Kidnap & Ransom: Senator-style

[Saint]

Deacon wasn't sure about this plan. He didn't like the idea of crapping in his own flowerbed, but the Crime Lord of Coruscant had pretty much demanded it, and at that, he wanted them to target the Coruscanti Senator himself. It was put onto Deacon to run the entire operation. Great... just great... so this way, if it blows up in our face, he can put all the blame on me... Nice... He was less than thrilled about the whole thing, though granted, if done right, it would buy them some breathing room... at least on Coruscant... maybe.

The Slug's Hive was a rough and tumble cantina within the Grungeon Block of Coruscant's industrial area known as The Works. One could hardly tell if the Duracrete slug that arced over the passageway was a statue, or the creature itself, only dead. Deacon had chosen this place over the Outlander's Club because he didn't want to risk recognition and association with those who would be showing up here shortly. He liked to keep his anti-Coruscant Black Sun missions separated from his other contracts as it would help his front organization if it was discovered that he also operated against the local government directly. No, that wouldn't do at all.

Having rented out one of the back meeting rooms, Deacon sipped on a new favorite drink of his, Galaxy Rush, while he waited for the others to arrive. The room was sparsely-furnished and at that, rather rugged as well. Nothing plush like what the Outlander's Club had to offer. Usually, these rooms were used by the designers and engineers around the area, caring little for comfort and more for functionality. The chairs and sofas had clearly seen better days and the smell of industry was in the air.

Leaning over an overly-sized, dark scuffed-up table, Deacon was looking over a datapad that showed the Senator's daily schedule. With a thoughtful expression, he began to entertain ideas of when and where to strike. It would have to be someplace that afforded them some mobility and options. They'd need lots of options to move him once they took him down. Keeping clear of local security and law enforcement would be helpful too, though he was certain the Senator would have his bodyguard with him. According to the data they had, seemed he was rarely left unaccompanied. Bummer. That wasn't going to make this job any easier.

 

[Ender]

Shale stepped into the room, eye shifting (can you call them shifting?) He took out a cigarette, to throw off the idea that he was an android (Cause you know, he is). He made sure that his side arm was there, a Hutt Empire Officer's Pistol he'd nicked from...Well a drunk Imperial Officer. Shale continued into the cantina, and took a seat at the bar. Thinking of the woman that Burc'ya...No that he had known.

"What'll it be?" the bartender asked. Shale looked up at the bartender. "Oh..." he said quietly. He had no need for a drink, but if memory served him right.... "Corellian Fire Whisky." he said.

 

[Allu'rah Danan]

Across the bar, Daesha drained her glass of Ithorian brandy as she laid down her final pazaak card, scoring a perfect twenty and winning her third set and the match, relieving the intoxicated Rodian of sixty credits. It was as he slumped over in dismay that he vacated the Togruta's line of site, giving her a pristine view of the rather large man conversing with the bar tender. The last, unswallowed mouthful of Ithorian brandy sprayed across the table, accidentally adding insult to injury to the defeated Rodian. Apparently, it was one insult too much. The bug-eyed alien howled in rage and overturned the table, smashing empty glasses and scattering the pazaak cards across the cantina floor. He tried to pull a blaster pistol, but luckily for Daesha, it caught on the holster for a moment before he could get it loose. The delay was just enough time for her to also get to her feet and catch the Rodian's wrist, forcing it up and clear of herself and bystanders. The spectators of their card game were also on their feet, pushing and shoving to get clear of the struggle between the two aliens. The Rodian glowered at the Togruta for a moment, fighting against her for possession of his firearm. She wasn't about to give him the chance. A sharp headbutt solved the problem, and she let the unconscious deviant tumble to the floor. The vibration in her montrals from the impact left her slightly dazed, but definitely the better off. "I'll be taking this as a bonus, since you decided to be such a half wit," she chided, tucking the blaster into her belt. Truth be told, she really didn't care about the meager winnings from gambling, this job was going to be her meal ticket for life, if she could play it right.

