Ooh, Shiny!

[Herrith Hendarsin]

Taris
"Diamondback Saddles" Cantina
1712 Hours, Galactic Standard
Herrith Hendarsin
@Deviant (Art)
THEME

Herrith popped the top off a bottled beer, swiping through the datapad set before her. Some random holonet emails...mostly people she'd promised her contact information...but of course, the Zeltron never did promise anything else, after all. How devious that was. Mostly a bunch of junk and empty requests to go watch a movie sometime. Pitiful. She scoffed, shutting down that feature of the pad before opening up the Guild network, checking for anything new. She sighed. Nothing. Checking her watch, the Zeltron grimaced and shut off the pad. Three minutes to meeting this guy. The sense of dread had already hit her hard. She hadn't liked him a whole lot, but that was over messages. He could be very different in person.

That just didn't seem like the case, though.

There was almost nothing about him. His info was pretty cryptic at best. Sya could hardly scrounge anything else up. But then again, she was a thing, too. A ghost just the same. Anonymity, her friend. He could be just like her. So why was she freaking out so much? It didn't matter. Taking a sip from the recycled glass bottle, the woman eyed the doorway, waiting for someone to enter who even remotely looked like her contact. Of course, it was a cliché meet up. A secluded cantina on an underworld. Fun times. But then again, it worked real well. She brushed her hair aside one last time and took in a breath, exhaling with ever so much of a waver.

 

[Leviticus]

Taris. It was the second time Leviticus ever visited the planet, and he prayed it would be the last. Like Coruscant or Nar Shaddaa, the world and its cities were not pristine, especially in comparison to Serenno or Alderaan. Advertisements adorned on every glass spire, drunk mercenaries wandering in every cantina, spice dealers and smugglers lurking on every street corner. Of course the Sith Lord didn’t like it. The world was one he was entirely unused to. But, he could deny the perks and advantages it brought. Advertisements for businesses he pupated, mercenaries he could buy on a whim, smugglers he could hitch on for secret operations in the blink of an eye. The opportunities here were endless. And that was exactly why Leviticus had come.

Sliding into the shoddy confines of the cantina, he glanced around in search of his contact. A fairly up-and-coming smuggler by the name of Herrith, she was a Zeltron with a knack for stealing shit and doing it fast. Which was precisely what the Sith was looking for. He needed a scapegoat, and one fast enough to get him what he needed, and Herrith was the perfect person for the job. While he wasn’t sure whether or not he would enjoy her company, it didn’t matter. So long as she got the job done and done right, Levi couldn’t give a single shit. If she could deliver, so would he, because a neat handful of credits awaited her at the end of this mission. If she couldn’t deliver, well, then his lightsaber would be waiting too.

Spotting the pink Zeltron almost immediately, Levi waltzed over to her table and slid into the seat opposite of her. Dressed in typical smuggler clothing, a cowl over his head and his face unshaven and unkempt, it was almost impossible to recognize the Sith Lord. Even if someone were to catch on, it wasn’t like they could do anything about it. None could dare question the Empire, else risk death, which was exactly what Levi had packing under his casual wear: a lightsaber and a second-rate blaster. And that was all he ever needed when it came to a battle. Although he would make every effort to avoid using the blade, if he was forced to and the female smuggler asked, he figured he could make up an excuse that he stole it from the body of an Exile.

Either way, now that he was face to face with the woman he was looking for, he smirked. “You must be Herrith?” A pause. “The name’s Levi. Just Levi.” Not very original, but enough to cover his tracks.

@Herrith

 

[Herrith Hendarsin]

Herrith watched as a man dressed in what would pass as smuggler's gear walked in. Yeah..pass if this was my grandparents' time, maybe... Either way, he fit in. Maybe a bit too well. As he approached, she realized this was the guy. There was an odd sense of dread that hit her, slightly worsened the nausea, which was dulled by the alcohol in hand. Maybe it was just in her head. Maybe her empathetic abilities were getting to her a bit too much. Either way, it sucked, and she dismissed the thought as he sat down, put on a charming smile, and introduced himself. Levi. Nothing else. It made sense not to get too personal. Neither of them knew each other very well...that was a good thing sometimes, though. He'd probably just read her files and that's all. Likewise for her. At least, what files there were. She waited to introduce herself, taking a long swig from the bottle, green eyes still watching him. One it was emptied, the Zeltron set down the bottle, wiped her lips, and checked the time. Perfectly on schedule. Great. First thing she chose to like about him. He was punctual.

