Two Ravens, One Deal

[Chiasa Kritivaas]

Fenessa, some arse end corner of some arse end planet, too far from home for comfort.

Since they'd likely be out-gunned anyway, and the more blasters were present the more likely it was someone would fire one, Chiasa had opted to go the other route. It was the Twi'lek, the half-Ryn [member="Jen"] and the two RICO units. No other bodyguards or fire-power. Of course there would be the unseen Protectorate observer, and the Twi'lek did have both a life monitor and a secure tracking beacon on her person, and had ensured that those at home who she trusted knew exactly where she was going complete with an expected time for a message from her or else the cavalry would be called. Brazen didn't mean stupid.

The ship also housed all the requested product for probably-[member="Noah Corek"], except the Sandor. Alluded to profits were not enough to gain him possible access to the Red Raven system. Chiasa had already made a note to have Patricia watch who she sold the damn thing to. As usual, the blonde simply acted rather than thinking.

As they neared the coordinates for the meet, she glanced over at her young but brilliant companion and grinned.

"Ready to do something stupid? Remember, if we look at him funny; extreme force. If he doesn't like our hairstyles; extreme force. He's a twit, but if he's military he might have the women and children idiocy going on, though with mercs it's harder to say. Still, whatever happens we don't attack first. Our watcher is more important than this contact."

 

[Jen]

“Then it’s lucky for us that you have no hair, Chiasa.” Jennifer commented from her spot in her hammock, hanging up under the roof of the spaceship with a gold trimmed datapad in her hand, the other behind her head. Her usual soft and melodious voice heard, the pretend gangster dialect she had still heard in it. She turned her attention towards Chiasa with a slight smile seen upon her face.

Even though Jennifer was an established member of the Red Ravens belonging to the upper echelons of the syndicate it had been a while since she had been on any business trips like this one. Matter of factly, she was not too involved these days, but… It suited her. Credits were still flowing in and she lived peacefully, somewhat at least. Right? That of course also reminded her of the fact that she had not really seen Chiasa in a while, not discussed situations and how she was holding up. It had all been a mess since… The tragedy? Would that explain enough without touching the subject? She hoped so because Jennifer's own mind didn’t want to dwell further on that subject.

“Yea, agreed.” Jennifer said as if paying attention, acting it out rather well as the slight smile had never left her face. Her true attention now turning towards Chiasa, after all, she was happy to see her. “So, what do you think, by the way?” Jennifer added now that they were talking about hair anyway, ruffling her own recently blue dyed cut, one of the newer features to Jennifer’s appearance other than the obvious fact that she was still growing up, only a miniscule hint of the fact she lived in a drug filled environment seen on her face, the little make-up she used helping somewhat hiding the dark area under her eyes. And truth be told there was so many great doctors out there to fix such simple things…

Soon after her question was asked their ship broke atmosphere, fire starting to engulf the hull, pushed back by the ships shields as it plunged towards the ground and a few meters away from the designated coordinates, Jennifer holding onto dear life and the hammock, it all obviously made easier to handle due to the artificial gravity in the ship.

[member="Chiasa Kritivaas"] :: [member="Noah Corek"]​

 

[Noah Corek]

[member="Chiasa Kritivaas"] [member="Jen"]

In the barren landscape of Fenessa sat a single lone table. Well technically it wasn't alone, with three soldiers and/or mercenaries crowded around it. The biggest one standing at six feet and six inches was male and dressed in Hekler'Kok RA-1 Ranger Armor sans the helmet and instead wore a custom Hekler'Kok Tactical Mask with a skull pattern and was armed with a pair of custom Tenloss M9-T11's in a pair of shoulder holsters with a custom AR-35 slung over his back, the next tallest was a male as well and stood at around six foot one inch and was dressed in the same armor and mask except his mask was a different pattern and he was armed with a custom Tenloss RAB and the final one was a female standing much shorter that her comrades a about five foot seven inches and had the exact same armor and mask but with a different pattern and was armed with a custom Tenloss Type 8 SMG. For now they waited for the shuttle to land and deliver the cargo they wanted.

 

[Sarge Potteiger]

[member="Noah Corek"] [member="Chiasa Kritivaas"] [member="Jen"]

Sarge had never been to Fennesa. In fact, he'd never planned on being to Fennesa. But now he was there, amid the mountainous terrain that characterized this otherwise unremarkable world. The coordinates lead to a table surrounded by three mercenaries, Corek no doubt one of them. He'd gotten to the location the day before and set himself up on a rocky slope, hidden from view amid some sparse, reedy brush that so often struggled to eek out an existence on moutainsides.