But even though she was supposed to be meeting the leader of this operation at this moment, the human at the bar had Daesha's full attention. It couldn't possibly be him. Not after all this time. Even though she knew it was a bad idea to be pursuing her curiosity, she couldn't help it. She found herself leaning on the bar, trying to catch a glimpse of his face without catching his attention. "Barkeep, a refill please. And keep the change here. For the damage. Sorry about the raucous. Didn't mean to make trouble. Just here to meet some people."

 

[DarthAwesomus]

Kranon walks into the rugged cantina. He didn't care about the quality, as long as they served drinks, it was suitable. Lowering his hood and taking off his helmet, Kranon walks up to the bar and takes a seat a couple stools down from a Togruta female. "Hit me," Kranon says to the bartender, and keep 'em comin'." Kranon hadn't had a drink in a couple of days, and was in need to unwind. He had took on a pretty big load claiming the bounty of a Senator. He wasn't exactly sure how he was going to pull off such a big kidnapping. He had no plan; a matter of fact, he never had a plan. 'I'll just wing it' Kranon thinks humorously to himself.

 

[Saint]

Once again, the sub-contractors were taking their sweet time arriving at the meeting place. No surprise. Deacon was hardly worried though, there was a reason he had rented the room for the entirety of the day. Still though, it would've been nice if at least -one- of them had shown up, if not for anything else but that he'd have someone to talk to. Moving to the door of the back room, Deke pushed it open and looked out over the tavern area.

His gaze passed over the patrons there. Mostly industrial workers. A rough and tumble lot mostly, with your scrawny nerds scattered throughout. They were rare though. Just as he panned over the bar, a Togruta woman handed a Rodian male his ass, quite efficiently too. He found himself wondering if she was one of the sub-contractors for this gig. Initially, he didn't have faces to names, as most liked to play it safe. He smirked to himself as she relieved the unconscious Rodian of his blaster, tucking it into her belt.

"Well that was attractive," Deke whispered softly to himself. It impressed him when he saw a woman who could handle herself... and her would be aggressors. Quite impressive. Lingering for only a moment, his gaze passed over the other bar-sitters, noting at least a couple of others who certainly had more of the look of a capable, seasoned merc about them than that of an industrial worker.

One of the Zabrak waitresses sauntered up to Deacon with a sultry look upon her face. "Get you somethin' luv' hunk?" Deke smirked crookedly as he shook his head, grunting humoredly as he replied, "Nothin' like tha', no, but I will have a couple of Mongo beefhead sliders... light on th' sauce." With a light grunt of her own, as though she was mocking his turn-away, she replied in a seductive tone, "Suit y'self," and with that, she made her way back towards the bar, hips swaying with a bit of emphasis. Deke just shook his head. He was looking forward to getting this operation moving.

 

[Allu'rah Danan]

Daesha reminded herself that there was no possible way that burly man further down the bar could be Burc'ya. He was dead. Years ago. She knew that. And she had learned in her time mourning him that no amount of wishful thinking was going to bring him back. The man just bore a strong resemblance to him, and she was probably imagining the likeness to be greater than it really was. She was here to do a job, and she couldn't let herself be distracted or she would be killed the same way he had been. She gave a head a shake to try and regain her focus, then put her hand to her montrals to still the vibrations caused by the clattering of akul teeth from her headdress.

"Excuse me, sorry to bother you again," Daesha said as she leaned in to get the Bothan bartender's attention. His muzzle crinkled and his ears quivered with irritation.

"What is it you want now?" he grumbled.

"I'm here to meet someone. A Deacon Nash I think his name was. Care to point me in his direction?"

"Well, he's about twenty feet right behind you, the one with the red eye." With that, he handed Daesha a fresh brandy and took the credits she had left on the bar. She nodded her thanks and took a swig of her drink before she began picking her way through the rabble. It wasn't that hard. Most people had seen how quickly she had dispatched the Rodian, and weren't in the mood to start anything. And on getting a good look at the man the barkeeper had pointed out, she knew that he was also not someone to be trifled with. Certainly a good start. "Deacon Nash?" she asked, as she approached, trying to keep her voice at a lower tone, so as not to be overheard. "I'm Daesha Olan, the pilot you contacted."

