Resistance Leaders ((Mercenaries United))

[Cainhurst Crow]

Cyrillia was a planet with quite a bit of history behind it. Formerly a part of the pod racing circuit and manufacturer of the iconic pit droids, cyrillia, and by extension cyrillians, seemed to be almost dependent on foreign galactic revenue to stay active and afloat. It had served as a booming case of industrialization spreading the wealth around the galaxy, before it became a fortress for both the galactic empire and republic, almost a millennium ago. Now, it was more or less abandoned, cities with more factories and manufacturing centers then actual housing, and almost all of it closed down in a depressing state of decay As san's shuttle cut through the air on cyrillia towards the planets surface, he did a final check list on his hole-communicator of what exactly they were suppose to be doing here on this run down remnant of galactic industrialization.

Resistance forces against the recently expanding sith empire were appearing around the galaxy, an inevitable and always profitable arrangement whenever two powerful forces went toe-to-toe. One of those resistance groups had popped up on this planet, surprisingly bold considering how close it lay to the empire's recently conquered territory, and they needed help. But more importantly then that, was that this resistance group had credits they were willing to spend on getting said help. San and a few others had been dispatched to help secure those credits, and san didn't doubt that they would secure them, as much as it would take to ensure cyrillia was in good hands and the resistance did well in this war.

'And of course, we'll need to see into setting up a nice recurring partnership from this deal...' San thought as he closed his holo-communicator as his shuttle came to the designated landing platform, slowing down and descending until it landed with a light bump of landing gear contacting the ground. San got up and adjusted his black and grey business robes slightly, making sure there were no wrinkles or marks, before he walked out of the ship and down the ramp. The landing platform gave a good view of cyrillia, it's sprawling industry zone giving way off in the distance to more residential and recreational buildings, not nearly as massive as the manufacturing centers for droids, but still sprawling and grey before just barely in view, the area became more natural areas of vegetation. The buildings weren't as tall as other industrial worlds, in truth they would all be dwarfed by those of nar shadda or curoscant, well, before it died, and certainly not as pristine, but they still held a power to them, an air of importance and distinction.

Truth be told, San felt rather at home here, it reminded him of a less bustling or thriving muunilinst. He blinked to snap himself out of his bit of nostalgia, he had a job to do after all, they all did. The meeting with the resistance leader had been set in this closed down factory they had landed on, in hanger 18, the one this landing platform was for. All that was left was to go down to the loading hanger, broker a deal that was favorable for the mercenaries united, and hope these resistance leaders didn't double cross them or kill them outright out of desperation. 'As routine as ever, I suppose.' he thought with a humorless expression as he looked around the area, spotting the doors leading to their hanger just 20 yards ahead, across a walkway.

 

[Ten10dix]

Cyrillia.

He hated industrial planets. They smelt bad. They looked ugly. They were always polluted. No matter which industrial sector you visited on any planet in the Galaxy, they were all the same. So tedious, so boring, no beauty. No bright lights, or charm. Nothing, just boring steel grey and thick, black smoke rising from huge chimneys. This place was abandoned, but the smell of metal could still be smelt and wisps of foul smoke rose from the quickly decaying factories. Why couldn't they meet somewhere nice? Like a beach, or a mansion? Damn rebels had no class.

Karl was waiting on the small landing pad, hands in his stylish great coat. He was wearing one of his nicer black suits, a black leather gloves covered his hands which he was currently rubbing together. He was leaning on the railing, looking out into the distance at one of the cities, all lit up. He could even hear the typical noises found in all cities, namely transport flying about like giant metal flies, buzzing around annoyingly. He hated the huge noise they made all together, like some sort of sick parody of an orchestra, playing their horrid tune over and over, their only concern was to further the fury he felt. He shivered, this place was freezing... As his breath left his body it formed a mist which drifted upwards, kind of like a pale, pathetic imitation of the smoke he was staring at in the distance. Very poetic, he thought to himself, as the shuttle came in and landed.

The ramp descended, and San Gunder walked down onto the pad. From what he had read and been told, he was a typical Muun: Greedy, ruthless and cunning, with an added pinch of charm and deception. He reminded him of himself, if Karl was to be truly honest. Maybe a bit more ruthless and probably smarter, but at least Karl was the better actor. He walked up to his new partner, and smiled, extending his gloved hand as he introduced himself.