Taking a moment more just to wait, her face blank, she replied. "Think you got the wrong Zeltron."
A brief moment more, and Herrith put on a smie, extending a hand to shake. "I'm kriffin' with you. I'm Herrith, yeah. Good to meet you."
She readjusted in her seat and straightened her jacket, ignoring the fact that her brands may have briefly flashed, the woman crossed her arms and continued, a half-smile drifting onto her lips.
"Glad we could finally meet. So, what'll you be needing from this humble Zeltron, love?"

@Deviant

 

[Leviticus]

Leviticus was not punctual. Not in the least. Lazy, laid-back, indifferent. The only reason he had arrived on time was out of pure luck, coincidence, and fate. If any of that could be believed. But the woman wouldn’t know that just yet, not until they were out on the field doing what was meant to be done. In fact, the female Zeltron and smuggler wouldn’t know very much at all. The truth that she was speaking with a Sith Lord and among the most powerful individuals in the galaxy. The reality that she would be embarking on perhaps her most risky operation to date. The fact that the chances of death were probably higher than the cut she would be receiving at the end of the whole mission. Indeed, she knew little compared to the man settled in front of her.

And he relished in seeing her drunken, oblivious state. Of course she didn’t know, and he could only imagine her surprise when he spilled the beans. But when Levi caught the brands burned into her skin, exposed for just a split second as she adjusted her jacket, he had a feeling that she may have been through worse. Or that perhaps she could handle what was soon to come. Not that he would complain. He needed someone strong or at least willing for the scheme had in mind. And if she proved to be greater than he first expected, then maybe he wouldn’t have to hide the fact that he was a Sith Lord. Maybe the pair could forge a new, unusual alliance. One between a smuggler and a Sith. But there were a lot of maybe’s and little certainty. So Levi would do what he did best and wait and see.

Ignoring her joke, he answered her later question. “There’s lots of thing I’ll be needing, Herrith. A partner in crime, a skilled smuggler. I’ve been told you’re one of the best, so here I am.” He slumped into his seat and crossed his arms, curious before he got into the gritty details. “What do you think? Are you the best, or should I be looking elsewhere?” He was testing her. Looking to gauge her reaction and response. “And no need to be humble, love.” He added, almost mocking her, but likely not enough for her to pick up.

@Herrith

 

[Herrith Hendarsin]

Ouch.

This guy had a knack for being cold. Oh, oh so cold. He was all business, and partial keetar freg for that matter, and no fun from what she'd seen. Though, it didn't hurt to keep trying to poke a laugh out of the Rancor. His statements about her skills were funny. Whoever recommended her was either talking about other kinds of skills, or was just plain insane. She laughed, a quiet and long-winded expression that only stopped once she needed to take a breath. Levi probably thought he was drunk. One bottle didn't get her anywhere in that case. Right. Drunk as a sober Republic spy who'd just shaken hands with an Exile. In other words, not drunk at all. Her analogies weren't as good as they used to be. Too bad. Oh, yeah. Right. Back to answering his wildest dreams about her smuggling with an anti aircraft cannon. She leaned back in her seat, still lightly laughing from what he'd just stated.

"Honey, if you're looking for one of the best, whoever told you I was a good choice was high on too much glitterstim."

She shrugged before continuing, winning at the end of her next sentence.
"But I'm known to turn a few heads and pull some moves here and there. That sound about right?"

He'd poked discontent with the way she spoke. It wasn't threatening, yet, or necessarily judgemental. Yet. That'd be determined as they progressed as partners. She knew he was probably judging her reaction to him referring to her as 'one of the best'. Hardly. She had given him an answer that was neither too boastful or humble, and neither too true or too false. Random acts of awesomeness were her thing. This guy could have been some kind of badass for all she knew. Or he was a broke bum that scrounged fake credits to get her ass busted. Both were possible. More likely was the fact that he was just looking for help. Though when the blasters started firing, she'd see what he really was.

