Public Welcome to Denon [Darkwire][Criminal]

[Hacks]

When Hacks arrived it was night time on this side of Denon. A consistent and controlled rainfall fell over the city. WeatherNet cooled the planet down with a shower after a short heatwave had recently hit the ecumenopolis. With five-hundred-billion residents and billions of tourists the Corporate Authorities were quick to turn down the heat. Hacks had heard about the Corporate Authorities of Denon, big wigs who had fled Etti IV after the Sith took control over the Corporate Sector. Denon was the most logical transition, nearby prosperous industrial worlds filled their pockets and tourism boomed with resort planets close by. What they hadn't expected was the deep seated underworld that had leaked from nearby Nar Shaddaa and Coruscant and corrupted the city.

Her eyes turned suddenly, flashing blue and red lights on an airspeeder whizzed by. "CorpSec," she muttered, "Fark em." The security branch of the government that maintained some semblance of peace on the upper levels of the planet. Corporate Security, CorpSec for short, or known by most underworlders as Securi-cops. Hacks had learned of the irony that was Denon. Those that ruled vied for further power, as the rich oft did, but they couldn't outright attack their opposition. So the suits of the world used the underworld of Denon to fight their proxy wars, hiring bounty hunters to take out competition, slicers to steal technology and information, enforcers to keep certain people in line. They went to their big exec meetings, pretending they were not pulling the strings of the underworld and ordering CorpSec to hunt down the criminals, all the while being the ones who were funding the crime that was rampant on Denon.

Hacks hated the Corporate Authorities but there was one thing she loved completely that outweighed all that hate. Credits. She came here after a bounty in Confederate space had gone sour. It was a bold move trying to catch a senator in the capital, but Hacks was swayed by the idea of a few million credits in the pockets. Some things didn't work out as planned and she was approached by a businessman who offered her a job here on Denon. Nothing official, credits in hand, highly illegal. The kind she was used to. She wouldn't be leaving this planet anytime soon, not while she still had powerful people in Confederate space wanting her dead. So she lit up her cigarette, leaned against the railing and took in the view of Denon. Her new home.

 

[Be'iqaronn]

Renn sat down at a bar, quietly watching news through his HUD. This place was a dump, he just wanted his ship fixed and to leave. Though he may stay to see if there was any jobs that he could quickly take. The large population he realized was a good place to disappear with, he may make it his main hideout, but then again, seclusion would be better.

Flashes of red and blue filled the room as they passed, the small chandler had no chance. Looking over he could see people passing pucks and others paying credits. On his news they were talking about the "chivalrous" security force. All they were to Renn were crooks and liars. His ship had taken a beating during the Confederacy attack, and blood still stained his cloths. He had a new cloak on and his weapons were clean.

A server finally walked up and asked, "What would you like to drink sir."

Renn's voice sounded like a clone trooper with their helmet on, "Just tell the bartender anything."

The server decided to make a move, "Y'know if you have no where to stay you can come to my place."

Renn rolled his eyes and said, "Just get me my drink."

This would be a very boring while, he just wanted to leave.

Hacks

 

[Enigma Iuda]

Tags: Hacks Be'iqaronn

My name is Dos Penuym.

I am a newly minted member of the Intergalactic banking clan branch of Denon after my successes within the Core worlds, where I handled the Kuat shipyard debacle, ensuring that the account details were removed before the losses were reported and affected our quarterly earnings, all within my first year as an associate. You can look up the incident in our records, you won’t find it. Nor will you find the names of the other associates involved who were unable to stop the steady decline in profits that it caused.

I am telling you this so that you when I ask for the credit line opening for account NRGM-1173, I know it will be approved without incident.

Please do hesitate to contact me unless you wish to have your name added to my report that will likely be named “The decline in investment value of the Denon system.”

Yours Faithfully,
Dos Penuym
IBC Investment Senior Associate.

Closing his datapad with a metallic click, Enigma leant back against his couch with a sigh, folding his arms behind his head as he looked up at the roof of his dingy apartment. His roof was an assortment of splotches and stains, a combination of water damage and just a general lack of care was slowly eroding the paint away to reveal the mass-produced rubbish they made homes out of here.

Leaning forward, the young man began to shift through the empty caff-stimm cans and various wires and soldering tools that covered the table next to his bed, he searched frantically for the cigarettes he knew were under there somewhere. Finally finding the familiar feel, he began to roll the tobacco, one foot absently tapping to the beats of the bar he lived under.

Some sort of Rodian country, if I remember correctly. Although, I haven’t pirated any off world country in a hot minute.

