about the bikes.

"ZRX's. The best out on the market right now, made by yours truly. I'll gift you a lot of em if you help me out."

She turned to Formorta and The Matador, the two mercs she'd hired on the low, using the Cartel as a front. After all everyone knew she was an old Chapter President. She couldn't go smearing Jast Shipwright Co's name just yet. She scooped up the bag of guns and motioned them to come inside, where they would be ill overheard in the din of the swoop bike party.

"Job is simple ladies and gents. We ride down to the Corporate HQ building of Tenloss. Don our mask's and then bust up in the place. I was planning on taking a sewer entrance until we get right underneath the main hub, then blast up through the floor and slice as much data as we can, then bug out. Looking for minimum collateral, but if they shoot, we'll shoot em dead."

She opened the bag, revealing the faces of many famous folks from throughout the galaxy.

"I'm going to be Arisa Yune. She's wanted enough, so it'll be a hilarious joke. Take one, pass the bag around. Any questions?"

 

[Formorta]

Neither her nor [member="Hala Jast"] said anything while outside, a simple gesture being all that was needed for, in her mind, the job to start, giving a short nod to the women before entering closely behind. She was not very keen on the group bought by the [member="The Matador"] guy, having her fair share of scuffles with mandos in the past, but more men on their side meant less potential enemies shooting at her, if they could spot the phantom assassin that is.

".... simple, small time frame, in and out... I like it... though no job is ever simple.... I'll pass on the masks, I have my own... also I don't like being seen at all.... as for weapons, already locked and loaded". She grabbed the bag and passed it around, not bothering to take a one, even though her nickname would say otherwise, silly things where just not her style, besides, anything that affected ones aim was a no no for her.

[member="Hala Jast"] l [member="The Matador"]

 

[Gorba the Hutt]

Gorba's Sail Barge

A Gamorrean whose name Gorba could not remember shuffled up to him. <Eminence. Someone here to see you.>

Gorba's eye flicked past the porcine to the human man waiting in the shadows. Hmph. The Coratanni.

<Fine.> Gorba dismissed the guard with a wave.

Before [member="Slevin Thawne"] could approach, another lackey stepped forward, a Nikto who started yammering about Lesai. Gorba grumbled. <Giles, take care of it.>

A goggled Trandoshan detached himself from Gorba's entourage. <But of courssse, your grace.>

* * *

A few moments later, the Trandoshan came face to face with [member="Horus Vizsla"] in the lower decks.

He hoisted a Golan Arms flechette launcher over one shoulder and peered at the fellow.

"Alright then, let's get cracking shall we? You wanted some monthly Lesai, was it? How much?"

 

[Artorian Solaire]

[member="Gorba the Hutt"]@Formorta@Hala Jast[member="The Matador"] (if i read this wrong please do tell me)

Artorian made his way onto the sail barge of the infamous Gorba The hutt. This wasn't a normal kind of job for him to take...however he had heard that during this raid there may be access to a bounty among the ranks. Walking onto the sail barge he looked around. Of course he was escorted by guards as no hutt ever let themselves stay in the open unguarded. walking down the iron barges walkway he came face to face with the Slug himself. "I hear there's a High paying job open?" he asked him looking straight at him. He wasn't truthfully sure the Hutt wouldn't try and off him so he kept his wits about him, keeping the others in his preferential vision

 

[Starsha Tavik]

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

CALIBRATING HAND ACTUATORS
TESTING...
TESTING...
TESTING COMPLETE...
FUNCTION 100%

CALIBRATING ELBOW ACTUATORS
TESTING...
TESTING...
TESTING COMPLETE...
FUNCTION 100%

CALIBRATING SHOULDER ACTUATORS
TESTING...
TESTING...
TESTING COMPLETE...
ERROR 224A
FUNCTION 86%
MAINTENANCE REQUIRED

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx


Calibration was an important aspect of operating a true suit of powered armor and any real suit pilot knew it was an integral part of combat preparation and maintenance. She'd seen some of the fancier suits other companies made and while they were nice, agile, and often designed for the finesse of single combat, they wouldn't stand a second on the front lines. Her suit, however, was designed for the carnage of war, not to flick a laser sword about her head like a fool.