The smile remained on her face, and she waited for whatever tempered reply that came back. This was gonna be fun.

 

[Leviticus]

This was going to be fun indeed.

Leviticus gave an interested though disapproving smirk. Not exactly the answer he was looking for, especially after he demanded she ditch the whole humble gimmick, but he didn’t sense a single lie in what she told him. She had turned heads, she had pulled a few epic moves here and there. She wasn’t the best of the best, or the most prominent smuggler in the galaxy, but Levi wasn’t looking for the most popular. He was looking for who best fit in the mission he had up his sleeve. Someone lowbrow and sneaky but who could adapt for the crazy or theatrical. Somehow, the Sith Lord was getting a feeling this pink Zeltron fit the bill.

“Almost.” He answered, thinking back to what he heard about her. Most of his advisors mentioned that he should hearken to the Hutt Cartel given the alliance in place, as well as their expertise in the field he was about to dive into. But he didn’t those two-faced slugs or faithless bounty hunters. Others suggested that he look inward, like another Sith Knight or Master to accompany him and ensure what he wanted fell into the hands of the Empire and their own alone. But again, he was tired of lugging along brooding dark siders. Tired of dealing with protocol or tradition or having to babysit. Instead, Levi was looking for someone unaligned, who could be easily bought, quickly trusted, and knew the Outer Rim well. That was when one last advisor brought up the idea of a smuggler.

That advice later trickled down to this woman, Herrith Hendarsin, who he heard of in passing. Flexible, not too diplomatic to be annoying. Someone who could turn heads but not too many, especially since the mission he had in mind required a bit of stealth. Fun enough not to be utterly boring. Pretty enough not to make him vomit on instinct. She met the guidelines, so he thought to himself: why not tarry a little? He smirked. “Alright, color me interested.” With a hand raised, he flagged down a serving droid who quickly appeared at their table with two glasses and a bottle of fine whiskey. A much better alternative compared to her recycled, bottled beer, he assumed. “Care for a drink before we get started?”

Of course, it wasn’t poisoned. In reality, it was among the most pure, unbridled and finest whiskey in this quadrant of the galaxy. The Sith Lord could afford it. And it would do good to coax the woman into joining his little operation once he gave the details.

@Herrith

 

[Herrith Hendarsin]

So Levi here seemed to take to her rather well. Good, she had a profitable job in her foreseeable future. And with someone that could afford whiskey like that, it was pretty well assured just how wealthy this man was. Despite not exactly looking the part. He was probably laying low. For all she knew, he was some kind of Sith lord with a six-bladed lightsaber and a prosthetic beard. She shrugged and smiled, leaning back in her chair.

"Pink tends to be the right color for interested. And a drink would be grand. Seems pretty careless to have your glorified bus driver a little buzzed. Not saying I would be. And not saying I haven't flown drunk before."

She winked and poured a bit of whiskey into both their cups, setting down the bottle and raising her glass in a sort of lazy toast. What to say was a bit of difficult, so she thought up something inspirational and dramatic sounding for the theatrics of their little scene here.
"To good fortune, and hopefully no chance of running into the bloody Lost Fleet. Cheers, love."

@Deviant

 

[Leviticus]

“A smuggler giving me a reason not to drink? That’s new.” He eyed the recycled bottle of beer in her hand. With a smug grin, he chuckled. Then in a flurry of movement, set down the two glasses before each of them along with the bottle of whiskey. The woman was raised well enough to pour him a drink and raise her own in a toast of good fortune, but then again, she still ended up a smuggler— so not so much. Still, Levi couldn’t judge. He needed her for what was to come. Something that would start as a secret infiltration mission, and once the dominos were set, everything would fall into place. Everything he wanted would fall right into his hands. Meanwhile, Herrith would be paid handsomely for her support.

