Death to Deathsticks: Entering The Ring

[Talo Geist]

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CORUSCANT----MID-LEVELS----0100 HOURS GALACTIC STANDARD TIME

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As the small shuttle neared it's destination the on board holocomm powered on, displaying the flickering image of Imperial Agent Talo Geist. Being that both parties were on the same planet and relatively near eachother the signal was crisp and clear, almost as if he was right there but smaller, bluer and translucent.

Good morning Lord Fleck, Agent Corser.

Talo nodded to each in turn.

This mission is going to require some delicate work, and is paramount to the success of this initiative.

The premise of the mission is however quite simple. Your goal is to infiltrate this drug ring -by any means necessary- and learn everything you can about the supply and distribution chain.

Coruscanti police have been instructed to turn a blind eye where you are concerned, please try to keep this fact quiet however as it may tip off members of the ring.

Lethal force is authorized where absolutely necessary, however it is not advisable to use this privilage openly or heavily.

Good luck, make the Empire proud.

Briefing delivered, the image flickered out. The shuttle would be landing in two minutes, and from there the fun would begin.

@Alhon @Herrith​

 

[Percy Fleck]

Percy watched the holo transmission snap off, still running over the salient details in his mind. Getting information out of people was his bread and butter, no tall order most of the time, particularly if the people concerned were already drug-addled and out of it. The difficulty here would be sticking around long enough to get the chance.

At least he was dressed for the part; stylishly ripped jeans and a low cut shirt under an open dark jacket. His play was a young middle class addict and minor dealer; smart enough to stay functional and wealthy enough to put nice clothes on his back. He was hoping the drug ring members would want his custom and his credits, or if not those then his toned bare chest. Whatever it took to get their guard down.

“So what you thinking?” he asked his counterpart, a rather impressive Zeltron reclining opposite him. They’d done introductions, but beyond her name she remained a mystery. He hoped she didn’t plan to stay that way.

There were no secrets from Percy Fleck.

@Herrith

 

[Sylvie Corser]

Sylvie sat impatiently in her chair, rather excited that she had been given an actual assignment besides desk jobs and secretary business. She looked down with a wide smile as the briefing finished, readjusting her leather jacket and looking toward her partner in crime. Essentially she was posing as--who else--a typical Zeltron looking for easy money and a fix. Especially in high demand considering their persuasive abilities, so surely she would have little to no trouble with getting in. Plus, Zeltrons make everything better. Even organized crime. She wiped her hands against her jeans with a slight chuckle as the man asked her about her thoughts. There were a lot of them.

She laughed again as she gathered her thoughts, speaking with quite a bit of excitement and ditching the Imperial accent she had used for quite a while. The Zeltron in her was starting to shine in more ways than one.

"Thinking? Ah, if I'm gonna do this right I can't be a Zeltron that does much thinkin'. Nah, in all seriousness, love, this is gonna turn out great. I'll play my part of a dumb Zeltron, you be your junkie or whatever the hell it is. Don'cha agree? Anything I'm missing here?"

Probably a lot she was missing. Whatever.

 

[Percy Fleck]

Sylvie Corser was a bundle of energy. Percy couldn’t quite decide if the girl was a firecracker or just a mess, the nonchalant laugh making it difficult to decide. On the one hand she didn’t seem to take their assignment too seriously, but perhaps that was the perfect cover. The young Sith had seen the twinkle in her eye; he was inclined to wager she knew exactly what she was doing.

He considered suggesting they try and rock a boyfriend/girlfriend pairing; a young, spoilt couple with twice the buying power. But putting Sylvie on his arm would close off other options, and he needed every possible play in his pocket. These drug rings were a dirty business.

The shuttle slowed and set down round the corner from the target outfit; a seedy bar by the name of Vigos. Percy undid the hatch, smiling in Sylvie’s direction.

“The two meatheads outside the door look more your type than mine missy. Fancy using a bit of ‘dumb Zeltron’ to get us inside?”

@Herrith

 

[Sylvie Corser]

Sylvie winked at him as she hopped out the hatch, stepping into the relatively busy street and straightening the collar on her jacket. She looked back to find her partner requesting she 'got them inside' with nothing more than wit and charm to a couple of idiots guarding the front entrance. Who even has guards for a bar, anyways? That just screamed suspicious unless you were stowed away in some Outer Rim dirthole. She comically rolled her eyes before crossing and uncrossing her arms in a mock pout, finding something to say to her stoner friend before she walked over.