 

[Saint]

"Deacon Nash?" the Togruta from the bar incident spoke softly as she approached him. "I'm Daesha Olan, the pilot you contacted." Good, so she was on this gig. How lucky for him. A capable hand. Krath though, she was the pilot... Would've been nice to have her on the ground team, but whatever. Least they wouldn't have to worry about her ship getting jacked when they needed her the most. No doubts, she would be ready when the time came.

"A pleasure t'meet you," he replied smoothly, dipping his forehead a bit in a slight bow of sorts. Deke met her gaze briefly, then shifted his own down her form, pausing at her waistline. "Nice blaster," he remarked with a crooked, knowing grin. "Where'd y'git it?" Erecting his posture, Deacon stood a bit away from the doorway instead of leaning against it. Tilting his head to the side in a gesture towards the back room he had rented, he added, "We'll be meetin' in here once everyone shows up. Thank-you for makin' it early." Technically it wasn't early, but she had certainly beat the others, so that was early enough, heh.

The waitress was just making her way back over to him with a couple of Mongo beefhead sliders on a plate. They looked delicious and completely unhealthy, with hot cheese melting down the sides and grease dripping onto the plate. "Thank-you miss," he replied cordially to the Zabrak before quirking an inquisitive eyebrow at Daesha. "You hungry? Iss on th' house. The sliders here are purty tasty."

If she went along and ordered a couple for herself, or even one, Deacon was going to hand her his own plate, hot from the kitchen, and order himself a couple more. A kind gesture to be sure, but it was better to be on good terms with your get-away pilot, than have tensions and wonder if they'd pull through for you. She was scoring points in his book on multiple pages, even having the sense to keep her voice down in her introduction.

Yup, he'd picked a winner here. He was sure of it. They'd -have- to do more business together in the future. They'd just have to.

 

[Ender]

Shale heard everything...unfortunately. The wave lengths matched her though. Daesha Olan...It'd been 4.7 years since they had met...Burc and Daesha had been...No he and her had been close friends. But right now what mattered was the man she spoke to. Deacon Nash. He approached, moving through the crowd silently, and came up to the man's side. He whispered "Shale Novarrin, you needed a gun?" then he glanced at Daesha. If he had a stomach, it would have flipped. But he didn't so he kinda gave a half smile instead.

 

[Saint]

One of the other hardened characters from the bar approached as Deacon was speaking with Daesha. Whispering quietly, he indicated to Deke that he too, was one of the sub-contractors that Deke had contacted in regards to this mission. Good, at least we have a couple. Might be time to start planning and moving soon, he thought to himself.

Dipping his head lightly towards Shale, Deacon replied, "Well-met Shale. I did indeed. We'll be meetin' up inside 'ere momentarily. Feel free t'order y'self some sliders or wha'not. I'm coverin' th' bill." With that, Deacon looked back over the bar area. There was still one fella who just seemed to be out of place.

Excusing himself politely from Shale and Daesha, Deke made his way over towards the blue-eyed, black buzz-haired human (Kranon). Standing beside him as he appeared to be waiting to order a drink, Deke let slip, "You here on business frien'?" Turning his gaze towards Kranon, Deacon quirked an inquisitive eyebrow as he awaited a response.

 

[DarthAwesomus]

Kranon sat at the bar waiting on his drink. He didn't know what it was, but he could feel something was going on in the bar. As soon as the thought came to his head, a man approached him. The bartender handed Kranon his drink as he turned his head to address the man. "You could say that," Kranon said, looking at the man's cybernetic eye and taking a sip of his drink, "What's it to ya?"

 

[Saint]

Shaking his head lightly, Deacon replied, "Nothin'. Excuse me for takin' up yer time. Have a nice day." With that, he walked back towards the other two standing near the back room he had rented. With a warm, affable smile, he told them, "Guess this is it. Le's head inside an' figure this thing out."

