Weekend Treasure Hunt Infinity: At Last We Will Have Revenge (Open to All)

[Jorus Merrill]

OOC:​

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You do not have to be part of a Major Faction to join this, have fun, influence history, and win stuff.​

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As per Flagship rules, when this thread reaches 400 posts -- a mere four Dominions! -- one lucky faction will walk away with the right to submit something truly transcendent. The One Sith, First Order, and Galactic Alliance have already expressed interest, but -- as per Flagship rules -- this thread is open to all characters and factions. Any major faction can win this.​

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I'll be loosely DM'ing this thread, in the sense that when a given scene/objective's action flags, I'll post new objectives and plot directions as needed. This is a long-term quest for a historical ship, whose identity I'll keep quiet for now. Suffice it to say, it's worth having, and not just for people who like what Chaos calls fleeting.​

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For reference, here are the Flagship Rules:​

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Spoiler

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1. Only Major Factions may own Flagships.

2. Flagships are a prefix located in the Star Wars: Open Role-Playing forum.

3. The requirements of the Flagship thread are as follows:

a. The thread must be a minimum of 400 posts.

b. There must be at least 7 writers actively involved in the thread.

c. The thread is public and is open to any other Major Faction to join.

d. The production - or possession - of the Flagship must be the thread's major focal point.

5. No player may captain a ship over 3,000 meters without the Major Faction Owner's consent.

6. No ship over 3,000 meters will be approved for any Major Faction without a completed Flagship thread.

7. Each Flagship must be labeled Unique.

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While there won't be any participation trophies, effort will yield benefits -- and you know I can deliver the goods. However, I'll be designing the stages/scenes/sets of opportunities to maximize opportunities for character stuff, and I'd encourage you to consider character development your prize. In the 23-thread history of the Weekend Treasure Hunts, I believe there's only been two or three reports, none of them within the last year or so. Let's keep it that way.​

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This is not simply an opportunity.​

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IC:​

STAGE ONE​

Seeking weapons against the One Sith and the First Order, the Underground has sent agents to the legendary planet Zeltros. But as is ever the case, someone's talked. Maybe a cell got busted, maybe a recruiter guessed wrong, but however it happened, the word is out. Now rumors of a gigantic treasure ship have brought every scumsucking Rimrunner and grody merc in the 'verse...not that they needed an excuse to hit up Zeltros. Agents of every great power are here in force, making quiet inquiries, reading minds, cutting throats, climbing through skyscraper windows to find what their masters demand.

Three statues, three clues, any one of which could lead to the greatest payday and weapon of war the modern galaxy has ever seen.

***​

Soldiers of fortune and operatives alike have converged on the following locations in hopes of finding and claiming one of these statues.

• The Paradise -- A vibrant, irresistible cantina. Anything goes at the Paradise. Word on the street is that the cafarels have a secret, and they're not easily impressed, no matter how sincerely they smile. The statue is a bronzium falcon, on display above the bar.

• The Grand Bazaar -- Neon lights and pheromone breezes, beads and feathers and gold. One of the three statues is about to go on auction: a life-size woman, beautifully carved and oddly light. But who wants to wait around for an auction, on this night of all nights?

• The Aurodium Manwench Casino -- Pazaak, Sabacc, and a shockboxing prizefight. Fortunes are made and lost here, under hot lights and a veneer of velvet and chrome. The third statue is in the high-tech casino vault, twenty metres directly underneath the fight. The statue is a fist-sized blue-stone sphere carved with a language nobody understands, glowing with an inner light.

***​

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OOC: Note that Stage One will move to Stage Two, a separate scene and set of objectives, when people are good and ready, meaning once activity dies down.

 

[Coren Starchaser]

Agents getting burnt? That was no good. The strike force Coren worked with employed a lot of the Underground, on top of the Warbirds, his home unit, as well as members of the Alliance. Coren was part of a diverse group, and he had a lot of people under his charge. All the lives mattered to this not-Jedi. He had heard a few things through the grapevine of the Underground’s network and was setting out in the Tachyon Rising, the ship was being called the Tequila Sunrise, and as always, Coren Starchaser was under an alias, David Hyman. Yeah, maybe not his best work, but whatever, he had a short time to get to work.

His call went through channels, and hopefully to the Alliance. Commander Nemo Ven would put the word out, but the quick freighter, working on its new powerplant, had arrived at Zeltros fairly quickly. Porter was aboard the ship and receiving data for Coren, the pilot set up his belt, his Power Nine, from Merr-Sonn on his right hip, and the bloodsteal hilted, orange bladed lightaber on his other. A leather jacket was about as strong as he was getting for protection.