"Hey, not very nice to call someone dumb if it's true."

Sylvie stuck her tongue out before waving him over and approaching the two guards, stopping suddenly a meter or so before them and patting her pockets. She cursed under her breath and looked back down the street as though searching for something, then turned and cursed again. The Zeltron turned back to the guards and smiled nervously, walking up as though embarassed about losing something. She urged Percy to come her way again, telling him to hurry before returning her focus to the guards.

"Ah, I karked up--forgot me identification.."

 

[Percy Fleck]

“You haven’t?!” Percy feigned annoyance at Sylvie’s lost ID, glancing at the guards with a look that said she did this every weekend.

“Well I’m sure these guys don’t think your underage honey” he offered, looking from one bouncer to other as if it anything else would be an outlandish suggestion. “Right chaps?”

“It’s not about that” the larger one snorted “gotta check everyone, that’s what the boss says. You guys could be illegals, or the law poking around”.

“Do we look like the law?” Percy explained, slowly working the persuasive power of the Force into his voice. He opened his jacket wide, hands in his pockets, stressing their casual attire. “And illegals? Come on, we’re not some grubby alien scum from the backend of beyond”.

“Your boss wants people like us in there” he reiterated, nudging the bouncer just that little bit more with his mind. Suddenly, like an egg under pressure, he felt the man’s weak will collapse.

“Yeah, you’re right” he said, ignoring his counterpart’s concerns. “Head on in”. He stood back to let them pass and Percy strode on into the bar, motioning to Sylvie to follow.

They needed to find the right people and get talking to them. Where the deathsticks coming from and who was running the distribution; easy enough questions when you phrased them completely differently over a strong drink.

@Herrith

 

[Sylvie Corser]

Sylvie exhaled sharply and gave Percy a very annoyed look as he played along, turning her gaze back on the guards holding down the fort. She pursed her lips, trying to act sorry and checking her jacket a second time to make sure she wasn't missing her ID. The Zeltron shrugged while her partner in law perfectly executed the whole 'my bad' routine and got them the guilt trip. She honestly probably made it easier because of her pheromones--then again, she had been pretty much invisible throughout the entire exchange.

Grubby alien scum. Oh, like me? Sylvie scoffed slightly and nodded, supporting his remark.
"Oh, thank you so much!"

She squeezed between the two meatheads and joined Percy in scanning the establishment. Now they were in--and ideally the toughest part of this trip was already over. They just had to find out how to work together and get into their little crime syndicate. Just another kriffing day at the office.

@Alhon

 

[Percy Fleck]

They made their way inside and down the stairs. The club wasn’t particularly big. A dive like most places of its kind in this part of the capital, it was roughly rectangular, wider than it was deep.

The centre was dominated by a large, brightly lit circular bar, manned by scantily clad barpeople of both sexes. To the far left was wide dancefloor, with pulsing lights and several groups of partgoers already in full swing. To the right, two dozen other patrons sat and smoked in dimly lit booths, the smell of deathsticks heavy in the air.

Three potential sources of information, each potentially harbouring the secrets they sought. To break the drug ring, they needed to get to the heart of how it worked. Supply; where did the deathsticks come from in the first place, and Distribution; who were the main players in selling them on to customers.

In their roles as willing buyers, both Percy and Sylvie were well placed to find the answers. Delicately of course. Asking questions too directly would get them in trouble fast in a place like this.

“I’m gonna go have a little dance dear” he said to Sylvie, leaning close to speak in her ear. “By the looks on some of their faces, I’d say the early birds on the dance floor are well into the deathsticks. I’ll leave you to try the bar or the booths, see what you can learn”. He winked at her slyly, parting company to pickup a drink and head over to the dancefloor.

Sliding into a narrow gap between two groups of revellers, Percy took a swig of the rum in his hand and did his best to look like he was waiting for his company.

At such close quarters, it was impossible not to brush up against others. The young Sith let his good looks do the rest, making eye contact with a young man with blue skin and a painted face. The man broke from his group and danced towards Percy, looking him up and down over the rim of his drink.

“I like your top” he smiled, “you here all alone?”.

“Waiting on my friend” Percy lied over the loud music “but I think she’s got distracted with some guy”.

“What about you?” the painted man asked without pause “do you get distracted by guys too?”

“All the time” Percy replied, green eyes smouldering. He hadn’t missed the fact the guy was an alien, but he also had a deathstick in his hand and plenty of alcohol in his system. The young Sith was willing to overlook everything else for now.