His blast resistant mouthguard in place beneath the NVGs he'd worn to make sure no one got the drop on him during the lightless night, he adjusted the way his marksmans rifle settled across his chest. Held in place by a drop sling, it really wasn't going anywhere... but it kept him from getting stiff. Mostly. Adjusting how his hiking boot covered feet were set on the rocks below him, he looked up as a shuttle passed overhead, no doubt coming to a landing nearby.

It was time to see what Corek was up to and why.

And the only people who would know he was here were the Ravens themselves. But they'd not realize where, most likely. Felt good to get out. Sneak about.

It had been too long.

 

[Chiasa Kritivaas]

"It does make getting ready in the mornings easier."

The Twi'lek agreed with a grin at the comment about her own lack of hair. She scrutinized the girl after her question. [member="Jen"] was growing up. She wondered briefly if it was good for the girl to grow up within a criminal organization. Better than many childhoods though, and there were people to look after her. Chiasa for one.

"I like it, it looks good on you, not everyone could pull it off. It's not orange but.."

The Twi'lek shrugged, the glimmer in her eye communicating clearly that she was teasing. As she landed the ship she caught sight of the table and the three heavily armoured and armed individuals around it.

"Goodness. Aren't they serious little bunnies.."

Chiasa for her part was wearing a black microdress with cut outs along either side and because she would make a few concessions based on surroundings, black leather knee high boots with only a small, unspiked heel. Looking at her it would be obvious she was unarmed.

"Well, let's go say hello. We'll leave the merchandise in the ship for now I think... In fact I think I'll even leave the droids here."

A smile spread across her face. Yes, that appealed. How foolish they would look in their dramatic gear with their dramatic tableau all arranged only to be confronted with the elegant Twi'lek and her genius, punk companion. It had a lovely little twist of absurdity to it.

With a laugh she thumbed the switch to lower the exit ramp. Rising, she moved down the ramp and across the rocky ground. Let's see, she knew his height and weight from his file, and she knew his call sign, so. The taller one with the skull mask. Her face was pleasantly composed as if meeting three grim faced mercenaries on an uncontrolled planet was something she did everyday. Hell, this sort of thing was very nearly commonplace by this point.

"[member="Noah Corek"] I presume. And look, just as your message suggested, all prepared for extreme force. That's lovely, but not precisely how we do business. I do hope you're also ready to use your words like a real businessman since that's what you asked us here for.."

There was an art to being dramatic. If you overshot it, you just looked foolish.

 

[Jen]

“I bet.” Jennifer said once they had landed, slowly getting out of the hammock. “But it’s not like I set mine or anything.” She continued, ruffling her hair a bit out of habit, rough in structure as always, almost as if she had sprayed it with an immense amount of hairspray.

Turning her attention back towards her datapad she let out a quiet laugh, starting to text back to whatever it was she had going on it. She was probably browsing the Holo or CryptNet. For the occasion today she wore a tight armor weave suit under her clothes. that she had to say really did remind her of some of the fashion style choices that Chiasa sometimes sported. It was… Nice, but even though Jennifer was quite a confident person she had decided to layer herself with her normal clothing on top of it. Sporting her usual mechanic like trousers and a large wool sweater, black with small white dot motives of birds seen on it. The armor weave suit could at times be seen around her neck and shoulders under the sweater due to its large neck collar.

Looking out of the window Jennifer had to agree with Chiasa’s comment, following her outside, scanning their surroundings very briefly, checking the time on her gold chrono and then decided to return her attention back down towards her look marble white, gold rimmed, datapad once more, tapping on it with a slight smirk every now and then, not seeming to pay a lot of attention to the three heavily armed persons for now..