He raised his glass. “And to a profitable week.” He smiled, expecting the young woman to hearken to those words. Either way, the Sith downed the shot of whiskey in a mere instant, and clearly unfazed, continued in what he was saying before. “Anyway, Herrith. I can fill you in more on the way there, but the operation is simple. We infiltrate the shipyards at Yaga Minor and seize control. Sounds easy enough, right?” He shrugged, pouring himself another glass to down. Needless to say, it wasn’t so easy. The shipyards, being located in the Outer-Rim, were ripe with a number of defenses in an effort to ward off pirates and men just like Levi. To take it would require stealth, skill and— well, some smuggling.

Why else would a Sith Lord look for help in a lowbrow smuggler? If he could have taken the shipyards by the strength of his own fleet or the power at his fingertips, he would. In fact, he already could. But he knew doing so may damage the yards and its manufacturing capabilities, and a head-on battle would mean casualties. Levi figured it better to just slip past the defenses and take control from the inside out, then his forces would sweep past the lowered defenses and Yaga Minor would virtually be his. Of course, that meant this Herrith had to be good at what she did if he wanted to succeed. If they both wanted to succeed.

However, he may have spilled the beans too early. If Herrith were to refuse now, then he had no reason to keep her around. There was no telling if she might sell his secret plan off to the very same shipyards. So, he wasn’t going to take no for an answer. At least, he would only with the lightsaber stashed under his jacket or the Force growing at his fingertips.

@Herrith

 

[Herrith Hendarsin]

Herrith downed her glass of whiskey, enjoying it for only a moment before it seemed to stop dead in her throat. She coughed, eventually setting down the glass and wiping her mouth. A job was a job. But a whole shipyard? Now that was just asking to get their asses beat by some government body with far better gear. Who was this guy? She blinked and put on a smile, about to deny his job offer and throw the rest of the pricey whiskey in his face. Normally, she would. But there was a buzz in the air, something that made her second guess her decision. No. Instinct. Or luck? She tipped her head in approval to the bold plan. It could be done. And the look in Levi's eyes suggested it would be done, with no denial about it.

The Zeltron inhaled shakily.
"Alright...I'm in. Credits are credits. But I'm not looking for a suicide mission, love. You better have a damn good plan."

 

[Leviticus]

“This won’t be a suicide mission so long as you actually know what to do and how to do it.” He lounged against his side of the booth, nonchalant and still utterly unfazed at what he had just told her. Infiltrating and seizing a shipyard was an operation worlds beyond what a lowbrow smuggler like Herrith might have been used to, he could imagine. But she didn’t have to do the dirty work. Just the flying. Still, he couldn’t have the young Zeltron biting her nails, then her fingers, off from concern. “But you shouldn’t worry so much, Herrith. You’re in good hands, that I can be certain.” A thin, knowing smile followed.

Indeed, she was. Levi was Leviticus, Sith Lord and one of the Council. High Arcanist, one of the most powerful men in the galaxy. It came without saying that she was in safe hands and under guiding wings. If she even considered betraying him or succumbing to failure, however, he would not hesitate to use those same hands to wrap around her throat and break her neck. But so long as she did as she was told, no harm would come to her. As for her ship? Well, there was no telling. A stealth mission it might be, there was bound to be a firefight. Although he expected she knew all the risks anyway. To her, he imagined her ship was the least of her worries.

“Oh, and believe me, I have a plan. I always do.” In other words, he didn’t have much. The only thing the Sith Lord had drummed up was for him and Herrith to slip through the shipyard’s defenses under the guise of an unscheduled shipment. Once there, the female smuggler would use her charm to distract anyone and the man would use his own “charm” to take them out of the picture, all until they reached the main control room. After that, he would summon his reinforcements and watch the shipyards fall into his hands. Of course, Herrith would discover he was with the Empire once his forces converged, but if she was really the indifferent smuggler he thought she was, then what was to care about?

Still, he had yet to reveal his underlying threats. Better she know now what would happen if she considered selling him out. So, before finishing his drink, he gave a friendly smile. “Also, just thought I should warn you. If you so much as think about double-crossing me, I will make sure you and your very existence is wiped clean from the galaxy. Got it?” There— that should do the job.