When the ship touched down, Coren lead his droid into the streets. Time to get to work. The man had been working on a few things for his ship, and had taken a few levels in hacking skills. The lead Porter had? Manwench Casino.

Hopefully they had Sloppy Joes.

“Stick close, Port.”

 

[Harmon Taldan]

Harm was finding out that there were definite advantages to being outside of the chain of command. True, Harmon had pretty much thrown his lot in with the Galactic Alliance, they had helped him off of Ord Vaug when he crash landed, and they provided very nicely for contractors. Still, being what amounted to a freelancer allowed him the freedom to choose where he would and would not go. He was a big fan of the stated mission goal of the Alliance, to eradicate the Sith. While he didn't believe that such would ever come to complete fruition, the fact that they controlled the largest area of the galaxy at present was a travesty to the free peoples. As such, he had decided that he should take the fight to them on Commenor. That was until he was informed of some shady action going on nearby, on Zeltros. Commander Ven hadn't been very specific on what was going on, but he'd told Harm enough that he changed his flight plans. He had been about to spend a month coming into Commenor's system on a ballistic course, having downjumped from hyper outside of the system, so he doubted he would attract any attention with his upjump. A relatively short trip later, he was in Zelrtos's system, awaiting clearance to land.

Harm looked through the listing of ships currently in port, nothing screamed out at him as a distinct enemy or ally, though he knew some parts of the Underground used falsified transponder codes to go about under authorities noses. With a shrug, he decided to play it safe and load up in his standard loadout (link in sig). He was liking the new armor he'd acquired, but felt that an added cloak was prudent. He wasn't a stiff, stick-in-the-mud jedi, so he didn't need the white armor to be visible, just there. He landed the Solace at a spaceport on the surface of Zeltros, paid the exorbitant rate for a month of secure dock privileges, then set off into Zeltros. He had a contact on the planet from a previous life, she should be able to give him something about what was going on. Undoubtedly she'd be 'crowd watching' at the Paradise, so he moved off in that direction, keeping his hands near his pistols just in case.

 

[Marcus Tritum]

The building across from Manwench Casino....
Basement level.

Canton wiped a bead of sweat off his brow. Hot. Why the hell was it hot down here? Wasn't this supposed to be Zeltros, planet of pleasure? Muttering to himself about the lack of proper air conditioning, Dak checked the settings on the laser drill again. Properly calibrated, aimed at the wall. Yep.

"She's good to go," he rasped, moving aside so his companion could do whatever it was that engineering specialists did.

Dak crouched, hands on his knees, glancing nervously at the stairs every so often. "I'll check the movement sensors."

Again. For the third time.

Look, this was a sensitive operation. A little while back, the big brass of Darkwater captured some Hapan chick. Used what they called 'enhanced interrogation' on her. Didn't leave any marks except a few needle tracks, but man, she cracked like an egg. Dished out all the skinny on the Underground and their nefarious schemes. Bunch of terrorist yahoos, as far as Dak knew. He didn't know how he felt about juicing up the dame with that cocktail of drugs, but thankfully he wasn't getting paid to feel.

He and [member="Octavian Vire"] were employed by the Whiteguard of the Tion Hegemony. They did a lot of tasks for the Hegemony. Most of the time that meant protecting execs. Sometimes though, sometimes it meant getting into plainclothes, climbing into a basement and drilling a hole in the wall straight into a casino's vault in order to heist some friggin' blue stone.

And, given that the Underground seemed to be composed of a bunch of rogue Forcies, Canton was on edge. Probably why he'd worn a grey-green terentatek duster, leviathan bracers, a taozin amulet around his neck, and the Bodo-Baas gun belt. Also why he'd brought his big ol' knife Seydakiin, the Huntsman axe, a BTI-CR strapped to his thigh and a BTI-WB Dart Pistol in a shoulder holster. The small arsenal, tucked away as it was beneath the duster, wouldn't attract too much notice. Then again, if they tracked any attention at all they were probably screwed, so best to have it and not need it than not have it and getting shanked by a lightsaber.