Licking his smoke closed, the he walked over to the window that led out to the street level from the apartment, grabbing his mask as he did so.

Covering most of his face, he detested being in public without some form of covering, ensuring his identity remained unknown.

Working on Denon meant playing both sides in the Corpo’s little spats. If you get yourself doxed, it means picking a side and picking a side means making enemies with the other side.

Fidgeting around, he let out a groan as he realised his lighter was back through the narrow crawlspace. Looking around, the HUD of his mask dispersed most of the garish colours of the bar sign illuminating the street, enough for him to make out the woman smoking just down there.

Feth, IRL interaction. Great.

Walking over, he tried to appear as non-threatening as possible, lest a firearm was pulled from the unwanted conversation. It wouldn’t be the first time.

“Heeeeyyyyy…..can I borrow a light?”

 

[Razelle Breuner]

There was a flash, a sparking noise, and the sound of an animal barking. There was only one place to go. It wasn't safe, but the body often acted in abject contempt of the mind when in danger. This place was dark and far from those sounds, and the men from earlier. It had to be safer. From her position under a pile of filthy rags in an alley, Razelle counted.

Twenty-seven... twenty-eight... Right on schedule.

There was the quiet squeak of designer shoes on rain-slick duracrete. She remained sitting perfectly still, huddled up between dumpsters. Her positioning had been immaculate this time; between refuse so she looked like a kicked transient, but not in refuse so she wouldn't make any sound as she stood. The well-covered blonde waited a few seconds until her quarry passed. Corporate suit, code cylinder, briefcase data terminal. He didn't even notice her from her crouched position, and when he'd moved a few steps past, she got up into a crouch, her tools already in her hand.

Just like her positioning, her hold was precise. K'tara triangle choke with her left arm as her right jabbed a syringe into the man's throat. As she did, she quietly whispered into his ear, her voice barely audible over the sound of artificial rain. "Gantigua sends his regards." And with that? Enough spice to knock a Gamorrean on its ass, pumped right into his system. She immediately tugged her needle from his body, spun him around, and gave a single palm strike to his throat. Perfect silence. As the man staggered back and fell into the same pile of trash she'd been hiding in, Raz bundled up her rags and walked forward. in seconds, she'd planted two more vials of spice in his jacket and knicked his code cylinder.

No brass to police, no witnesses to silence. Quick and clean. Pocketing the code cylinder, Razelle walked silently towards the other end of the alley, dumping her disguise in a trash bin along the way. Comlink open, public emergency channel. She intentionally hyperventilated a few times before she picked up, to make sure her voice shocked and out of breath. "Hello, CorpSec?! I just saw someone stagger into an alley and fall over! I think he might need help! It's... it's right behind the 125th Block McYoda's! Oh Force... sir, can you hear me?!" As she spoke those last little lines, she pulled her comlink away from her face, then dropped it onto the ground and smashed it with her boot.

Within a minute she could already hear the sirens. Razelle walked off into the rain, lighting a stimstick as she skulked into a nearby bar, covered in the smell of petrichor and stimsmoke. CRM Gantigua would need proof, but he wouldn't want his prize until tomorrow. No reason to have that kind of immediate paper trail. She had time to burn.

Hacks Be'iqaronn Enigma Iuda

 

[Hacks]

Hacks felt a weight lift from her shoulders for the first time in years. In Nar Shaddaa life had been complicated, she never knew when the next gig was or if she'd be able to feed herself. Most of her contacts from back in her syndicate days were gone or off-world and they weren't the type to help her out. It was survival, it was grueling. She had lived in what underdwellers called a coffin apartment. Room enough for a bed, toilet and nothing else. It was suffocating but still counted herself lucky she wasn't claustrophobic. Life would have gone from a shitshow to a living nightmare.

Her eyes danced over the city. This place felt different, it was different. Nar Shadda's underworld was oppressing and hope was hard to come by but on Denon it felt real, close. She only had to reach out and take it. Jobs for her kind was plentiful. Business was booming. Hacks took out a deep breath and allowed herself to calm, enjoying the moment. "Heeeeyyyyy…..can I borrow a light?" someone said, Hacks turned and looked them over quickly. He towered over her. The scanners within her glasses quickly analyzing him but nothing came up. He was a nobody her analysis concluded, doubt it, she thought. She could smell her type, even if her computing couldn't.

