White Planet Black Market

[Zeradias Mant]

​

CADOMAI PRIME

The Starling was feeling a little under the weather, and it was up to her crew to make her feel better. Unfortunately, the cure was in limited supply on the rather desolate tundra planet. When the hyperdrive went down, it kind of made space travel a bit of a fantasy. By some stroke of luck, there was one hyperdrive compatible with their ship, and one way or another, they'd get it. The catch? Republic credits were no good here, so it fell upon the Starling trio to acquire a valid form of payment. In this case, it was an old holocron, with data and origins unknown. As if that wasn't strange enough, it was currently in the possession of the planet's most notorious gang, known simply as the Horde.

-- -- -- -- -- --​

Dozens of bipedal pig-like creatures roamed outside. Drinking, hollering, certainly not on any kind of alert. Given their numbers though, did they really need to be? The place was no simple hangout - it was a stronghold, belonging to the most dangerous criminal element on the planet. Crime lords on other planets made Snivvians look like petty thieves, but still, they couldn't be underestimated. After all, the crew of the Starling was outnumbered a hundred to one. Still, if they wanted to get the ol' girl spacebound, they needed to do a little quid pro quo.

He lowered the electrobinoculars from his eyes, walking back to the ship's shuttle, swapping it out for a sniper rifle. It was more effective at longer distances to be sure, but at closer ones, it was lethal all the same. With a sigh, he was ready.

"Slow is smooth and smooth is fast...", Lew muttered under his breath, visible in the frigid temperature. "Let's go."

[member="Ceres Aurellian"] | [member="Iago Ferrier"]​

 

[Zef Halo]

Sitting on a flat rock besides the other two, Iago inspected his heavy blaster pistol humming a tone under his breath and moving his head to its beat. A cold wind picked up interrupting him abruptly and having him tighten the scarf around his face. Iago absolutely detested cold.

What he detested more was insane plans.

"So let me get this straight." The scoundrel began, his husky voice slightly muffled due to the scarf. "We have to break in that fortress, full of blood thirsty, brainless thugs. Survive. Get this...holocron or whatever it is. Survive. Leave the stronghold. Survive. Get to that smug merchant with the holocron. Survive. And leave the planet. Alive."

Iago turned his face towards Ceres looking for her agreement.

[member="Lew Nailati"] | [member="Ceres Aurellian"]​

 

[Mav Halo]

[member="Lew Nailati"] | [member="Iago Ferrier"]​

Leaning against the hull of the shuttle, Ceres waited quietly while Nailati made his final assessment, arms crossed across her armoured chest to ward off the chill that was gradually setting in with the sun's descent. Three against three hundred. Those were some long odds, sure enough. Longer than those they'd experienced even during the waning days of the Republic.

"BOHICA." The Corulagi pilot muttered in agreement, her expression as flat and neutral as her tone of voice. Her mood tarnished not so much by what potentially lay before them, more the events that had already transpired to bring them to this juncture. While command ultimately lent itself to Lew, the Starling was her responsibility. Its failings, technical or otherwise, rested squarely on her deceptively slender shoulders. "They have the numbers, weapons and fortifications. We have surprise."

A small comfort. Especially given that it arose from the simple fact that no one in their right mind would attack the fortification with so few numbers. Her tongue clicked, her gaze shifting from the rogue to their captain, back automatically straightening. Her military career may have been a smouldering collection of ashes in their wake, but there were simply some aspects she couldn't quite shed. Even now. "Call the play, sir. How are we doing this?"

How are we doing this and surviving.

 

[Zeradias Mant]

He was happy to hear at least one of his compatriots had his back. "I knew you were a spook, Iago, but I never had you pegged for a coward. I thought you lived for the thrill.", Lew jested with a chuckle.

"Getting in is the easy part.", Lew said, walking back to the shuttle. After a few short moments of uneasiness, he reemerged carrying a grenade launcher. "Once we're inside, that's where the fun begins. We'll play it by ear. Like always."

Walking to the ledge, he stepped off, sliding down the arid permafrost without much strain or imbalance. It took a solid minute, and the frigid air against his face did not do well with his tear ducts, his eyes watering as he reached the ground. He advanced as close as he could behind cover and concealment without alerting the Snivvian gang. As the group neared, he took aim and launched the grenade adjacent to the entrance of the stronghold they hung out near. A muffled sound came, quiet enough no one further than ten meters would have heard. The explosion that followed garnered the attention of everyone though, drunk, high, or sober. Scrambling to recollect their wits, they began rushing the the sound of the explosion to discover it's origins and the extent of the damage. By the time they'd see a simple black crater in the ground, the trio would be inside already.

Inside was surprisingly more sophisticated than the rough exterior would have led you to believe. It was hardly primitive, and despite being a little messy, it was almost impressive.

"If I was a Snivvian gangster, where would I put my valuables?", he asked himself. Lew knew an incredulous amount about the galaxy and its inhabitants, but Snivvians and some of the more fringe worlds didn't garner the same attention a more historical society or planet would have gotten. In this though, he had little idea at the moment, and was hoping that the resident scoundrel might have some relevant experience to help guide them. Otherwise, it was just going to have to be a disorganized search. Out of the frying pan an into the fire...there's an idiom the group couldn't seem to escape.

[member="Iago Ferrier"] | [member="Ceres Aurellian"]​

 

[Zef Halo]

Smug. That was Iago's opinion of Lew. He was all Iago wasn't and did not want to be. Organized, rule bound, guy in a uniform. He hated it. Didn't mean the man did not do his job right. He did. But he was a smug to Iago.

And Ceres?

She was an oddball. He knew that right from their first meeting in Sith space. Some moments she kind of reminded him of himself, rarely but she did. The rest of the time Ceres was as odd as they get. A weirdo. The scoundrel wondered how she'd learn to fly a piece of junk like that so well.

"Snivvian or not, all them kings, be it royalty, be it a gang chief or whatever..." Iago spoke as he followed the two, gun spinning in his hand before stopping it. "Keep their treasures at their throne. It's the safest place and it's a show room at the same time."

The scoundrel pointed his pistol upwards towards the stairs and shook his head with a smirk.

"I'd think twice before goin' up there this way." He shook his pistol and turned his head at where his gun was pointing. "If ya ain't blind you're gonna see a couple o' gray balls in the corners. Laser detection system. Basic security. They all pointin' at that staircase."

"Usually, there's either a terminal with a passcode to disable 'em or as newer systems are - those with access to upstairs got a datacard or a chip of some sort on them. Laser scan 'im, register the chip and he's a ghost to the lasers."

Conveniently, a duo patrol were showing up behind the corner at the top of the stairs going down.

Iago gave the two of them a comic shrug and his signature shady smile.

[member="Lew Nailati"] | [member="Ceres Aurellian"]​