 

[Ayden Cater]

Rumors were good, but confirmation was better. Ayden mused to himself as he waited for the ship to drop out of hyperspace how many things he might have missed out on. He maintained his own network of spys and ears from the days of the Syndicate, and that had included men on Zeltros. One of his agents had constantly raved about an impossibly rare artifact, but after a dozen fail investigations Ayden had long since down-graded the man's credibility and tuned out his reports... until two days ago when a report came across his desk about an Underground agent allegedly finding something on Zeltros that was incredibly rare and powerful. How much earlier might he had been on the trail if his agent had provided more substantial evidence? No matter...

Reverting to realspace some distance from Zeltros, Ayden took a personal freighter of his out, with all the normal nothing-to-see-here-move-along frills you'd expect, from the Starfall and made his approach to Zeltros proper. Stepping out into a world of lust and debauchery, Ayden simply breathed deeply and chuckled to himself. The nasal implants were doing their job at filtering out those pesky pheromones for the time being. Making his way through customs, Ayden opened the long duster to reveal nothing unusual; a pair of data cylinders, a portable computer, and a few other knick-knacks. When the custom officer sighted that lightsaber, Ayden just gave him a reassuring word and subtle wave of his hand. He wasn't here to cause trouble, after all.

Once he got well and truly lost within the crowd, Ayden stepped up to one of the many comm kiosks on the planet and plugged in one of those data cylinders. Pretending to dial in a number to call, Ayden played charades with himself while the AI slowly unpacked itself from the cylinder and slowly infiltrated the network. "Next time you get to travel in the suitcase, boss." The slightly irritable voice of a woman sang in his ear, causing the Corellian to grin. Of the two AI companions he kept, Dizz was the more personable one. Roland was technically brilliant, but that did leave him a bit dry as far as chit-chat went. "I think I need a week with a Twi'lek masseuse to iron out all these kinks in my code."

"Dizz, you don't have a body," Ayden said with a smirk. He did rather enjoy these exchanges.

He could almost here the indignancy swell up within the feminine AI. "Well obviously she'd have her doctorate in Advanced Intelligence Design. I bet she'd know how to treat a girl right."

Ayden rolled his eyes. "Alright Dizz, if you're done being a brat then we need to get down to business. I need you to monitor all the active comms, unsecure or readily breachable, and tell me if you hear anything about a statue or artifact being found, or any crimes related to them. One of my agents was raving about this place, and an unrelated second group seemed to confirm his ravings. No doubt, as these things go, there are others who will be on trail now. If we want to get this item in short order, we need to be on the look out." He paused and looked around casually to see if anyone was watching. Ops like this made certain die-hard instincts flare up. "While you're listening in on all that, I need you to access the sensors and spaceport data; get me access to the schedules and IDs of all the transports and cargo haulers that regularly come in. We'll cross reference those with all the freighters and personal transports that come in, see if we can't make out a pattern." There were a lot of public transports and cargo freighters that came to Zeltros, but there was always a pattern to find, always a schedule. He knew what to look for.

Hanging up the call, Ayden retrieved the data cylinder and turned to melt back into the crowd. Dizz would keep a low profile, she was good at that. She knew better than attempting to pry behind firewalls or heavy encryption right off the bat. That kind of legwork came later. For now, there were still a lot of unknowns. It was all boring data-mining and public access channels for the time being. But even for an AI, tackling a whole planet's worth of data like that would be more than enough of a challenge to keep her on task and focused.

In the meantime, Ayden began to meander his way into a casino. If he was going to be on the planet for long, he needed to indulge a little to avoid catching any unwanted attention.

 

[Long Gone]

Welp – this was interesting.

She had got teamed up with someone that she could admire from a field perspective, someone whose daughter she owed a debt to – a Starchaser. Yeah, there had been stories about them, but Mira admired them none the less. Coren was highly spoken of by her mother and she spoke highly of Kaia – didn’t matter what anyone else said. She left Pixel onboard Coren’s ship, just incase somehow anyone would identify her with the blue and white BB unit – dyed her hair a bright shade of red and gotten a tattoo over her right eye that extended past her cheek. To top it all off, she had gotten an alias from Coren. Of course, the alias was interesting to say the least – about as interesting as any other hooker name in the Galaxy.

“Vagena Aplenty….” She whispered as she looked down at the holo ID and then up to the back of Coren before rushing up to him and showing him the ID. “Really?” She said, shoving the ID infront of his face. “Am I supposed to live by this name somehow?” She said between gritted teeth, trying to keep her voice low. It was a good question considering the fact they were on Zeltros and just so happened to be heading towards a rather lively establishment. Mira’s eyes shifted from the entrance to Coren. What else could she really say to it? There was no going back at this point. She had already been checked in as such and somewhere in the bowels of a datacenter, a security technician was snickering.