@Herrith

 

[Herrith Hendarsin]

Herrith propped her boots up on the table and listened while Levi explained his reasoning and assurance of the fact that she was safe while working with him. A sense of doubt was overridden and then reinforced when he explained that he had a plan without actually detailing exactly what his plan was. A cold feeling went into her soul when he threatened her meager little life, one of many death threats. This one was a bit better received, though, because he let out a decent smile to go with it.

She laughed quietly to herself, slightly nervous but still believable as real.
"I think I should warn you. I've heard those same words a million times over...but I'm still alive, aren't I?"

 

[Leviticus]

He caught onto her nervousness through the Force, but he did not at all expect her response. Then again, why should he be surprised? The Sith was talking with a smuggler, one who had thieved and stolen and wallowed among the scum of the galaxy for much of her life. Of course she had been at the receiving end of countless death threats, and to her, his would be no different. What he really didn’t expect was the implication at the end of her answer. What was she saying, that despite the threat of death, she could persevere? That she wasn’t afraid?

Leviticus scoffed. He hadn’t even revealed that he was one of the most powerful men in the galaxy. Of course she wouldn’t know the trouble she would be in if she tried double-crossing him. Either way, Herrith was likely just implying that she wouldn’t ever dare go behind his back. Maybe she was the loyal little dog she was meant to be— or maybe not. In the end, Levi would keep his guard up at all times. From in that very moment to the very end of the operation, his eyes would be set on Herrith for each and every second of the mission. And for a Sith Lord, nothing slipped past him. Except for the time. Which was growing later every second, as was his patience.

“So be it, Herrith Hendarsin. Just know that I warned you.” The man rose from his seat. His glass of whiskey empty and his eyes nearly glazed over from intoxication, he slipped out from the private booth. Rather than walk off and disappear into the crowd as he usually did, he glanced back to the young Zeltron and raised a brow. “Well, you’re coming, aren’t you? Let’s go.” He bit back a smirk. Driving drunk was not very wise, but Levi preferred it to waiting around for the rest of the night. They could rest on the way there. It would be a long journey, after all.

@Herrith

 

[Herrith Hendarsin]

Herrith watched the debate going on in Levi's head as she sat up, wondering exactly what was clicking and which gears were turning. Nothing like a puzzling statement to open up someone's head for examination. That was probably bad wording, as she'd had her head opened before. More specifically, it was a good statement to see how the man thought. There was a dark air about him, nauseating yet not at the same time. She couldn't place it, and that made it significantly more intimidating, but at the same time made her curious as to who this person was. There were evil types scattered throughout the galaxy. Some hid their intentions better than others. It seemed this man was normal, albeit greedy and threatening. But the most evil of people, proven by history, and the most insane people, proven by yours truly, had an air of charm and normality to them. His reaction affirmed that he was a paranoid man, and surprisingly intoxicated. She nodded before standing to follow, exiting first out the door.

"Please, just call me Herrith. Or whatever derogative term you come up with. Hendarsin's a family name I'd prefer to be rid of. Also, unless you've got your own ship, I wouldn't recommend leaving without me. Unless you've snatched my door codes somehow."

She smirked and turned around to face Levi as they walked off.

OOC - Herrith's recently been confirmed Force sensitive, but she doesn't exactly know what that means yet to deal with Sithies and Jedi.

 

[Leviticus]

“There’s not exactly many nicknames for Herrith, and I don’t really hate your guts yet— so Herrith it is.” He answered her, suddenly now trailing behind her rather than vice versa. “And no problem, Miss Hendarsin. We can just keep it simple with first names.” He called her by her surname merely out of spite. He never made any promises to demands like those. The Zeltron should just be content that he was calling her by an actual name at all. In the Empire, he referred to any Sith below his level by their mediocre titles or, as she mentioned, another derogative term. They hardly deserved his attention. But Leviticus was no longer in the Empire, physically. He was not accompanying a Sith Knight. Rather, just an scummy smuggler.

“Of course, I know. That’s why we’re going together. That’s why we’re going now.” He responded to her last remark, finishing with a scoff. What, did she think they would journey to the shipyards separately? They were going together, because given the inconspicuous look of her vessel, they had much higher chances of slipping through the shipyard defenses. And since it was her ship, she would be driving. Leviticus, meanwhile, would either be dozing off in the lounge of the main cabin or gazing emptily into hyperspace from the cockpit. Drunk as they were, the Sith Lord was impatient. He wanted to get going now before something else came up. The Empire was always brimming with news, after all.

