Relics of the Past

[Paradox]

Nar Shaddaa,
Yirim's Penthouse

"How can you trust the people who respond to your job posting? I mean I don't trust anyone, but that's me. Just look at the roster though! One's a common criminal from the Cartel, underwhelming. One is a Force adept under what you believe to be a false name, that alone is extremely annoying. And the other we know more about thanks to the calamity on Shadowfax. She may be the worst one of the entire sorry lot; impulsive, reckless, often leaves a trail of destruction...I like her! But still, not exactly the cream of the proverbial crop. I don't like that they are going to be so close to this phase." Said a shadowy holofigure in the large penthouse, high above Nar Shaddaa.


"So sorry you're uncomfortable a few systems away in a palace," said Yirim with a dull look as he spoke to the two holographic figures in the middle of the room. "But her heart is more like his. She's not at balance but she is not our concern. None of our concern."

The pale Echani said this with a pointed look at the other figure who shrugged nonchalantly. Both of the figures were wearing strange ceremonial robes and masks that concealed their identities even though their transmissions were quadruple encrypted. Anyone could be listening. The other figure who had not spoken yet, simply shrugging until know, spoke. "Alright, alright. Calm down there. I can't help it! Well not the second time anyways. Sometimes things just happen and I have to act quickly so I'm not caught reacting."

"The past notwithstanding and moving back to your original inquiry. The fact is I don't have much choice. I have yet to fully establish myself though it is happening significantly faster than planned. My body is still weak so for now we will play the game we always have. They're just the types I need; a perfect cover group. It will look like a simple treasure hunt. They can keep the trinkets and I will get the prize we require for next part of our plan." Yirim crouched on his couch and bit his thumbnail absentmindedly. He had thoroughly studied the three coming to assist him in this endeavor and was not in the slightest worried about them. He found them lacking in some areas. But areas that proved useful.

It would be easy to manipulate the smuggler and the criminal, base instinct and greed seemed to motivate them the most which means it could also blind them. However...he would have to watch the one who called herself Nika. He wasn't sure what motivated her nor what strings to pull because she didn't herself. She was trying to find herself which could make her sharper to certain aspects that might otherwise be hidden. He was sure she already knew of his Force affinity as he did hers, which meant he would need to be more subtle. Yirim looked up at the still present figures, but they had long since grown accustomed to his habits. "We're going to have to be less subtle this cycle but maintain the appearance of such. I don't like to influence things directly unless we have to but we all see the end. They'll need more help."

"Agh!" Said the second figure in a huff. "I hate when you say that! It's the Cl-"

"Hey, I don't mind! Just means a lot more chaos and blood for me! Heehaha." Said the darker figure with a disturbing laugh.

"I've sent you both your new tasks. Study, plan, and execute. Be ready and stay vigilant. I have to go. My guests will be arriving shortly and then we must depart." Yirim stood up and all three figures bowed as the holograms dissipated. The Echani cocked his head to the side as his One, leader of his MagnaGuards, informed him of at least one arrival. He wondered who it could be but he didn't need to. He already knew; there was seventy-eight percent chance he was correct. He could see the end. It was going to get worse before it got better but this was the road to that better future. A more balanced future. He just needed to keep fighting and keep getting better. He went and sat on one of the three couches in the center of the room surrounding a table; the couch facing the door so he would see them and them he as they entered. This was going to be...interesting.

 

[Wolf]

"I think there is more to this situation than Yirim is disclosing. That being said, I am going to go along with his scheme because he has promised it to be a profitable venture, and I do believe that. I'll let you know when I'm back. I love you." Nakoma imprinted her telepathic words to text and sent the message to Zane as she made her way toward the home of her strange friend. She was wary of trusting the Echani that she had met on Kowak just a few weeks prior, but he had been kind and had helped the Knight find a way into the lucrative drug trafficking industry. While it was true that the raven haired woman was still finding herself in the mix of living as a Jedi and Cartel member, she was certain of one thing...she liked money.

Perhaps it was the fact that the Laku'na had been raised in a primitive setting, never knowing of the luxuries that the galaxy had to offer until she left the remote planet of Galtea to travel and train as a Jedi. Five years later, the woman found herself embracing a new philosophy about life and the Force, and chasing every opportunity of personal gain that presented itself. This happened to be one of those moments.