[member="Coren Starchaser"]

 

[Jorus Merrill]

Currently, [member="Mira Rekali"] and [member="Coren Starchaser"] were making for the Aurodium Manwench Casino. [member="Ayden Cater"] was too, and [member="Octavian Vire"] and [member="Dak Canton"] were tunneling toward the vault. The vault did contain the bronzium avian, to be sure. Its owner, Bazinga the Hutt, maintained a private suite on the thirty-second floor. Thirty-two, the number of power, couldn't be a coincidence.

BAZINGA THE HUTT​

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[member="Harmon Taldan"] was heading for the Paradise Cantina, where he would find the party ongoing as ever.

Nobody important was heading for the Grand Bazaar. But life went on without them, and the Bazaar had all manner of life. The auction would be underway in a few hours. In the meantime, an Underground agent examined the statue from afar. Life-sized or a little smaller, curiously light according to its file, it was reputed to come from an obscure waterworld. What form its significance might take, admittedly, he did not know. Maybe there was a chip embedded in the stone, or a microcarving in a less-visible spot. It was, however, gorgeous.

 

[Azimuth Industries]

A tall, gaunt figure navigated the crowd in the Grand Bazaar whilst simultaneously fiddling with a data pad. Wearing sombre hued clothes with a neckline that went all the way up, Ni'gel kept his eye sockets glued to the screen. The several times the administrative assistant had been unfortunate enough to glance around he had been greeted by a sight of unparalleled debauchery. The amount of bare skin on display, absolutely unconscionable.

Suffering from severe culture shock and regretting a number of life decisions, the Givin kept his mind at ease by focusing on algorithms.

"Aw honey, why don't you come with me."

Some lewd, barely clothed eel of a Zeltron brushed up against him. No doubt secreting enough pheromones to send a small village into an orgy. Thankfully, the Givin had had the foresight to wear a large breath-filtering apparatus that would make a Baran Do sage feel prudish.

He fixed the creature with a baleful gaze. "No."

Ni'gel brushed past the harlot. She hadn't even offered him a quadratic equation in greeting. How rude.

Only a few more hours until the bidding began. Ni'gel approached the auctioneer to sign in for Hegemonic Automaton. Apparently, [member="Gerion Ardik"] wanted this statute for his office, though Ni'gel couldn't imagine why. Too many curves.

Black, deep sunken eyes turned up to gaze upon the purpose for his presence on this lecherous planet. The maltese falcon statue.

 

[RC 212]

The Grand Bazaar

Word was cheap among scoundrels and thieves. Especially when a smuggler landed in port. The first thing he did was seek out seedy places where others got sloppy drunk and made foolish errors. Which had lead him to here. The Grand Bazaar. It seemed that there was something much astir about some sort of statue. What the significance was he couldn't exactly place, and why they were raving?

He guessed it was worth a lot of money, especially since from this vantage point atop a skyscraper looking down he could see it was under heavy guard. Almost like a battalion of guards to be exact.

Jack had cross referenced smugglers reports along with the local gossip. And then he had used his privilege as a reserve Captain for the Mandalorian Navy to garner some classified Naval Intelligence from some lowlife spies. Yes this was it alright, and it seemed he was alone, with just a team of three hand-picked agents of his own.

Dak of course, his scrawny farm kid first mate from Dantooine. Dak was a natrual marksmen, something the opposite of Captain Raxis who was deadlier with a blade in close. And two more were nearby at street level. Farlin and Alleria. A pair of Ordo twins with a wicked penchant for destruction. They were more heavily armed, full Beskar'Gam, grenade launchers and good ol explosives.

Jack tapped the comms in the Helmet of his own Aliit'Gam and blinked, magnifying the image of the area.

"Ranger one is in position. Ranger two as well. Three and four, check in."

"All the explosives are planted. Moving to flank to deploy decoys."

"Sounds good, we will go at your signal."

Jack crouched behind a window, facing the window on the opposite side of the room, that was broken. He gave Dak a lap on the shoulder.

"You got this kid?"

"Yep, sure as rain Skip. Soon as the explosions hit, provide suppressing fire, just like we planned."

"Keep a line ready. If I can get my hands on whatever this thing is the extracts gonna be red hot."

And then he disappeared, rappelling down the opposite side of the building. With blinding speed he kicked off each time, sailing fifty to sixty meters down the cable. It was a perfect set-up, because below him waited his prized baby. The Kessels Pride.