Glancing over his shoulder, Deke made to see if the fellow from the bar was going to follow. He really wasn't in the mood for pissing contests or attitudes. He was the contractor. If they didn't want to play nice together, then he simply wouldn't have them on. That simple. Turning his attention back to the other two, he further added, "I was expectin' more, but it seems iss just us. Little more danger; little more pay."

He quirked an eyebrow at the shapely Togruta female as he further inquired, "You seem the capable sort in handlin' y'self. Would you mind takin' on more of a role in this than jus' the pilot?" Glancing over at Shale briefly, he turned his red-eyed gaze back to Daesha, "We could use another hand on th' groun' bringin' it in." He gave the merc (Shale) next to him a quick wink as well, a sly attempt to prompt his concurrence with the idea.

 

[Allu'rah Danan]

The smell of the cantina food made Daesha's mouth water. "That smells delicious. I'd love to try one..." She was aware of a figure approaching behind her, and turned around for her eyes to be completely level with someone's jawline. The familiarity of the voice made her mouth go dry and her stomach turn to lead. She looked up into his face, which smiled sheepishly back at her as he introduced himself to Nash. He used a name she did not recognize, but his face was unmistakable. "Burc'ya," she barely whispered, escaping from her lips as a murmuring breath that stuck in her throat. She barely heard Deacon pardon himself and didn't even glance at his retreating back. She was transfixed. "You're dead," she hissed, her gaze intensifying. "Four years ago. Ak'Tari tracked me down, told me in person... Executed on a job to infiltrate Jade Galactic... How..?" She was cut off as Deacon returned and began ushering them into the privacy and peace of the back room.

Daesha only really broke eye contact with Burc'ya once Nash addressed her directly, inquiring about lending her skills to the core effort. That made her even more uneasy about the job than she already was. She was hoping not to get her hands too dirty in this job. "I'm alright in close combat," Daesha confirmed. "But I'm not much for guns. And I'm certainly not much of a mechanic or computer slicer either. But I guess I could be a decent lookout, and I'm not too bad for tailing people either... But sure, if you need me on the ground, I'm your girl." She self-consciously shifted her weight to her right leg, and left unspoken the fear that her old injury from the fight with the akul would slow her down when they needed to move with all haste, and especially the fear that she would be left behind.

After a moment, Daesha finally pushed the control on the door and shut out the noise of the cantina. She scanned the room, eying ventilation shafts and dark corners. As she took a seat on one of the under-stuffed sofas and propped her left leg up on the table, she peeked underneath, checking for wires. "You sure this room is secure?" she asked Deacon. "You don't think the Republic Intelligence has started bugging rooms like these, to prevent people like us from making plans like this?"

 

[DarthAwesomus]

Kranon watched the man walk back across the bar. He thought that it was a little odd that the man would ask him why he was here. Maybe he knew more about the senator. Kranon decided to find out. Getting up from the bar, Kranon grabs his drink and walks over to the private room door. Kranon pushes the control to open the door and walks inside. Approaching Deacon, Kranon takes out a datapad with a picture of Daniel Rosado and tosses it to him. "Somebody who rents a private room in a cantina is never up to any good," Kranon says humorously, "I'm after this man, Senator of Coruscant, you know anything about him?"

 

[Saint]

"You sure this room is secure?" the Togruta female inquired. "You don't think the Republic Intelligence has started bugging rooms like these, to prevent people like us from making plans like this?" Deacon was -just- about to answer her when someone from the outside depressed the control to open the door. Apparently Daesha hadn't locked it. And why would she? Food was still coming. Moving on...

The merc that Deke had approached at the bar earlier pulled out a picture of the Senator that they were to kidnap, then made mention that he was after him as well. Great... Deke wondered what he wanted him for. Hopefully just information as Deacon had no real intentions on seeing the man dead; he just wanted to make a statement. That wasn't to say that he wouldn't kill the Senator if he had to, but he was more likely to sell him to the Hutts if things didn't go his way.

Holding a finger up towards the newcomer, Deacon secured the large door once again, shutting out the noise from the cantina area. With that done, he looked down at the picture which the man (Kranon) was holding. His gaze shifting up slowly, he inquired of him, "What's your intent with 'im? You lookin' t'kill him or jus' send 'im a message?"