[member="Chiasa Kritivaas"] :: [member="Sarge Potteiger"] :: [member="Noah Corek"]​

 

[Noah Corek]

[member="Chiasa Kritivaas"] [member="Jen"] [member="Sarge Potteiger"]

The middle man sighed as he looked to the two women as they exited their shuttle which landed about two dozen meters away, the downdraft of the shuttle as it landed was powerful enough to make the three mercenaries trench-coats sway in the artificial breeze. "It might not be how you do business but it is how my employer does business Ms. Kritivaas, born on Ryloth twenty-nine years ago, sold off to a famous dancing house at a young age left their employment when the patrons wanted a little, more. After that you struck it big becoming the Minister of Diplomacy and the Vice-President of the Red Ravens." His mask then turned towards Jen. "And you Jennifer Phoenix AKA Jen AKA Convict #68364, eighteen, just three years older than my daughter, born to a Ryn mother and a Human Mando father somewhere in Mandalorian space. Not much more after that until you popped up on the Red Ravens and therefore everyone else radar." The skull masked man then looked behind them to see if anyone else was coming out of the ship and after nearly a half minute of waiting he sighed. "I'm guessing you either didn't inform Ms.Garter of my employer asking her to come or you did and she refused. Though I'm more inclined to believe the first theory. No matter. Where is the equipment my employer ordered."

 

[Sarge Potteiger]

Sarge brought the rifle up, scope honing in on Blue and Orange. He'd long ago learned how to lip read, and while it wasn't an exact science, he could get the gist of it. But what he couldn't do was lip read a mask. Which was annoying. But body language said more than lips, and right now these three looked like they considered themselves in total control. Technically, not wrong.

But also a bit naive.

Perhaps it was posturing. He certainly hoped it was. They did seem to bristle a little with exasperation. Which was amusing.

Tilting his head, he panned his eye over to the Twi'lek and her companion; who didn't seem to be paying attention. Likely a slicer. They always had their nose in some tech during heavily armed meetings. But the female from Ryloth was clearly the one in charge, and judging by the lift of her chin was overly confident. She'd probably figured her information gave her an edge, which meant she wasn't an actually careful sort.

She was cautious, not careful.

Huge gulf of difference there. A faint noise, nearly inaudibly even to himself on his perch, emanated from his throat. This was... interesting.

[member="Noah Corek"] [member="Chiasa Kritivaas"] [member="Jen"]

 

[Chiasa Kritivaas]

"Are we supposed to be impressed Mr Corek? My information is still contained in the dance halls unencrypted databanks and my relationship with the Ravens is well known. A herald announced it at a rather boring gala the other week. Reporters were present."

An amused smile spread across her face.

"Your attempts to slice our network to get [member="Jen"]s information weren't bad though. I take it you realized the bits about strangling a Hutt, holding the Senate for ransom and winning last years Bolo-ball tournament all by herself were for your benefit. Good job. Try not to make a habit of it, it's rather hard to convince our slicers to leave well enough alone when someone comes poking where they shouldn't. It's a matter of pride for them."

"Ms Garter does not attend business meetings."

"As for your equipment, the majority of it is loaded on repulsor lifts within the ship. I should make this very clear Mr Corek. We've been given reason not to trust you. We are selling to you because the product we have brought could be easily obtained by a third party and passed off to you in any case. So, they come with this warning. The technology is patented. If we see it pop up in your product you will face legal repercussions from both Stargo and the Red Ravens themselves."

"You had mentioned a possible contract. So far this looks rather like a waste of my time. If perhaps you'd care to stop posturing and get down to it? If not I'm sure I can always find some other way to make this trip worthwhile.. We are not far from the Fringe after all. How curious that you choose to meet us so close to them rather than the more appropriate middle ground between the two of us by the way."

This man was an amateur. He laid out all his cards, none of which were faces and expected his opponent to fold. Hardly. The Twi'lek was likely to leave soon if he did not get down to it. She wasn't sure how he spent his days, but her time was valuable.

[member="Noah Corek"] [member="Sarge Potteiger"]

 

[Jen]

As Noah started to address her her grin simply grew a little wider, still focusing on the datapad in her hands as she finished up whatever it was she was doing, her attitude calm and collected as she seemingly ignored him. At least until she had finally finished her business on the datapad, she put it into one of her many pockets attached to her trousers, her gaze turning to look towards Noah, not opening her mouth to speak, but instead silently looking at him with a smirk, nodding a few times as Chiasa started replying.

“Yea you did miss those. I’m quite offended, masked one. That Limmie Tournament was really a special one; I do count it as one of my more favorable achievements. But looking at how all of this stands you won't be getting the Sandro.”

She continued to smile, simply waiting for this to finish or evolve. She had no immediate opinions or concerns she needed to voice, so she stayed silent.

[member="Chiasa Kritivaas"] :: [member="Sarge Potteiger"] :: [member="Noah Corek"]​