 

[Saran Drast]

In a darkened apartment room that was entirely to cold for her tastes, Saran was shadowboxing. She had signed up for a tournament that would start in a few hours, and any practice, even last minute, couldn't hurt. She moved a step farther from the door when she saw something behind her. She spun, fists raised in a defensive posture. The shock gloves hummed for a moment before she saw who it was. "Sorry." she muttered to the Zeltron landlady, who timidly stepped back into the door.

"There's a couple of men from tha casino looking for ya, miss Drast. Is you in trouble?" the woman asked, eyeing the miraluka with suspicion. It wasn't the cleanest part of town, and her reaction had been perhaps overly defensive. A side affect of her never taking time off, as Anarya put it. Shaking her head and pulling out the small bottle of Sil-Alert from her pocket, she downed it as they went down the hall. "I don know why ya do tha," the landlady commented, "Zeltros is a lov'ly place if you let it."

"I don't need the distractions of every guy who finds me attractive while I'm in the ring." Saran replied. Having had this conversation plenty of times before, she was used to the same old replies and responses. "Besides," she added as she got into the lift, "the ring isn't one of pleasure. That's the other casino down the way."

A small chuckle escaped the shorter Zeltron. "Was that a joke? I dinnt think ya could make em!" Pleased with herself, the landlady followed her in, clearly intent on escorting her to the lobby. Something about this sat wrong to the woman.

"I figure it's the planet getting to me." Saran replied with a smile. The lift fell strangely silent for a minute, but with a simple ding, the doors opened to the lobby. The girl stepped towards the pair of men waiting for her. Nodding to the barbel, she spoke to the older human. "We starting early?"

"Boss wants to run another background check. Seems someone plans to rob the place and he's making sure it won't be one of us." he replied, a short smile creeping onto his face. "Let's hope he doesn't go crazy with the power."

"Did you hear about Le'kreeg?" the Barabel asked. "He got fired from the Black Star 'cause he was thought to be connected to some terrorist cell. 'Parently no one's hiring him now."

"Aww, Le'kreeg's gone?" She gave a bit of a whine. "I actually liked fighting him. He was fast." She gave a smile as they walked out the door. "for a Barabel, at least." The taunt earned her a light shove from her companion.

"Watch it, sparkie, or you'll have to face me." The thin line that crossed his reptilian features betrayed his amusement. This is what she had been missing sense the GLC broke up. As she stepped into the backseat of the casino taxi, she smiled at him.

"How much pull you got in the fight order? We may be able to do it tonight." She replied, before turning to the driver. "How's traffic?" All she got back was a grunt. "That bad, huh?" She sighed, and leaned back, content, as the taxi sped to the Aurodium Manwench Casino.

The ring should be good tonight.

 

[Ugoto Chivaro]

[member="Dak Canton"]

Whatever Octavian was chewing, it probably wasn't good for him. Whenever he spit (usually every three to four minutes), the saliva evicted from his mouth would be tainted black. Fortunately he confined this activity to a disposable, plastic cup. From the volume of his chewing and the fact that he was flipping through the pages of a magazine that had a naked Chiss plastered over the cover, it was easy to see that Octavian was not a very subtle person- a fact that was further emphasized by the .48-caliber Enforcer pistol tucked into his shoulder holster. He called it the hand cannon, and a couple of John Does that had been found belly-up in ditches with fist sized holes blasted through their skulls had once called it "compensating for something."

He was slow to rise once Dak said it was finally set up. The magazine was folded unceremoniously and left on the duffle bag he'd been seated upon. Inside the duffle back was some other equipment on the off chance they needed it, plus an extra gun or too for him. Also a couple of personal shield generators and ballistic vests, but since Dak had shown up dressed like a voodoo space cowboy with too many goddamn weapons, Octavian no longer felt like sharing. He rubbed his hands together as he approached the drill, making sure the calibrations were correct, all the right settings... He pulled some welder's goggles out of his back pocket and snapped those on, followed by a couple of ear plugs, one at a time.

"This'll take awhile. And it'll be loud."

Octavian gripped the triggers, planted himself, and started drilling in earnest.

 

[Ayden Cater]

"Was it wise to give her such a large task?" Roland asked in a clipped voice from a bud within Ayden's ear. The older AI had had numerous years of experience with Ayden by now and had long since mastered multi-tasking on such a scale as what was being asked of Dizz. Conversely, she had been seldomly active and was still fairly new to the galaxy at large. In a number of ways, Ayden could see the legitimacy of such a query.