The Guardian was now just steps away from Yirim's door. She drew in a sharp breath, inhaling peace and exhaling the anxiety that had been nagging at her mind. If she had to be completely honest with herself, there was something off about this venture. She was prepared however, and armed to the teeth. For obvious reasons, the woman left her lightsabers under Zane's care while she was traveling with other members of the Cartel. In their place was a chrome blaster at her right hip and a heavy blaster rifle slung across her back. A set of throwing knives remained concealed within a pouch upon her utility belt and a long serrated blade hung in its sheath upon her right thigh.

The Knight's black boots nearly reached her knees, giving way to her black leggings which came to a stop just below her navel beneath her belt. A sleeveless black halter top exposed the soft caramel skin of her stomach and lower back, as well as her muscular arms. Her lengthy coal colored locks of hair were bundled together in a thick braid which swung over her blaster rifle with the natural sway in her step as she approached Yirim's door. Nakoma pushed a stray piece of hair behind her right ear before raising her hand to knock. Surprisingly, the door opened as if the strange man had been standing behind it, yet she had not even placed her hand upon the smooth metallic surface.

There across the room sat the pale faced man, a curious look to his overall countenance. He was a direct contrast to the olive skinned Knight as she entered his less than humble abode. A lopsided grin tugged at the corners of her lips as she set her golden gaze upon his dark eyes. "Well hello there friend...it was as if you were expecting me or something," her playful words slipped into the Echani's mind as she made her way to the couch adjacent to the one he was seated upon. Her heavy boots hardly cast a sound upon the floor as she seemed to glide with a supernatural grace to the sitting room. Without hesitation, Nakoma made herself comfortable.

"I suppose you are waiting on another...or possibly two? I would wager on two." The Guardian continued in a playful tone as she shifted in her seat, turning so that she could glance at the door and catch a first glimpse of the others as they entered. In the meantime, she hoped to garner more information about Yirim's intentions for this treasure hunt, as he had described the purpose of this trip. "Where is it that we will be traveling again?" the Knight questioned as she extended the tendrils of the Force from her depths in the Echani's general direction, hoping to catch a stray thought without invasively pulling the information from his mind. Traveling with acquaintances was one thing...traveling with acquaintances that had something to hide was something else altogether.

 

[Darkwasp]

The exotic smuggler’s beautiful brown curly hair bounced playfully, as she moved quickly through the crowded streets of Nar Shaddaa. Her sly smirk and confident posture made her look as though she had nary a care in the galaxy. Her gloved hand hovering anxiously over her MK-IX heavy plasma pistol, however, betrayed her most inner thoughts. She wasn’t particularly fond of this planet, and even less so of the district that she was currently traveling through. She was flirting dangerously close to Bromborda’s territory; a Hutt from her past, which she’d most definitely not want to bring into her present.

All it would take was for one of his cronies or old customers to recognize her flawless caramel skin or her salaciously curvaceous figure, and she’d have to deal with the Hutt and his friends for the rest of her life. Unfortunately for the rambunctious thief, she couldn’t tell whether people were eyeing her, because they recognized her, or because of her skimpy outfit. It was her favorite smuggling attire. It covered just enough to leave room for the imagination, but covered so little that it inspired the imagination. It was a physical representation of who and what she was. It was skimpy and flirtatious, but if you looked closely you could see the plethora of pockets and tools; both sexy and functional. She loved the outfit; how the diamond chain that rested just below her midriff wonderfully framed her name, boldly emblazed on her skin, and how it accentuated all of her most prominent features.

Her head craned to look up at the tall structure, which housed the Penthouse of one; Yirim Thrace. She sighed at obvious opulence of the place, as she moved through the lobby toward the lift. Like her clothes; the man wore his penthouse as a physical manifestation of his self. He was obviously a cocky and arrogant man, who felt that he was above everyone else. That arrogance showed in inviting an obvious thief, such as herself, into his home. Perhaps he didn’t quite understand what he was dealing with? That could be the case, seeing as she preferred not to flaunt her skills openly, and she had yet to be caught. Anonymity was a smuggler and thief’s best friend, though she felt that her sudden connections with Captain Locke would quickly rid her of that friend.