"Trevor Lorn, glad you're finally here. We spoke briefly on the comms channel? The Resistance Leaders are inside the factory, waiting for us. We have some backup, but so do they. Hopefully we won't have to use it. I've just been informed that the price has changed again: the least we may accept is ten grand. I was thinking asking for 60 and we'll see where it goes from there."

 

[Tank]

Cyrillia.

The planet was brimming with potential. The industrial sector, while slightly downtrodden now, had the potential to rival that of Annaxes. The industrial plants, the workforce, it was all there. It was just slow, inefficient and uninspired. Not to mention the ridiculous environmental clans of Cyrillians. They’d been around since the beginning of the industrial operations on Cyrillia all those millennia ago. But here lately they were growing in power, they were beginning to gain seats in the local government and that just couldn’t happen if Tyranius’ plan was to work. The environmental clan, at the one located nearest Tyranius’ specific plant, needed to be destroyed. If the Cyrillian’s began to see that opposing the restabilization of their industry would lead to destruction, than Tyranius could really begin to gain control of his sector of the planet once more.

“Sir, the delegation from the Mercenaries United have arrived. Looks like a Muun and…a human I think. They’ll be arriving momentarily. Any final orders?” Tyranius’ aide asked.

“No, see to it that our security force is adequately hidden and doesn’t intervene unless we’re truly in harm’s way. You have the specifications on hand correct?” Tyranius asked. The hanger they were meeting in was quite small; intended mostly for starfighters and storage. Tyranius’ aide handed him the specs for the base the Mercenary United members would be taking. He’d looked over them, brooded over the clan’s base of operations, for months. He just hoped he had enough money to pay for the Mercenaries for their services. Industry truly was low here lately.

 

[Grimlock]

Cyrillia.

Dex knew of the place vaguely from the talk of the pit droid factory though he couldn't recall if the place still manufactured the annoying little tin cans. Watching the industrial area flow underneath the shuttle, the Mandalorian found himself wishing he could be back on Alzoc III with the rest of his clan. Though it was an ice cube, it was relatively untouched by the sprawling advances of industry. Waiting for the shuttle to finally touch down, he saw his Muun companion halfway down the ramp. Standing from where he sat by the viewport, he placed his buy'ce upon his head as it gave a hiss, indicating it had sealed to the rest of his beskar'gam. Walking down the ramp while he hefted a bag he carried onto his shoulder, Dex knew he would have to recalibrate the optics on his BigRipper inside the bag. Stopping next to San, he spied the hangar doors as well, before lightly nudging the Munn with an armored elbow and nodding in the direction of the doors.

 

[Cainhurst Crow]

"Mister Lorn. A pleasure." San said as he returned the handshake, while tucking his left arm behind his back out of habit. His grey eyes looked into the humans as he gave a small smile, one he used often when meeting others. He didn't know much about the human, other then he was an information broker, and had been made a squad leader after his work on taking in another muun who'd defaulted on his payments. He was reliable, and that was enough for him, for now. "60 would be a good asking bid. We can make adjustments when we see what we're working with. But we will not be leaving here with only 10..." He broke the shake as he felt something tap his elbow. He turned to look at the person who'd done that, seeing a mandalorian in red armor motion to the hanger. He glared at the mando but said nothing, turning as he looked to the hanger, his expression changing to one of calm expression on his face as he studied the large entrance way designed for ships to pass through.

His mind worked with possibilities, if things went poorly, they had a slim to none chance of making it out of here. Assuming their own forces were adequately hidden close by, it was also likely they would be dead by the time they arrived. 'A perfect place for a ambush, more then a discrete meeting. They deserve credit for picking an advantageous spot...' he thought before he looked to lorn and their extra security personnel, "Well, time to get this over with. shall we?." he said with a simple smile on his face as he looked to the mandalorian, motioning with his hand for him to take the lead. He looked to lorn, moving to walk at a simple casual pace as he gave a nod to the man, looking forward to seeing what he could do in these negotiations.

 

[Ten10dix]

"I hope to leave with 40, but expect it will be something nearer to 30. You never can tell with these resistance groups, some are well funded. Others are just a bunch of people with a grudge and a few pointy sticks..."

They began to walk towards the entrance, and Karl took the opportunity to respond to San's statement.