Turning a glance over his shoulders towards Daesha, Deacon remarked, "Th' room's clean. On a city-planet like this, they can't possibly monitor every lil nook an' cranny where someone may say somethin' worthy of investigation. There's jus' too much space t'cover. None of my other operations hav' been blown when I've used this room." He gave her an amiable smile before turning his full attention back to Kranon (whose name he didn't know yet).

If this fella was after the Senator as well, it could bode well or bad for Deke and his crew. They'd have to come to an agreement first on what to do with the Senator if they were able to secure him, and it would have to be solid too. You can't have people you only half trust on a mission like this; wondering at every turn if they were going to try to double-cross you, stab you in the back and leave you hanging.

No, Deacon wasn't going to operate under conditions like that. Turning back towards Shale and Daesha, Deke gestured towards the roughed-up coffee table, "Ya'll go 'head an' have a seat. Make y'self comfortable. I'ma take care of this righ' quick an' then we'll proceed." With that, he gave the man at the door (Kranon) his full and undivided attention, awaiting his response which would determine Deacon's next course of action... or perhaps a negotiation of sorts. He'd see here in a bit.

 

[Ender]

"I was...." Shale said quietly taking a seat next to Daesha. He set the Fire Whisky on the table next to his arm. "Ace got to you then? Fell out of contact with him after....I came back, so to speak." he paused. This is the part where he would of taken a big breath before explaining something, but he had a noticable lack of lungs.

"I'm...Well..." Shale made a face trying to figure out how to say it. Finally, he reached in his coat, pulled out a knife. "It's better if I show you." he slid the knife across his arm, revealing a mess of circutry and metal.

 

[Allu'rah Danan]

Daesha looked up in surprise as the newcomer entered only moments after she had closed the door. But Deacon was handling it. He was the boss, and knew who to be expecting. She just assumed that this one was running late, one of the additional ground troops Nash had been hoping for. She nodded in his direction to show she was satisfied with his answer, and did as she was instructed, attempting to make herself comfortable on the lumpy sofa. She shifted aside to make room for Burc'ya as he took the seat next to her. He appeared to be struggling with how to tell her what had happened to him. Maybe he was fighting to find the right words, or still attempting to come to terms with it himself. But his next words made Daesha go cold as he drew a combat knife from his coat.

"It's better if I show you."

"Burc don't!" Daesha hissed, and she clutched her hand to her chest, recoiling from the blade's bite. Only when she noticed the blood trickling from her fingertips did she realize that she had grabbed the knife to try and keep Burc'ya from injuring himself. The wounds were superficial at worst, simply causing minor discomfort as they prickled and stung. Her stomach turned though as she looked from her bloody fingertips to the fresh opening in Shale's synthetic flesh. Her blood on the knife's blade was a cruel mockery of the wires and metal under his skin. Daesha was stunned speechless, and it felt as if the air was being crushed from her lungs. Her expression hardened as she looked back at him. His face lacked Burc'ya scars, as well as the familiar layer of stubble. And his eyes... his eyes were empty, completely devoid of the spark of life they had possessed when she last looked upon him. She worked to moisten her throat and mouth again, and finally found her voice.

"You're not Burc'ya Dar Marren," Daesha whispered, so that only he could hear her. "You're a copy, a pale phantom of a man I once knew. You're a ghost come back to haunt me after all the years I spent trying to forget him, barely more than a stranger. But it seems we're going to have to work together for the next few weeks if any of us want to make it out of this job alive. So cover that up, before you draw attention to yourself." Daesha wiped the blood from her hand on the couch's upholstery before curling her cut fingers into a fist and hitching her thumb into her utility belt.