Which meant, in turn, that the shoulder actuator needed to be at full functionality. A sticking actuator could mean the difference between smearing an enemy across the field or that enemy getting a shot off with an anti-tank missile at her suit. She'd had near misses with AT weaponry, but had seen what the more powerful ones could do. She had absolutely no desire to experience such a thing herself.

Thankfully, a 224A error simply meant the system discovered it only needed a bit of lubrication and probably some touch-ups on the fittings. She picked up a spanner and a jar of lubricant and got to work.

[member="Artorian Solaire"] [member="Gorba the Hutt"] @Formorta @Hala Jast [member="Horus Vizsla"] [member="The Matador"] [member="Slevin Thawne"] [member="Kael Rose"] [member="Jorga the Hutt"] [member="Simone"]

 

[Horus Vizsla]

[member="Gorba the Hutt"]

Horus was joined quickly enough by a Trandoshan sporting a some goggles and a dated, if not classic Flechette launcher.

"Nice piece." Horus complimented at the Trandoshan as he arrived. "My client wants a regular shipment of enough to keep a team of a couple dozen going for the entire month. How quiet do you think you can move shipments?" Horus asked the Trandoshan as others on the barge snorted spice, danced with the 'staff' and readied themselves for the coming swoop race.

 

[Tathra Khaeus]

​The Matador already wore a heavy helm, he had no need of the bag of masks. However, as he held it by its sling to inspect it; he felt a tinge of amusement as he observed his contents. He didn't recognise any of the faces within the bag, he threw it to the next in line. He made his way over to the speeder. He saw that there was enough for him men, but perhaps a larger force was unwise for such an operation.

​"Where will we rendezvous following the mission? My men can cover our retreat once the mission is complete if necessary." ​The Matador informed Hala, examining the small group of warriors before them. He couldn't assume much regarding the levels of protection at this facility they were hitting but he assumed given the lack of preparation or information he was being given the mission was likely low risk. The Matador started powering up the engine of one of the speeder bikes, awaiting a response from their employer.

​[member="Starsha Tavik"] | [member="Formorta"] | [member="Hala Jast"] | [member="Kael Rose"] | [member="Simone"] |

 

[Kael Rose]

Kael continued onwards towards the location of the call, and came about a kilometer away from the Red Draft Cantina. Outside there was a Hutt. Not a Hutt's escort, or a shell hutt on a platform, but just a Hutt slithering around under his own power. He had a hand on one of the speeders, the repulsors visibly taxed by the increase in mass from the Hutt's arm. He seemed to be talking to a woman, who was followed quickly behind by a couple of professionals. Very noticeably there were four men clad in leather armor and openly carrying what seemed to be unpowered axes and broad swords.

They stood out quite a bit.

Kael decided to park his speeder bike and light up a death stick before pulling out his commlink.

"This is Rose. I think I see the trouble. Not a lot of bodies so far, but there's a Hutt with them. Might be more coming. Anybody else ready to intercept?"

[member="Simone"] [member="Jorga the Hutt"] [member="Hala Jast"] [member="The Matador"] [member="Starsha Tavik"] [member="Formorta"]

 

[Simone]

Simone's eyes tracked the group inside and she sighed. She couldn't get in there even if she wanted too, her face was known the the Red Draft cantina and it was not at all welcome. Some bitterness about an intercepted cargo of spice. Whatever, she hardly cared. She perked up as her comm chimed and Kael's voice tracked over.

"Think you can get in there sunshine? See what the score is. I'd go myself, but they, uh, don't like me much. If you can't get close enough to hear, get close enough to follow, something tells me their not gonna come back out the front door."

[member="Kael Rose"] [member="Hala Jast"] [member="The Matador"] @Formorta @Starsha Tavik@ Jorga the Hutt

 

[Gorba the Hutt]

​

[member="Horus Vizsla"]

"Isn't she?"

The goggled Trandoshan pulled the flechette launcher off his shoulder and started petting it with his claws as he listened.

"A couple dozen per month'll be just one packed freighter. Shipping will not be a problem, but you want it under the radar? Afraid that'll be extra, mate. A lot extra. But don't you worry, we at Bareesh always meet our quotas. So let's see here: twenty-four humanoids, a dose per week, four weeks. Shipments on the sly'll be the charge and a half. Plus another half for handling. Looks like your totaling out at a nice 100,000 credits a month, mate. You good for it?"