She held out a mechanical arm, extending her index finger towards him as the tip of her finger curled back to reveal an inbuilt lighter. A minuscule electrical field zapped to life at the tip of said finger. "Hacks," she offered, holding out a free hand to shake his. It was one of four, two natural flesh limbs and then below them was another pair of arms, mechanical in nature. She was a mod-junkie, those who took cybernetics to the extreme. Looking her over it was obvious, sharp gold plated spikes protruding from the sides of her skull, flashes of thin silver strips along her cheeks and chin.

A newcomer entered the bar and Hacks turned for a moments glance, it was all that was needed. Her glasses scanned the woman, facial recognition instantly pinged. Data streams flooded her glasses, declassified articles. Someone likes trouble, Hacks mused, then turned back to the man who had approached her.

Razelle Breuner | Be'iqaronn | Enigma Iuda

 

[Enigma Iuda]

Leaning forward to light the smoke, Enigma appraised the mods with an experts eyes, raising his eyebrows beneath his mask at the off-market body work.

Gear like that, this one is either in with Corpo’s or running for Corpo’s.

Stepping back to lean against the rail himself, the young slicer tapped his foot to the beat from the bar behind him as he mulled over his next few steps. With his rent taken care of with the new credit line, his next job was just a simple 7 layer DDOS attack, shutting down the security hub of one Corpo office so another Corpo office could rifle through their digital delicates drawer and he had already coded the sub-routine into one of the droids downstairs he’d slaved to the network.

So I got nothing going on.. he thought as he took another drag.

Watching the woman walk in, the familiar sound of sirens split the night air and Enigma let out a groan, as he was familiar with the process next.

“You new here Hacks? I know most players in the game ‘round here and I sure haven’t heard of any runners flexing gear like that in this area.”

Flicking the smoke away, he began to walk up the steps to the bar’s entrance.

“Cos if you are, Corpo’s are about to slam this scene down tighter than a Sith Lord’s search history. I find a drink helps pass the time.”

Turning, he nearly walked into the massive form of the bouncer who’d stepped out from the squalid door to greet the pair, an electric smoke clasped in his fat lips.

“You know the rules, you got the ink or I gotta toss you into the trash?”

Looking up, Enigma covered his mask as polluted rain began to fall from Denons tortured skies above. It had a disgusting, oily feel and he didn’t want to be in it for any amount of time so, pulling the hood up on his vest, he raised his arm, one of his wrists glowing in the darklight of the clubs entrance, showing him as one authorised to operate on the streets.

Authorised, like a gang of thugs can authorise anything.

As the bouncer stepped aside, Enigma turned to look back at Hacks and gestured for her to join.

Walking inside, the bar was just as much nightclub as your local drinking hole, the air was fogged with cigarette smoke and flavoured vapor and the Rodian country had turned to a discordant electro tune of some kind. Different coloured spotlights flew all across the stalls and dancefloor, illuminating the various underscum, corpo runners and bounties that were huddled together, drinking and dancing. Up on the stage dancing was a heavily tattooed Twi’lek, her lekku replaced with prehensile mettalic coils that moved of their own accord, enticing the group of Gamorreans that were throwing credits to her.

Reaching the bar, the Besalisk barman glared with bloodshot eyes and a black tongue slithered across his rotten teeth as he leered at the young Slicer.

“What’s it to be runner?”

Runner, everyone’s a runner here.

Normally a term Law enforcement used for when an accused tried to make a break for it, the underscum delighted in referring themselves by the insult, laughing when it was put across the holonet or the comms that listened in on Corpo signals. It’s a pride thing, a common habit when any group. A slur’s not a slur when you’re saying it yourself.

“Two cold caffe-stimms”

Looking to another one of the dancers, he was satisfied with his choice. Bounty pucks being traded, spice by the bucketload being inhaled by the bucket load, if any Corpo security came in here they’d be facing a literal armada coming at them. Runner, everyone’s a runner here.

What am I saying, they probably own the place.

Turning back as the barkeep slapped the frothing drinks down, Enigma dropped a few credits onto the bar and went to take his drink

“What’s these? Bankin’ clan credits? Now where’s a runner getting’ Bankin’ clan dough?”

Feth.

“C’mon, don’t be stressing with a runner who just happened to troll the Dollah-boys into giving up some cash.”

With another flash of rotted teeth, the barkeep smiled and scooped up the credits, dropping them from hand to hand before sliding them discreetly into one of the many pockets he had.

“Not a fret here runner, you got ‘em, I’ll take ‘em but maybe don’t go flashing them ‘round.”

Snatching his drink up, Enigma walked over to one of the stalls, listening to the crowd cheer as the beat changed to a slightly different but just as non-sensical electro beat. Sitting down, the young slicer caught the gaze of a particularly looking intimidating individual ( Be'iqaronn ) and he raised his glass in a brief greeting.