“Can I try that?” He asked, taking the stick from the alien’s hand without waiting for an answer. He took a drag, confident the one wouldn’t cloud his powerful mind.

The painted man smiled and drew a little closer. Further into Percy’s web.

@Herrith

 

[Sylvie Corser]

Sylvie nodded and pat the man on the shoulder playfully as he went to wander the crowds. She looked toward the bar and then walked toward it, eyeing her audience and getting a feel for how this was going to go. A lot of druggies in the room. It'd make using pheromones a lot easier. The booths probably weren't the best choice for her here, seeing as she knew no one and walking into a stranger's party would likely be ill received--prettiness or not. She approached one of the bartenders, pointed to a glowing bottle of alcohol and setting down some credits, winking toward the woman who happened to be the worker who was paying attention to her. The Zeltron grabbed her glass once it was served and held it up to her lips.

A man, human judging from his relatively generic appearance, bumped her on the shoulder lightly and apologized. Wild, untamed eyes fell under a curly mop of hair that stood set on his head. He was on something for sure; just how much was to be determined. She smiled and apologized, acting like being in the way was her fault. He took the bait and therefore took the blame, taking a sip of the substance in his hand before pulling out a deathstick from a pocket to put in his mouth. But he hesitated and spoke.

"You know what, I think I'd better do my good deed for the day. Want one? It's free, I promise. At least free of credits."

Sylvie paused for a moment and let her smile grow slightly. She plucked the deathstick from his fingers and took a long drag, leaning in slightly to both exhale and let her pheromones be that much more useful. Her eyebrows slowly raised as she put it in his mouth and spoke her turn.

"Well, I'm rather glad it's not costing me anything--I'd hate to burn all my worth on something so..not worth it. Get me?"

Percy was probably busy with someone else. For now, she had the whole bar to herself. Good.

 

[Percy Fleck]

"I'm liking it" Percy said gleely, handing the deathstick back to his prey. "I used to do a little spice, but that's got a whole different kick". The young Sith danced a little closer to the smoker, brushing up against him almost as if by accident. They shared a few more drags on the thing, passing it back and forth between them. The young Sith disliked each of them equally, but there was nothing for it. When in Coruscant.

"Mmm" he sighed, green eyes fluttering as if in pleasure. He took the painted man by the hip, careful fingers working in concert with his sheer force of personality. "You look like the kinda guy in the know" he whispered, "know where I can get some of these? I feel like they might just be my favourite thing now..."

He let his gaze drop noticeably, looking his companion up and down. "Well, maybe second favourite".

The painted guy smiled, drawn helplessly into the Crusader's ploy.

"Sure" he replied, never breaking eye contact. "Marco's your guy, always sits in the third booth, by the slot machine. Everyone in here gets them from him. He's not cheap, but I can talk to him and see if he'd do you a deal".

"You'd do that for me?" Percy asked, mock surprise in his silken voice. "I'd really appreciate it. Have to thank you properly though - I've got a little place out in the Colonies; we could take a trip and you can show me how to properly smoke these".

The man pulled him close, the peck the only answer Percy needed. He leant into the crook of the guy's shoulder, spying Sylvie across at the bar.

Marco he sent, speaking through the Force. Marco by the slot machine. Find out where he gets them.

With any luck, they could have their answers while the night was young. Maybe then he'd spend a little more time with his new helpful friend, and follow up business with pleasure.

@Herrith

 

[Sylvie Corser]

"I did say free of credits, didn't I?"

"You did."

"Can I buy you a drink?

"You can."

He turned around, and a voice appeared in her head. It was Percy's. She looked around briefly, making sure he wasn't just yelling or clearly speaking somewhere. No, that was in her head. She blinked, her smile fading slightly before returning. She kept the act, joining him at the bar while also looking for 'Marco by the slot machines'. Sylvie only spied one person sitting there. She returned her attention to the guy who had been talking to her and accepted her drink. Had to break free of that one for now. The Zeltron pointed to a bottle sitting on a shelf and vanished while the man paid for drinks. He probably wouldn't be looking for her. Hell, he might have been so high that she was a figment of his imagination.

Off to the slot machines. She waltzed over, weaving through the crowds with a shudder. Having a voice in her head was a bit weird, but she supposed she had to get the job done one way or another. She approached the loner t the machines, sitting down in the seat next to him and fumbled for some credits, sighing dramatically and cursig under her breath, hoping her stress would transfer to her favor.