"Dizz is more than capable of doing bulk data mining and sorting, Roland. After all, that was the sort of thing your line was originally created to oversee." Ayden commented subvocally into a comm collar hidden beneath his shirt and jacket. He slipped past the front door guards, a couple of Weequays in rather expensive-looking three-piece suits. It was a little unusual to see such beings in a place like this. Not that Ayden was a speciest or anything, but he had only ever seen Weequays operate as pirates, bounty hunters, or thug muscle. This was a pretty up-scale casino. Ayden pulled a couple things from his jacket and passed a human about his size who was busy working away at a slot machine. With a wave of his hand, Ayden was walking around with a nice jacket while his duster was off being delivered back to his ship.

"Picking up anything so far, Roland?" Ayden made his way over to sit at a high-stakes sabaac table. One sentient, a Duro who looked absolutely crushed, got up and left. Staring across the table at a rather gorgeous red-headed woman, Ayden gave a gracious bow as she crooked a finger to invite him over to play. Dealing himself in, Ayden got comfortable as the next hand was passed out. A droid was dealing the cards, and Ayden was sure that there were anti-cheating devices installed on the table. Not that he needed to cheat; Ayden had been playing sabacc for a few centuries, depending on how one tracked such matters.

"A number of unsecure networks, several of standard security, and one very high security network," the AI reported dutifully. "I am unable to query the status of the high security network, but can infer its existence due to several tight-band transmissions, and inventory and spending reports on the lower security networks." Ayden nodded apparently in sync with the beat music playing overhead while analyzing his hand and looking at what was on the field. "I have begun preliminary intrusions into their lowest security networks. Once I have more to report, I will do so. In the meantime, try not to bet all your credits away." Ayden smirked while playing his first card. What was the point of coming into a casino in the first place if you weren't gonna bet it all?

 

[Jorus Merrill]

Current Locations

CASINO
[member="Mira Rekali"] and [member="Coren Starchaser"]
[member="Ayden Cater"]
[member="Octavian Vire"] and [member="Dak Canton"]
[member="Saran Drast"] (en route)

GRAND BAZAAR
[member="Ni'gel"]
[member="Jack Raxis"]

PARADISE
[member="Harmon Taldan"]

The Underground agent at the Grand Bazaar tilted his head as a transmission filtered through his earbud comm. Someone was Up To Something in the immediate vicinity; his backup had noted suspicious motion. He eyed the statue, turning slowly in its lights. Day-lights, those; expensive ones that mimicked natural light. He wasn't sure what to make of that, but at the moment, he had bigger problems. He slunk away into a side alley to keep an eye on the auction stand. From here, he had a fairly clear line of sight on the statue and the other guarded, shielded display cases, though every now and again something nubile and glittery would get in the way. His heart went out to that poor, much-solicited Givin.

The auction was about to begin. He had authority and resources to bid, but something told him the auction might come to a precipitous end. He had a bad feeling about this.

The other two members of his trilateral cell were within a hundred metres of this place. He conferred with them briefly and unobtrusively.

 

[Marcus Tritum]

Drill baby, drill?

Canton shrugged, put in earplugs, and moved to sit on the stairs leading out of the basement. The earplugs wouldn't be an issue for the motion sensors. Any alerts would cause the controller in his pocket to vibrate furiously. After that, well, they'd have a lot more to worry about than whether or not the drill was noisy.

As he passed the duffel bag, he scooped up the girlie mag and plopped down on the steps. He glanced Octavian's way, doubting he would mind. The .48 sitting snugly in its holster caught his attention. Big gun, that. You'd need a mop to clean up after it.

Dak almost put the mag back down. Almost. But booty called. He flipped the magazine open to a random page and started to peruse the various wares.

What've we got here? Chiss, eh? Not really my type, but hey, maybe Vire's got the Blues. Oh, hello. Yeah, I'd drill her.

The laser bored into the stone, quickly turning the once-solid wall into a gaping hole ringed with molten slag.

[member="Octavian Vire"]

 

[Harmon Taldan]

Cloaked in the traditional sense, Harmon made his way through the lush vegetation and gyrating bodies that was Paradise at any hour of the day. He couldn't help but smirk as he nodded and moved with the music. It was the best way to make it through the crowd at Paradise, anyone trying to force their way through would likely find it too difficult to make any headway. Looking into the nooks and crannies of the cantina, it took Harm three-quarters of an hour before he found his contact.