Taking a seat in the stall, he saw the woman who the Corpo’s would be searching for ( Razelle Breuner ) just behind them and he gave an encouraging nod.

Busy night tonight.

Taking a cold mouthful of his drink, he realised he hadn’t actually checked to see if Hacks ( Hacks ) had followed him.

 

[Be'iqaronn]

Looking up at the new enterers they looked like they actually had a clue in this world. Not one of those people who thought all who didn't care about anything around them. While he had a little respect for that it wasn't enough to lift his drink in a gesture of welcome. It did earn them earn them a profiling. Just another group of criminals.

The bottom of his mask was down exposing his mouth, the facial cover was hanging off to the side. The timer in his corner went up instead of down and he got a call soon after it went up. He flipped his facial cover back, "What is it?"

"Your ships just lost its rear-engine, it fell straight off."

Renn's voice quieted, "I'm paying you to fix it not steal."

"Sir, I assure you we aren't robbing you."

Renn sighed, "Read my logs and call me back."

The call was hung up and Renn sat there, he know what'd they find. They were trying to take part of his ship from under his nose. Soon after the caller returned. His voice sounded very frightened, "We are very sorry, we'll finish your repairs now." The timer went back down to what it was. While much shorter it was still a couple hours, meaning he would still have to wait. He wondered what entertainment they had here, any bounties he could take on his while?

He just muttered, "After my drink."

Hacks Enigma Iuda Razelle Breuner

 

[Hacks]

"Okay," she quietly murmured as the man lit his cigarette and ignored her handshake, she smoothly raised the hand she had offered to him and slid it along the side of her scalp, "Too slow," she whispered to herself. "I'm new here, but not on Nar Shaddaa," she said, offering the details any amateur slicer could find on her, "Been running solo operations for a few years, dabbled with the Ravens as a kid, did some work for the Hutts a coupla' years ago, not much since though. Work dried up on Nar Shaddaa, especially with the Black Suns vanishing of late." She didn't need to mention, not yet to a stranger that was clearly weighing her up, that she had been invited here by a Corpo. All expenses paid one way ticket to Denon.

Hacks finished her cigarra, dropped it to the duracrete ground and squashed it under a heavy boot, twisting her heel to make sure it was well and truly put out. "Funny," Hacks said as she followed the stranger into the bar, walking in as he ushered her through the entrance, "You didn't give me your name." She stood by the bar and accepted the drink but didn't take a sip, not yet. Her eyes followed Enigma's gaze and it fell on Renn, she looked at him for a moment, scanning the individual. She grumbled when the data streams rolled in. "I know him, kinda," she muttered to Enigma, offering a slight shrug of her shoulders.

"Check Confederacy space reports, he killed dozens, caused millions in damage, and helped botch my job." She quickly added, "But I never met him personally, I was well far away from him when shit went pear-shaped." Hacks slid into the stall with Enigma, her hands reaching under the table and she found the button she was looking for. She thumbed it and suddenly energy exploded to life over the table and rained down in a dome that covered them. A yellow field of energy that prevented wandering eyes and curious ears from listening into their conversation. A tranquility screen. It was usually either rich establishments or dubious bars that had them. "Give it a day or two and he'll have a bounty on his head, I'm surprised someone hasn't already tried to remove it from his shoulders yet."

Enigma Iuda | Be'iqaronn | Razelle Breuner

 

[Cassus Akovin]

On the lamb. An entire nation condemning his life if ever caught within the borders of the CIS. It was going to be time to disappear for a while, lay low, don't draw attention. At the same time though, he needed money, desperately so. The protection of anonymity would secure him from the Confederacy's reach, but his infamy would secure him a job, which put Cassus into an awkward position. Cassus arrived on Denon to simultaneously disappear and to be seen, something the youth was not very skilled at, in both cases. The boy was a difficult person to ignore but lacked the gravitas to be noticed any more seriously than just another kid with a gun.

It was also all the more difficult considering the state of his appearance. He couldn't camouflage since his matrix was broken, his gravity belt was shattered, and the field disruptor around his neck was destroyed. He could have repaired them on his way to Denon, but after his escape, his mind was not at ease. Not to mention he couldn't for the life of him explain how his highly advanced technology was going bust so easily.

Cassus was lost in thought as he was walking down the street when the sound of sirens broke him out of his reverie. "Fierfek," Cassus cursed looking around him, and that's when he saw a figure far behind him looking directly at him...