In and out, he told himself. A quick trip, a blue milk run. Nothing more, nothing less. Needless to say, the man knew something was bound to go wrong. Or that this operation would take longer than anticipated, or worse, take an unexpected turn. That seemed to happen with Levi in just about everything he did. And he wouldn’t be surprised if the same went down with this mission too. He only hoped the young female smuggler was ready to take it on. But from what he took in from their conversation, and after everything she said, he had an unfamiliar feeling that she would do well. But that wasn’t all. There was another feeling too. More familiar, but he couldn’t place his finger on it. It was like the Force was calling out to him, trying tell him something.

Levi shrugged and brushed it off. There were more important things to do right now. So he thought.

@Herrith

 

[Herrith Hendarsin]

Levi really was a tough crowd. Most smugglers she knew were plenty open to her jokes. This guy had bad humor, or lack thereof. She felt the waves of nausea from lacking an adequate positivity in the area hit her like a three kiloton ship. Her smile faded briefly before it returned, now that they were entering the spaceport where she had parked the Zia. Glancing back at the man, she wondered what exactly he was. Too serious to be a good smuggler, too mysterious to be a wandering politician, and too...brooding? Yeah, brooding. Too brooding to be someone like her. You learned to look on the bright side of things when everything goes south.

Her ship looked like a rust bucket, though lacked the state of disrepair that it had been in thanks to her growing expertise on the junker and help from her friends. It looked old more than run down, now. And once it was done? One damn beautiful sight to see. That day would come soon. She dearly hoped, at least.

"Well, Mr. Serious, this is it. Zia. Doesn't look like much...but she can move like a dancer on glitterstim. Come on, I'll give you the tour."[/i]

She waved him over and opened the cargo ramp, happily climbing up the steps inside. Once he entered, she would put on a smile and speak jokingly. "Since you're drunk, and I don't let a lot of people on my ship, there's a master bedroom down there. I'll join you in a bit."

"Not really. Plenty of crash seats and stuff to pass out on. Ship's old, bit it's clean. I'll get us moving."

Herrith shut the ramp and walked off to the cabin to get them into atmosphere.

 

[Leviticus]

“Seriously? Mister Serious?” He remarked, already realizing the irony in what he just said, but by then it was too late. He continued on, poking fun at her quip and comparison. The Sith Lord knew nothing about smuggler slang or in reality, spice, but he found it quite funny. “And, I have absolutely no idea what that means, and I’m not sure if that’s a good thing or a bad thing. Should I be worried?” He knew he didn’t have to be, having already gauged Herrith’s intentions and examined her record as a smuggler. And by record, she hadn’t died yet on her many missions— so that was good enough for him. He trusted this particular operation wouldn’t be her last, because that meant it would be his too.

Stepping aboard the hunk of junk, Levi eyed and inspected the ship quarters. It certainly wasn’t like the lavish couriers or smooth corvettes the Sith was used to, but he had to admit, it wasn’t terrible. Lots of places to crash, some homey furniture or antiques here and there. It was cozy, for the most part, and since he was especially drunk, he couldn’t complain. “Huh, alright then.” He answered, his voice expressionless but the look on his face clearly intrigued. The man moved farther into the transport as Herrith closed the exit ramp. This was going to be a rather lengthy journey, and once they arrived it would be quite the mission, so he figured it would be best he get his rest now or never.

Without bothering to ask for further approval from Herrith, Levi simply walked to where she pointed out the master bedroom was. Hopefully she had another pair of sheets for him to sleep on, because there was no way he was going to lie on the same ones she used. There was no telling what weird shit she did there. Then again, pretty as she might be, he doubted the woman ever actually hit it off with someone. She was too rough around the edges, or so how the Sith saw her. His view of other people weren’t exactly… up to date. Either way, Levi would throw himself onto the bed the second he found it, new sheets or not, before drifting into slumber.

Once he woke up, he hoped they would have arrived to the shipyards he discussed: the yards of Yaga Minor.

End Thread.​