"Hey there Dey-zee. Fancy seeing you here." He said as he slid into a booth made out of the roots of some tree. The half-zeltron grinned at Harm and blew out smoke she had drawn in from a hookah whose mouthpiece dangled from her left hand.

"Well, well, well. If it isn't da Major Taldan, long way from home ye'is." She said with drawling ease, then took another inhale from the hookah pipe, holding it in, then letting it seep out through her pearly smile. "To what do I owe da pleasure?"

"Dey, you know you can call me Harm. 'Sides, I've left the corps for better things." He replied, settling in close to her. He needed the information quickly, but there was no pushing Dey-zee to give information at anything but her speed.

"Oh, ye'll always be da Major to me. No Harm in that, ye be sure." She said with a wink and a smile. She shifted, leaning into Harm's shoulder for a moment before looking at his torso, then leaning into him again. "How sad, yer not here ta see me." A frown crossed her face before the familiar twinkle came back.

"Not only, but you know I wouldn't come close to this planet without spending some time with you." He leaned over and kissed her on the head. The cat was out, so he felt it would be ok to push for some information. "I'm here on a mission. There're people after a set of statues or some such that my colleagues and I would like to thwart. I figured if anyone on Zeltros knew anything about it, it'd be you."

"Yer a damnable tease, Taldan, and ye know it." She said with a grin and a draw on the hookah. "I might'n be knowin more than you about what yer lookin for, but for such it won't be free. Not even for you, dangerous people want to find them, dangerous people want them kept hidden, too many dangerous people for me to be giving such information out on...spec." She continued, the last word said as she looked him up and down, then grinned into his face.

"Then we should start haggling..."

 

[Saran Drast]

Saran had been dozing off before her companion nudged her. "Ooh, that's not good." Siting up to look at the datapad he held, she sighed. "Looks like you've going against Ripper tonight. Says you humiliated him and he wants a rematch." The Barabel looked at her, a hint of worry in his voice. "Apparently he's got a couple of cybernetics now. Something about your sister?"

"He messed with Anarya? I may have to teach him a lesson." She was mad now, even as she tried to hide it. "If he's challenging, what's the most painful I can set it to?"

"I think your sister already did, sparkie." The older man commented from the front seat. "Cost him an arm, not to mention his pride. Beaten by a teenager? Disgraceful." He laughed.

"A teenage Jedi." Saran pointed out. "Man, I need to get a holonet connection in my flat." She leaned back as Kall'tach replied to her earlier question.

"Technically, you could go for lethal, but I wouldn't recommend it." he said, looking up from the datapad. "Otherwise, I'd say a level five would be good."

"Then I'll call it that." She sighed. "I may or may not have to put him out." There was a low whistle as both of them turned to look at her. "What?"

"I don't think I've ever seen you this mad."

"He attacked my SISTER!" Her voice rose at the last word, sitting up. "Why wouldn't I be?"

"I'm not disagreeing, Saran." Her head snapped to him, surprised. Kall never used her real name. "We're a little surprised, is all."

"I know a couple guys. Want us to go pay him a visit out back beforehand, sparkie?" Gavic said from the front seat. Saran shook her head.

"No, I wanna deal with him myself. I may talk with him beforehand, though." She was tense. Every part of her seethed. She wanted to break something.

This night was getting more violent by the second.

 

[Razelle Breuner]

Paradise
The Ubiqtorate's initial reconnaissance of the rumors and mystery regarding the alleged Underworld plan against the First Order had placed three possible objectives. Two were out in the open and vulnerable to smash and grab operations, while the third was sealed in a casino vault. Agents had naturally been sent to all three objectives, and the information shared with other branches of the Order to make their own plays. Razelle Breuner - a junior agent with impressive performance so far but a lack of provable reliability - was sent to an open and observable area to secure what should have been a very easy prize.

The issue, of course, was that she was dealing with Zeltron whores.

Paradise was a brothel by any other name, and the issue with Zeltron whores was that they had empathy and "pheromone" nonsense for days. Conning them wouldn't be easy, but stealing a mantlepiece trophy in front of a crowded lobby would have been even more difficult. Authorities would be on her by the time she got to the door, not to mention the establishment's own personal security force. She needed to do this subtly...and in this case, as in most others, that meant a disguise.