 

[Enigma Iuda]

Tags: Hacks Cassus Akovin Be'iqaronn Razelle Breuner

Slowly the violent beat of the music began to face as the tranquillity screen surrounded the pair, even managing to mute out some of the garish colours of the lights as well. Leaning back against his chair, Enigma tried not to place his hand against his pistol to comfort him as he eyed Hacks suspiciously from behind his mask.

“Nobody would start up anywhere in here, drinking holes are some of the neutral territory most of the gangs respect. Corpos on the other hand…”

Looking around, the slicer was comforted that nobody had surrounded the table or blocked any of the exits openly. If this is a stitch up, it’s not off to the best start.

Taking another mouthful of his drink, he took a deep breath before looking back at his new drinking associate.

“So, Hacks. You’ve got off the market augs and knowledge of some local players but you’re new in the area. That tells me you’re either A) here to talk a job and lucky little me has made the shortlist or B) You’re here looking for someone and want a tip off on where they are. So, while it’s just us chatting here, let’s be straight. What can is it you need from the ol’ Enigma?”

 

[Soloman Priest]

Soloman sat himself at the bar - cigarette hanging loose from his lips as he barely focused. The ash had ridden high on it, far enough that its weight alone caused it to fall forcing Priest back to reality. A disappointing reality at that, suddenly realizing his food now had a large bit of ash in it, which he imagined couldn’t do much for the flavour.​

​

Frowning, he stirred it in as he finished the cigarette and tossed it aside. Taking a bite, he confirmed his suspicions - not any better than it was, and arguably far worse. He resisted spitting it back up - knowing he spent a good fair amount of credits on it already. Its not like Wrenarias or Sam Rodarch could cook to save either of their lives.​

​

So he resorted to eating out - though he was sure they weren’t too far behind. His gaze moved to the holovision before him - some news about the failed mission in Confederate space going off, and a picture of his beskar’gam as one of the culprits. A pity, really - he imagined someone would get a hint it was him afterall, and then he’d really be in for a bad time.​

​

He sighed, as a woman sat next to him. Felurian Malvern, in all her beauty, was someone Soloman didn’t know, so his gaze meant little - taking time to swallow what food he had in his mouth before speaking;​

​

“You heard of this?”, he said with a motion to the holovision.​

 

[Sienn Ani]

Location: Denon
Attire: [xxx]
Tags: Open

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

By no means was Denon one of Sienn's favorite places to visit. To her, it was crowded, dirty, and noisy, not to mention the questionable people that mulled about. Though that of course was what usually brought her here, those very sort of people. She had a handful of contacts here, spread out throughout various locations, and it just so happened that this time there had been a job to do as well. Not her usual dig into some system job, but a more personal, dig into someone job. Those of course were Si's very least favorite sort of job; she absolutely hated having to use what she was to get what she needed out of people, but when the credits rolled into her hands at the end of the cycle? It was well worth it.

Didn't make her feel any less dirty, which was the case now as she made her way as far from the districts belonging to the 'higher class' and headed towards where she knew she would feel more comfortable. Her own kind of people, those who made their own station, their own class. Looser morals, street wise rules, and always such better company one way or another.

It didn't take the Twi'lek long to find a place suitable enough to wash the taste of high society from her mouth and off of her skin. She stepped into the doorway of the bar, gave a long, slow look around, then sighed through her nose as she headed towards the bartender and an available seat right up front. "Corellian Twister." she let out once she was acknowledged, and then with her order taken she reached out to grasp a couple of napkins which were then used to wipe at her pink colored skin. While she may not physically have any remnants of her job lingering on her, it sure felt like it, it always did when she had to be close to any job in any sort of way.

But, at least she had been successful in her endeavor, even if the faces she was making now were not happy or pleasant ones to say the very least.

 

[Wrenarias]

Wren was anxious about venturing off the ship. While her shoulder had mostly healed, she was still in quite a bit of pain. It would put her at a severe disadvantage if she needed to fight -- which was a strong possibility. There was almost always some sort of conflict wherever she went. Drunken idiots, bounty hunters, thieves, Wren had an uncanny ability to flush them out from the woodwork's. Cedric Grayson would have told her it was the Force testing her, another trial for her to face down.

She wondered what the Jedi Master might have thought if he could see her now, what his reaction was when he inevitably saw the reports of her "death". Disappointment probably summed both circumstances up nicely enough.

Hands stuffed in her pockets, she walked into the bar and glanced around. It was strange to not have to look over her shoulder and worry that someone might have been tailing her. This would be her first time going out for a drink since Solomon had taken her in and get the hunters off her back. Everything should have been rather... normal, but she couldn't shake the feeling that she was still on the run.