"I know we should be making a plan here," she said as she got up and addressed the other two men in the room, "but if we're done playing meet and greet, perhaps we could head back to my ship and get everyone settled in, since it's going to be home for the next little while. Once we figure we can trust each other enough to commit grand conspiracy together, then we can start making our plans? Keep in mind that if we're unsuccessful, this will possibly result in our deaths and certainly in permanent incarceration in a high security prison. I know it's a bit more time consuming, to take baby steps, but it gives all a little bit more time to decide if we want to walk away from this, and it allows us to take our time planning. And, I must say, careful planning would certainly put me more at ease." She looked from Nash to the newcomer expectantly, eager to be back on familiar ground. Having spent most of the prior war smuggling for various crime bosses across the galaxy, including a few Hutts, all of Coruscant made her uneasy. The crew quarters and main deck of her own faithful ship would certainly assuage some her fears, more than the private room of some cantina ever could.

 

[Ender]

Shale was surprised when Daesha's hand grabbed the knife, and by the blood that mixed with his wiring. Sensors told him that he'd be fine...he disliked the sensors.

"You're not Burc'ya Dar Marren," Daesha told him. Some human expiriences remain, even when you're no longer human. One of those, was that it seemed like time slowed down for Burc. "You're a copy, a pale phantom of a man I once knew." Shale's emotions when into the so called "Depression State". For Burc though, he was sad.

"You're a ghost come back to haunt me after all the years I spent trying to forget him, barely more than a stranger. But it seems we're going to have to work together for the next few weeks if any of us want to make it out of this job alive. So cover that up, before you draw attention to yourself."

Daesha's words stung. Shale's face, the one remaining human part of him, showed one very clear human emotion. Sadness. You're not Burc'ya Dar Marren... her voice echoed inside his mind. A copy...pale phantom of a man... Shale wanted to scream. It'd been four and a half years since he was created, he'd been able to cope with it. It'd gotten better since then. But her words, tore all those wounds back open. A ghost...

Shale straightened, replacing the knife and taking a can of sealent out, wiping the blood out of the circuts. Kriff the circuts. Shale thought. Kriff it hard. he sealed the cut. Kriff you, you Togrutan ****. He angrily thought. The one friend I thought I might still have...gone.Kriff you, kriff dad, kriff Ace, kriff Erik. All of you, and then some. he finished, and replaced the can in his coat. He began massaging the shot of Whisky as Daesha spoke.

Kriff Jade Galactic. Kriff robots. Kriff my life. KRIFF MY KRIFFING DAD! Shale was going into a rage. Every spark in him wanted to scream, and plunge the knife into the circutry. But what was the point? Maybe he could change Daesha's mind....but if she was as stubborn as he remembered...A memory flashed into his mind. Of a man and a Togrutan female, outside a ship. The man bowed theatrically, and the woman tore off his helmet and slapped him. What a wonderful memory. The shot glass shattered in his hand, he had crushed it. "Ah hell..."

 

[Allu'rah Danan]

Daesha stiffened as she heard a glass break behind her, and glanced back to see the shards in Shale's hand, and the Corellian fire whiskey dripping down his arm. The look of anger and sadness in Shale's face wasn't lost on her either, and the Togruta felt a twinge of shame, but something else that Burc'ya had never managed to instill in her: fear. When she looked at the rage in Shale's face, she realized why Erik had become afraid of being alone with Burc'ya.

 

[Ender]

"Sorry" Shale muttered, slumping down. He felt like a little kid who had done something wrong, but it wasn't his fault. He frowned, slowly calming down. Maybe he'd get lucky and die this time. Maybe one of the RSF would catch up with him, put a round through his chest and kill him. He'd be lucky. He glanced up at Daesha, and frowned. Something kept drawing his eye to the Togruta...Just like before. If he could cry, he probably would right now. Oh well, he recomposed himself. He cleaned up the mess of glass with hsi hands. "We should get out of here." he said, keeping up his professionalism. "Too many ears here."

 

[DarthAwesomus]

"I'm not looking to harm him," Kranon said, Just lookin' to take him alive." Kranon wondered if he could trust these people. I mean, he had met this guy only 5 minutes before. 'Ah, I'll need some help anyways.' Kranon thought to himself. There was no way Kranon was going to be able to take a Senator alone, especially the Senator of Coruscant. "Oh, and by the way the name's Kranon, Kranon Vex." Kranon added.