The elevator suddenly stopped between levels, as it passed the highest livable floors for the common folk. It was obviously a security precaution for the penthouse owner. She was sure that the elevator went right into Yirim’s apartment, and the building owners didn’t want any nary-do-wells, such as herself, blowing the doors off of the lift and strolling into Mr. Thrace’s penthouse. Bahati loved puzzles. She immediately looked up at the top of the lift toward the maintenance access panel. She could definitely go through that. The cables would probably be electrically charged from this point on; to prevent someone from climbing them. She had a small Feedback Looper in her pocket that could probably handle that…

Before she could complete her imaginary invasion into the penthouse, a vid-screen sprung to life making a sound akin to a phone ringing. When it stopped, Bahati spoke loudly; up in the air to no one in particular.

”This is Bahati Rehn. I’m here to see Mr. Thrace.” she announced; hoping that was what she was supposed to do.

 

[Paradox]

"Well hello there friend...it was as if you were expecting me or something," her playful words slipped into the Echani's mind as she made her way to the couch adjacent to the one he was seated upon. Her heavy boots hardly cast a sound upon the floor as she seemed to glide with a supernatural grace to the sitting room. Without hesitation, Nakoma made herself comfortable.

"I was of course. After our little misadventure, I knew I could count on you for another." Yirim said with a small smile. He still didn't trust her completely and it seemed the feeling was mutual. At least from the subtle nuisances he could gather. She seemed much more heavily armed tha she had been on Kowak and seemed much more a Cartel member now, but while she did enjoy money and luxury he still didn't believe she was just another criminal; not completely anyways. "Besides when we get back I thought we could tour my lab. If you really want to get involved, I could always hire you on. Part-time at least and then you could learn the ropes. Up to you."

"I suppose you are waiting on another...or possibly two? I would wager on two." The woman continued in a playful tone as she shifted in her seat. It seemed she was turning so that she could glance at the door and catch a first glimpse of the others as they entered; it was more curiosity than suspicion he supposed. It wasn't a secret who they were after all. But it was suspicion she now seemed to feel as her next question was more inquisitive with a slight undertone of intuition. Whether she was trying to read him or his emotions didn't matter though as he didn't really feel anything at the moment other than anxiety. Which would be completely normal in this situation. She telepathically asked, "Where is it that we will be traveling again?"

"All will be revealed time. One important lesson to learn is someone is always listening. In Nar Shaddaa never name people, places, or thing one wishes to keep secret." Yirim said with a sly smile and a bit vaguely. "And you were correct. I was waiting on two others but one of the interested parties has been missing for nearly a week. I've heard he often goes on benders so unless he miraculously appears only seven of us will be heading off into the unknown. You, me, our third member, and my four bodyguards. So now we wait, have some food, make introductions, and then we will depart."

The doors to the penthouse opened once again as the pale man turned to the new entry; Bahati Rehn. A smuggler and thief by trade, her skills could prove useful. She was wearing a provocative outfit, that didn't do much to the Echani, but he suspected she used her looks as a weapon and of course he had heard reports. She seemed very sure of herself. Yirim nodded to her from his place on the couch. He could only guess what she thought of him. His 'home' could offer an impression of opulence and arrogance, but his personal appearance was very difference and far closer to the 'truth.' He wore a simple white t-shirt and faded, ripped pants; nothing else. Not even shoes. His midnight hair was disheveled, his skin almost sickly pale, and his black eyes had evidence of insomnia as he rarely slept. He tilted his head as he studied the woman, "You must be Bahati Rehn. Welcome to my...home, I suppose it could be called."

 

[Darkwasp]

Bahati moved slowly into the room, allowing her almond shaped eyes to fall over ever inch of the luxurious penthouse; saving its occupants for last. Her gaze fell upon a woman, maybe in her mid-twenties, with similar skin to her own. The woman’s jet black hair hung straight, in complete opposition to the curly nest that rested on top of Bahati’s head. The exotic smuggler eagerly traced the woman’s thin face, with its slender jaw line, full lips, and symmetrical features.

"You must be Bahati Rehn. Welcome to my...home, I suppose it could be called." a man’s voice called out, wrenching her from her enraptured stare.