She caught sight of Soloman Priest seated at the bar with a rather beautiful woman sitting next to him. It was tempting to go up to him and tease him, but she decided to leave the man in peace for the time being.

Instead, she glanced around to see if she could find Sam Rodarch . When she didn't immediately find the other woman, she approached the opposite side of the bar to order herself a drink. There was enough space in between her and Solomon that he wouldn't have to talk to her if he didn't want to. She wasn't sure what he thought of her, but she doubted that he was fond of her.

No one ever was.

"I'll take a Tatooine Sunrise, when you get a chance." She said with a wry smile to the bartender, setting what few credits she had left to her name across the counter.

 

[Sam Rodarch]

Sam Rodarch was offended.

Nothing new there.

She stood in her usual stance with shoulders hunched and jaw stiff as she observed Soloman Priest eating his ash burger. Wait, why was she holding a container. Look. You try and make yourself more useful, try to help out a bit on the ship and do a bit of cooking and okay, you're not very good at it but you tried right? Was her meatloaf so shockingly bad that it had driven them out in search of a meal?

Well, yes, yes it was.

For starters it was grey, giving an overall air of mystery as to what kind of meat was in the baked brick. The smell wasn't completely awful but there was an air of something not quite right, even sinister about it, and the texture, well, to put it bluntly, it was tough as old boots and just as leathery. How did it go so wrong? It's just meat, right?

Perhaps had the Mandalorian consulted a recipe things would have turned out a little more edible, but uh, let's not talk about that.

Unfortunately for Wrenarias Sam chose to sit herself and her container of mystery meat next to the green-skinned woman instead. Wouldn't want to cramp old man Soloman's style, she could hear his gruff expletives complete with several admonishing kids in her head if she even dared.

As the bartender returned with the twi'lek's choice of poison Rodarch couldn't help but give the drink a withering glare. It was the teetotal woman's automatic reaction to immediately and visibly show her disdain for all things alcoholic, couldn't be helped but mercifully she didn't bring it up. At least not on this day.

“Tap water,” came her own request which caused the bartender's eye to twitch as he noticed her food brought from home. What a cheapskate. He might have objected, but the combination of her scowl and fist-marred face gave him second thoughts.

The container was opened, and sat there, menacing. The brick of grey meat. Truth be told, Sam didn't want to eat it either but damn it, she had made it and it wasn't getting thrown out. She was too proud, and maybe too stupid. Eyebrows twitched as the Mandalorian looked down at the meat, fear and hesitation now evident in her face. It was easy, just take the fork out of your pocket and have a bite. It can't be that bad, can it?

Instead she turned to Wren, so as to not look at the monstrosity any more. Not afraid to try and have a fistfight with a wookiee but too afraid to eat the lifeless block of suffering.

“Do...do you want some meatloaf? I took...uh...two forks,” Sam said nervously, trying to find solidarity in her future viral gastroenteritis.

 

[Hacks]

Hacks placed the drink on the table, suspicious of its contents. Lifetime in crime taught you to be wary of drinks purchased for you, being a woman especially taught you to be wary of drinks from men you didn't know in a bar you're unfamiliar with. While she was not physically intimidated by the man, spiked drinks was another ballgame.

Her head tilted towards him as though to listen more closely as he listed off his suspicions of her. "Paranoid boy aren't'cha?" Hacks said as Enigma finished speaking. "Lots of assumptions, can't say whats true though, if any at all," she twirled her fingers in the air back and worth as though she were weighing her mental decisions. She knew his type, criminal underworld. Maybe he had answers, or knew someone who did. "I'm looking for someone who hired me, ironic, I know," she said, raising a brow and delivering a forced smile.

Hacks slapped a datachip on the table, ran an index finger along the side of her glasses and a 2-dimensional image of a woman appeared on the table. A hologram of a Shadowrunner, Frankie. The data was streaming from the chip. The woman was speaking an old space dialect, Bocce. "Vitteez, geewaaz hokokeez," she said, the hologram replaying the message on repeat.

Hacks muted the message, "Eloise, goes by Frankie on the Invisible Market. Works for the Darkwire Network, she recruited me on Geonosis. I was mean't to meet her here three weeks ago. She still hasn't shown. I'm trying to find a contact in Darkwire but they've gone underground. Somethings happened to Eloise, and Darkwire, and I want to find out. What do you know?"