"Irene Orvel-Cognito," a respected lawyer who had handled such high-profile debacles as the Koensayr transfer of authority a few years back, had been set up with corroborating evidence that she was indeed a member in good standing of the legal offices of the Hypori Business Authority. Her career recently had mostly involved simple lawsuits and defense cases, certainly nothing to the scale of the Koensayr inherentence fraud resolution that she'd performed six years ago. She'd also been two years married to Charles Orvel, a Hypori native that the Ubiqtorate had made up and verified though years of misinformation backlog.

It was so wonderful to be working with a real intelligence bureau again.

Heels clicking against the durasteel and pencil skirt skirt hiking up a bit too far (this was Zeltros, after all, and Irene couldn't be faulted for wanting to have a bit of fun while she was here), the woman of pedigree and law strolled into Paradise with a datapad full of legal documents. She took a seat at the cantina's bar and pursed her lips in the most demurely disappointed expression she could manage. All the while, the hands-free comlink in her ear fed her a quiet stream of cues from her handler, and her datapad picked up the chatter around her to feed back to the Ubiqtorate data sweatshops.

 

[Jsc]

Paradise
w [member="Razelle Breuner"] , [member="Harmon Taldan"]

It was a lush jungle filled with a sparkling pool and beautiful predators. Chiseled boys and voluptuous girls of every color under the sun. Even a few heroes too. Like Harmon over in the booth chatting or the Razzy-baby sitting at the bar in that wow-wow meow-meow skirt. Oh baby.

Karen Roberts was in disguise as well. Well... If you could call red skin airbrushing and a green slink bikini a disguise? I mean, HK-36 would have said it counted. According the Shards ancient counting it would have had armor class in the millions. So, yeah. It counted. Sort of. Bahooty sway and all.

Karen sashayed by the pool with a full tray of glamorous drinks over her shoulders. Mmm. Eyeing the bronze prize above the bar with wet lips and a naughty bedroom thirsting. Trotting like a perfectly poised princess in her haughty amber high-heels. Smelling. Wafting. Nay drinking, deeply of the succulent air. Enjoying all the wonderful pheromones like only real woman of commanding, and hoe deviant, experiences could. Ugh. By the Gods! Did she love this planet. This feeling was to die for. Oh. Yes. Yes. Yes yes yes. Mhmm. Ugnnh. How she bathed in that aura with every brazen bikini bounce. Letting her womanly blood boil with every powerful strut. Letting her mind linger on that wow-wow, meow-meow, pow-pow skirt and that handsome Corellian smile. Mmm. Maybe just a bit too long.

Prowling by the bay. She delivered her hot drinks to the boys by the pool and placed the cash tips they offered back into the strength of her tight strings. Oh yes indeed. Spy or no spy. Honey Blue-Blue, that Autumn Queen Bee of the Pheramone PewPew, was working tonight.

Rawr.

 

[Coren Starchaser]

This was one of those things that just didn’t seem to take much. Starchaser was on his way to the casino, when the voice piped up behind him.

Right, about that. Coren was used to traveling alone. He hadn’t much time to make a few false IDs, and would make some for anyone who was working within the Alliance or Underground on their trip here. He was hoping more would show up from either government, and turned to Mira-Vagene. “No, just… if you get stopped, that’s who you are. No one’s going to recognize us, but… bounty hunters have a way of sniffing people down.”

He kept walking, crossing one of the traffic ways, with Porter close in tow. “Just stay close.” He could see Manwench, the trick was getting in. Stopping outside, he looked to Porter, and nodded. “Find yourself a back door. Meet at the security room.”

The droid twittered and looked to Mira’s astro and then started to take off around the building.

Droids were so good.

[member="Mira Rekali"]

 

[Cira]

GRAND BAZAAR
@Ni'gel | [member="Jack Raxis"] | [member="Jorus Merrill"]

Home was home.

Decadent and hedonistic. Really, who didn't have fun while on Zeltros? A smirk would tug at Aeri Vyn's lips, Representative of Arceneau Trade Company. She was here on behalf of particular interests for the Galactic Alliance. Normally it would be Noire overseeing this venture, but when Aeri got the details on this particular lightscupture, she decided to come here personally.

If this was rumored to be what she thought it would be, crafted by a Caamasi long forgotten, Aeri wanted a part of it. The auction was to start soon, and Danger had given Aeri specific instructions when it came to it.

Heels would clip across a polished floor only to slow. Ah, there she was; a life-size woman, beautifully carved and oddly light.

A light-sculpture at it's finest.

But who was the artist?