Bahati’s head moved toward the man first, her chestnut eyes taking an extra moment to take in the beauty on the man’s couch. When her eyes came upon the man, her head visibly jerked back, and there was a small frown on her face. She had read that Mr. Thrace was an Echani. This man had black hair and dark eyes. The only thing that held to the stereotypical Echani was his pale skin. The look only lasted for a split second before it was replaced with a smile. Her hand jutted out toward his in an attempt to shake it.

”Yep. Bahati Rehn. Pleased to meet ya.” she said; her words framed by a near perfect bright smile.

The man’s appearance was the total opposite of his home. It was very strange. If this was indeed his home, his appearance was almost as if he were attempting to rebel against himself. He obviously enjoyed the finer things in life, but he dressed as if he didn’t care about what people thought of him. To call the man a potentially eccentric rich kid would be an understatement. In a vein attempt to produce a smile from Yirim, she tilted her head in an angle to match his own as she approach.

Bahati sure hoped that this meeting went better than the last get together that she had with a bunch of mercs. The other’s had spent more time showing off than coming up with a plan to invade a prominent security firm. Needless to say; that job didn’t turn out very well. The only positive thing from that experience, was that she got to meet Joy; a young Twi’lek that could turn any garbage within a kitchen into a 5 star meal.

After greeting Yirim, Bahati quickly moved to the couch. With little flair or fanfare, she simple plopped down on the couch; smiling at the mocha skinned woman and then turning to Yirim in anticipation of a mission briefing. It didn’t take long for her thoughts to travel, filter-free from her mind to her mouth, however.

”So this is your place?” she asked, quizzically pointing a finger in Yirim’s direction. Her eyes examined the place in disbelief. Her mind continuously on the massive disparity between the grandeur of the penthouse, and the casual ‘I don’t give a Kriff’ look that the man portrayed.

 

[Wolf]

Nakoma nodded as her eyes searched Yirim's face. "Misadventures are my thing, apparently. I've been involved with too many to count." She laughed quietly as her words slipped into the mind of the pale faced man. "Besides when we get back I thought we could tour my lab. If you really want to get involved, I could always hire you on. Part-time at least and then you could learn the ropes. Up to you," he offered with a hint of sincerity that the Knight could not ignore in spite of the man's rather aloof nature. The raven haired woman returned a slight bow of her head and a smirk, to not appear too eager, though she was bursting inside. This could possibly be the necessary step to breaking into the lucrative drug trafficking industry that she had been waiting for.

"I only agree because 'Slither' is truly a work of art...and art is meant to be appreciated, by those that can afford to embrace it that is." A sly smile tugged at the corners of Nakoma's lips as a hint of mirth danced behind her gilded eyes. Yirim's answer to her question of where they were traveling was hardly surprising, and in a sense, she supposed he was right. He had been at this Cartel thing much longer than she, and learning from a veteran would not be the worst thing for her at this point. The woman slipped her finger over her plush satin lips as if to say "shh" yet she made not a sound. A wink followed before her gaze quickly shifted to the doors of the penthouse well before they opened.

Soon, a woman of skin just as warm if not warmer than Nakoma's entered. She possessed a silent strength and an exotic style of beauty that was uncommon in many of the galaxy's inhabitants these days. The Knight wondered where she was from and how she had come to be the smuggler that approached her and Yirim now. Perhaps the stranger's eyes lingered longer upon the Laku'na's face than she had expected or perhaps it was the way in which the woman looked Nakoma over...in either case, it caused the Knight's cheeks to burn slightly crimson beneath the natural caramel hue.

A warm smile touched the plump lips of the raven haired beauty upon the couch as she rose to her feet and offered her hand in greeting to the newcomer. Quickly, as if to avoid the awkward set of questions that typically accompanied Nakoma's only method of communication, she pointed to her ear and then to her mouth as she spoke in a voice that audibly sounded like the word she portrayed, "deaf, sorry". The two women seemed to find their seats simultaneously and the Knight shifted her gaze to the smuggler's face. "It is a pleasure to meet you, Bahati Rehn. I am Nika Fiore. I apologize if the way in which I communicate is alarming, but it has been the only way since I can remember," she spoke in a smooth tone within the woman's mind. It was somewhat musical and almost carried an echo as the words blossomed as if they were Bahati's own thoughts.