 

[Ciri Jade]

Whispers of Denon had reached her ears, bringing her to the conclusion of paying a visit to the world. Making use of public transportation meant less secure means of travel but less supisious as well. Since arriving, the Raven came to find that it wasn't anything impressive - just another world which held a large underworld presence. This fact, however, made her visit all the more enjoyable. Stepping outside of Confederate space and into the realm of the underworld was like a return trip home, even if these weren't the streets of Nar Shaddaa.​

​

Despite her ties to the Confederacy, her business on this planet was not for them, not today at least. Having been off-world - taking care of matters in another system, she had caught up with the events in Golbah City by reading the reports, particularly identities, damage reports, and what she could learn about the security breach. The attack was bold and completely foolish, but life without a little risk just isn't as fun. However, that was something else. She was here for other means, a skilled slicer was always needed for most tasks. Plus, gathering information among the Denon underworld could prove helpful for other reasons.​

​

Stepping through the door of the bar and glancing around, mental notes were taken of those present within her sight lines. It paid to be observant and careful, especially among elements of the Underworld. A specific individual among them stood out: Cassus Akovin . Reports had claimed he escaped custody. Seeing him here was amusing though she didn't show it in outward appearance. Approaching the bar, she chose a seat away from the others, preferring to give others their space and to have some of her own. "One Bespin Breeze." She said as the bartender neared, sliding credits across the bar towards him. Glancing up, her attention turned to the holovision of the news report regarding the events on Geonosis. Information she already knew, but seeing what news was given to the public was always interesting.​

 

[Enigma Iuda]

"Paranoid boy aren't'cha?. Lots of assumptions, can't say whats true though, if any at all,"

Does this chick not know where she is? Paranoid ain’t no insult on Denon chicky, on a planet where every conversation is recorded an average of 3.6 times by a third party and you are never more than 6 meters away from an armed weapon, paranoia is just an anagram of common sense.

“It’s not paranoia if they’re out to get you. And assumptions are the only thing that stop me getting 86ed out in the street on the regular. Gak…” he looked around, the distorted visage of the bounty hunters in the bar. While normally people wouldn’t try anything in one of the clubs and bars, that didn’t mean there weren’t some who would ignore that rule, especially if they were an off-worlder. As he was assessing what options he had in order to leave.

"I'm looking for someone who hired me, ironic, I know," Hacks continued

"Vitteez, geewaaz hokokeez," the translator in his mask flashed the translation into basic across his screen. Vitteez, Clear the landing zone. Okay so either Vitteez is someone I don’t know or the translator is playing up. 50/50 really. Probably some Corpo smuggle that decided that keeping the score herself was easier than counting on her fingers to divide the payday.

Enigma was about to tell her as much but froze when he heard what Hacks said next.

"Eloise, goes by Frankie on the Invisible Market. Works for the Darkwire Network, she recruited me on Geonosis. I was meant to meet her here three weeks ago. She still hasn't shown. I'm trying to find a contact in Darkwire but they've gone underground. Somethings happened to Eloise, and Darkwire, and I want to find out. What do you know?"

Throwing a quick look to ensure the tranquillity screen was still up, Enigma still lowered his head, exclamation marks flashing across his masks screen as it registered the look on his face beneath.

“Woah woah woah, you don’t drop the big DW here unless you are ready for what comes with it!”

Looking back out of the screen, his heart rate slowed slightly at the fact none of the bounties in the room had drawn their pieces nor did any of his gear register any intrusion.

“You don’t go looking for them, they find you. And if they do find you, your gone, poof, as much a rumor as a Huttesse fitness instructor or a punk rocker Wookie. The fact you even know about them makes you too hot for a place like this, half of the guys in here would-“ he trailed off as all around his mask warnings began to flash, files he was seeding suddenly getting cut off, the warnings on the area in his hovel down the road tripping and a brief data packet transfer, the binary translated immediately into text across his vision. Hands shaking, Enigma turned to warn Hacks as his vision was blocked by a simple message.

“ WE HAVE YOU.”

 

[Hacks]

Location: Denon Underworld, Hamo Staysh Bar
Tags: Enigma Iuda | Binary | Ciri Jade | Be'iqaronn | Wrenarias | Soloman Priest | Sam Rodarch | Sienn Ani | Cassus Akovin | Razelle Breuner

“You don’t go looking for them, they find you. And if they do find you, your gone, poof, as much a rumor as a Huttesse fitness instructor or a punk rocker Wookie. The fact you even know about them makes you too hot for a place like this, half of the guys in here would-“ Enigma became distracted by a barrage of internal flashes and warnings. His mask had been compromised. A single message passed across his hacked mask, “WE HAVE YOU.”