"I doubt they'll stab us in the back. They have enough trouble as it is, without having to add a professional force of angry mercenaries to their list of enemies. No, if we don't get the price we want, we'll either walk free or they'll be dead men walking. Well, deader men, anyway."

He was fairly confident of this, otherwise he wouldn't even be here. He had negotiated a few times before, and from what he gathered the party with the most to gain were reluctant to betray the other party. It was a good old fashion case of "They need us more than we need them". He noticed the Mandalorian walking beside Gunder. He presumed he was the leader of the small security detail they had been assigned. Two other mercs were walking with them, and an additional five were somewhere else, waiting to zoom in. A waste of good credits, Karl thought, but it was still reassuring to know that if anything did indeed happen, he'd have a nice fighting force to save the day.

The group approached the entrance as it opened up. The rebels were inside, and Karl smiled, making a show of looking around.

"I like what you've done with the place! Very... Metallic. Grey. Could do with a bit of colour, to be honest. Still, a nice place to hold a meeting if you're in to factories and that sort of thing."

He reached the Resistance leader, and extended his hand.

"Trevor Lorn, pleased to meet you."

 

[Tank]

A Mandalorian, A Muun, and a human. Tyranius was well pleased with the party. The Mandalorian showed that this group had power on their side. The Muun showed that they had economics on their side, and the human, no doubt the ‘charmer’, showed that they had enough sense to not let a Mandalorian and Muun on a mission by themselves. It proved to Tyranius that they were definitely the group he wanted at the helm of his mini-war against the environmentalists.

Tyranius reached out and took Trevor Lorn’s hand.

“Well, the color, is where your little start-up company comes into play. The environmentalists on this planet have been cutting into the industrial sector bit by bit until we, entrepreneurs, end up with nothing but cold grey abandoned hangers and plants.” Tyranius said as he led the group to a small round table he’d set up in the middle of hanger. There was a small holoprojector in the middle of the table and a small pamphlet around each of the seats. Tyranius wasn’t certain how many members of the Mercenaries United to expect so he’d printed out only five copies. Tyranius took one of the chairs and motioned for the rest of the negotiation party to do the same.

“I guess now is time to get down to brass tax.” Tyranius said, getting slightly nervous about the upcoming pitch. “It really is a simple mission. There is a small environmentalist headquarters in one of the more rural areas. It’s where all the high profile environmentalists gather and work during the week, so naturally there’s a small amount of security, but nothing that should trouble a Union as well renowned as yours.”

The building and its surrounding area appeared on the holoprojector. The building was square and three stories tall. It was backed up against the wall of a mountain face. The mountain seemed to curl around the base creating a “C” that protected the base. There was only one entry way into compound and it was protected by a twenty foot tall wall. Each floor of the base had outward facing balconies with occasional doors that led back into the base. There were four sentry towers posted forward of the base guarding the wall. Each was mounted with a dual medium turbolaser.

“As you can guess we would like utter destruction. Frightening the environmentalists in this area will do nothing more that fortify their cause. We need them all killed. We estimate there’s no more than fifty security personnel guarding the base and anywhere from five hundred to a thousand scientists inside the base.” Tyranius finished his opening statements and turned to each of the MU members in turn. “Any thoughts?”

 

[Cainhurst Crow]

San gunder smiled politely as he let lorn greet their possible contractor and make pleasantries with him. He was here to officiate the deal and lay out the terms into a contract, and of course aid in negotiating where need be. He kept quiet as they approached the holoprojector and were laid out the mission perimeters, taking a seat next to lorn, hands resting in his lap. It was all simple enough, assuming the information being supplied to them was both real and reliable. He looked to the leader of this resistance movement, smiling politely as he gave a nod.

"Forgive the questioning, but I must ask for clarity reason. What would constitute, as you said, utter destruction?" San asked as he sat straight, looking to tyranius with his grey eyes, "I only wish to know so we can better coordinate possible future courses of action and the labor they would take. Are you looking for no survivors, or the destruction of the buildings afterwards? Or is there a certain threshold you wish to meet in order to break these obstructions to progress? After all, we would not want to do this task, only for it to be less then satisfactory." his voice was even and calm as he asked, his fingers intertwining with each other, 5 on the right, 3 on the left, and rested them on the edge of the holoprojector as to not disrupt the image.