As the conversation shifted and Bahati addressed Yirim's home, Nakoma could not help but laugh to herself and nod at the woman's comment. She never would have guessed the withdrawn, aloof man who dressed like a commoner from the street to be living in something so...upscale. When she thought of the Echani, the words 'underworld' and 'seedy' came to mind. The Knight pushed the thoughts aside however and offered a smile at her friend. "Thank you for inviting us into your beautiful home, Yirim. You are full of surprises and I am looking forward to seeing what you have...planned for us."

 

[Paradox]

”So this is your place?” she asked, quizzically pointing a finger in Yirim’s direction. Her eyes examined the place in disbelief, which was understandable. There was an obvious gap in connecting his appearance with the grandeur that this luxurious penthouse offered. He couldn't exactly blame her but at least she wasn't as rude this meeting as previously when they had 'met.' Which means everyone he had considered for this endeavor had been under surveillance.

"It is now. Borga, the Spice King of Nar Shaddaa and Grand Lorda, gifted it to me along with my lab when I first joined the Cartel." Yirim said as he shifted in his seat and started to crouch in place, rocking on his bare heels on the luxurious couch. He decided it didn't matter as he wasn't particularly trying to impress them and abandoned all context of supposed 'professsionality,' for the sake of just getting to why they were all here. "It's a bit to opulent for my tastes and hardly defensible. Don't get me wrong, from an average ground assault it would be adequate but one gunship or a professional force could easily infiltrate, assault, or occupy this position. I really should fortify this place..."

Yirim bit his thumbnail as he tilted his head and thought about it, seemingly forgetting about the two women as he ran through about three hundred scenarios. He would examine the outcome of each battle and record the findings. There were dozens of ways to improve it, but for now he woulc come back to reality as Nika spoke to him, "Thank you for inviting us into your beautiful home, Yirim. You are full of surprises and I am looking forward to seeing what you have...planned for us."

"It's a pleasure to have you both here, but onto business." Yirim pressed a button on the armrest of the couch and the table between the three couches lit up with a holographic display. It showed the image of ship. "But before I can divulge anything we need to board the ship down at my personal dock. We met here first is because both of you were being followed since the moment you arrived. As I said before you arrived Ms. Bahati, there are eyes and ears everywhere. Even here in this tower. It seems someone may have caught a whiff of fame and fortune. One should be taking care of them now and then we can go. You'll have all the details once we are in orbit and I assure you both, the price will be worth the cloak and dagger."

"But any questions you have while we wait, I will answer if I can." He stopped biting his nail and sat back.

 

[Darkwasp]

Bahati paused slightly, her face becoming an amalgamation of alarm and confusion, as the beautiful woman spoke to her… in her head. The exotic smuggler had spent a good portion of her life avoiding Force Users, but her days – of late – had been filled with the mystical beings. At least this one seemed rather pleasant. Until now the Forcees that she had met were, annoyingly grumpy, grumpier, arrogant, arrogant and grumpy, and a Sith. The Sith had proven to be the least assholish of the bunch. This woman, however, was elegant and her voice was a pleasing. Maybe Bahati was being biased to the woman’s good looks, but she seemed to be the best Force User that she’d run into.

Bahati whistled appreciatively at the penthouse apartment, as Yirim explained that he had received it as a gift. It was a damn nice gift. That was for sure. She agreed that the place was open to assault, but pretty much any place that wasn’t mobile was in someway or another vulnerable. She leaned further back into the comfy coach, as Yirim moved on to business. She was slightly disappointed when he wanted to move the meeting to his ship. She wasn’t used to this kind of luxury, but she was sure that she could find a way to get used to it.

The exotic smuggler shrugged at the idea of being followed. Whoever it was, wasn’t being overly aggressive. And they could watch as much as they wanted; as long as Bahati got what was hers.

”What do we care, who’s following us? It’s not like the can do much. We’ll be acting, and they’ll be reacting. And since you already know they’re there…” she left the rest of the sentence to the others’ imaginations.

Standing up from the couch, she stretched her muscles which were growing overly comfort on the extravagant sofa. Without much fanfare she travelled around the couch, and stood next to the shabbily dressed man. She tapped her foot and fiddled with her belt, as she waited patiently for the man to lead the way.