Sirens in the distance became louder, flashing red and blue. It wasn't a single CorpSec airspeeder, from what Hacks could hear it sounded like a dozen of them, converging on the bar. "Of course the screen is bugged," Hacks fumed, banging a mechanical fist down onto the table and leaving a sizable fist-shaped dent in the metal. She thumbed the tranquility screen under the table and disabled it, the yellow energy field vanishing instantaneously.

"Soloman, Sam!" Hacks shouted across the room to get their attention, "We gotta go!" She flicked her glasses down over her head and the HUD burst to life. She was flooded with a wealth of information, eyes darting across the spectrum of information as she accessed local radio chatter. CorpSec was converging on the location, Starlight was after them. Whoever the fark Starlight was. Hacks quickly moved to the bar and slapped the food from Solomans hand. "C'mon, let's get goin-" Hacks said and was interrupted as the security guard outside shouted, sudden blaster fire, then went silent.

Seconds of silence passed, Hacks watching the entrance with keen precision. She hardly noticed the barkeep next to her retreating to a corner of the room and lifting a floor hatch up. The front door exploded inwards, dust and metal fragments shot through the bar. A shadowed figure emerged from the dust cloud and before he could even raise his rifle Hacks was on the move, she grabbed the nearest chair with all four arms and hurled it across the room with unnatural speed and strength. "Ah fuck!" the CorpSec officer screamed as he was slammed in the face by the chair, stumbled back and fell into the officers behind them, a domino effect. They all lost their footing and slipped to the ground.

"Here, down here!" the barkeep shouted to those in the room, motioning them to the hidden passage behind the bar that went beneath the building. A dark staircase lacking any light. Two mechanical hands gripped the bar and Hacks hurled herself over the bar and landed on two feet, turning to Sam, Soloman, then Enigma, she shouted, "Let's go!" She descended into the darkness at the beckoning of the barkeep, more CorpSec flooding through the front door.

 

[Sam Rodarch]

Well, wasn't that just devastating? They had to go. There was no time to enjoy the majesty of the grey meatloaf. Oh, no! The visible relief that had just crested upon Sam's face gave way to a small twitch of schadenfreude as Solomon's burger was slapped out of his hand. Nobody was getting to eat today!

Of course, all prior miniature satisfaction vanished with the sound of blaster fire with the woman realising that this was somewhat urgent.

It was Hacks and that woman was cursed. The first time they had met was a harrowing tale of naked sexual predators and the ingestion of bodily fluids. Rodarch hadn't been able to look at the slicer in the eye since those events in fear that the smell would return. Oh, that smell. Never again.

Mercifully, it seemed as if they were going to get gunned down by CorpSec instead. Somewhat a preferable outcome. Although as the first officer got absolutely beaned by a flying chair, Sam made a mental note to inquire about cybernetic enhancements. Would really up the game on her haymaker if it was made of metal.

“Better come t-” Rodarch began to say to Wren as she less than gracefully clambered over the bar before being presented with a dark and ominous staircase.

No. Not again.

“HACKS!” Sam shouted after the descending slicer before a peculiar strangled noise emerged from the Mandalorian's throat. This was also known as the beacon of frustration. Could take the gamble, stay and get shot, it was preferable, after all, but then she couldn't boast about her immaculate 'not getting shot' record to Soloman, or could die, both a terrible fate.

“If this goes to a sewer, I fething swear,” the woman grumbled as she reluctantly followed the slicer down into the unknown.

Hacks Wrenarias Soloman Priest

 

[Soloman Priest]

Soloman offered a dangerous look to Hacks as she slapped the food from his hand. His brow furrowed, his lips upturned in a snarl, he lifted himself to follow - but he felt a certain conviction to punch Hacks in the back of that grimey head of hers;​

​

“You know I’ve killed for less, right?”, he said as he ducked behind the bar with her.​

​

The flack and shards of materials that littered the air had broken his skin in a few place - but besides the blood, he simply sighed. Another day, another wound; lifting himself to draw his disruptor and begin firing at the door the others came through. CorpSec disintegrated into the dust that deserved to be, but he didn’t have enough ammo or firepower to keep them at bay for long;​

​

Just enough to get hidden away.​

​

After the others were in, he followed - with a few wounds to spare. He sighed as the hatch shut behind him, and they were submerged in momentary darkness before the barkeep lit the ancient lights; filling the area with that low green light that befit them.​

​

“If its a sewer, just close your mouth this time.”, Soloman offered the undue advice as he took a step ahead of them, glancing about with that white knuckled grip on his pistol.​

​

Hacks │ Wrenarias │ Sam Rodarch​