Open Thorne Campaign Trail: A Helping Hand

Emryc Thorne

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As a major trading hub, Bothawui was a highly vibrant and dynamic planet. People from all corners of the galaxy passed through here, resources from multiple planets flooding in to boost a rich economy.

So it was before AMS became a thing.

Bothawui’s strongest boast to the galaxy became its achilles heel. At some point a sick individual passed through and the infection spiraled out of control. Other planets heard at once what happened and stopped supplying trade, leaving Bothawui effectively stranded. Being closer to Hutt space meant they had no allies to lean on. The economy began to suffer and medical supplies were scarce.

The disease didn’t turn Bothans as quickly, which meant there was more time for amputations and removal of the bite source. However, even that needed a constant supply of bacta and medical bays. The patients needed time to recover and be held in observation.

Following his lucrative deal with Blackwell and securing their footing on Thyferra, Emryc set his sights on Bothawui. Allowing Blackwell to have a monopoly on bacta had made them rather friendly and willing business partners. As a result, he was now on Bothawui with cargo loads of bacta and other supplies to assist the crisis. He was even accompanied by a batch of Blackwell droids to serve as defense against the infected, all armed with blaster rifles. Organic defenses only carried with them the hazard of creating even more of the zombies.

Bothans had a tremendous amount of pride and Emryc expected friction, but he would play his cards and see how they responded. He had several conversations with a few Bothan leaders before arriving here, and he fully expected them to show up and look for reasons to be skeptical.

Emryc wasn’t near the central urban areas but instead out towards the rural parts of Bothawui. As usual, he was in a suit and walking around helping set up a quarantine center. Some of the bacta he brought over was already sent over to the major centers, but the people that needed it most urgently were out here. Staying true to his persona, he had no weapons on him. He could only hope there wouldn't be a major zombie incident during this..

Curious onlookers came out to join him, several having seen him on Holo. He expected some grumpy diplomats to show up at any point.
 
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Vrashinal Karzinkaal

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Vrash was at his side, the old timer, clutching his staff tightly as he leaned on it. A large cloak was splayed over the armor that lay beneath so for all intents and purposes, he just looked like a feeble old Kaleesh. He hated droids, they always malfunctioned and could be hacked or manipulated, how he didn't know. Such skills were for the young. He trusted living, breathing, warriors to defend, but in this case, he understood the need for less organic bodies.

He fell into step beside the Mr. Thorne "How many do you think will show?" he asked, he was referring to Senators. Most politicians were just there for appearances. They lacked substance and all they did was use fancy words to sound educated when in reality they were as naïve to life as the children from worlds they claimed to represent.

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Emryc Thorne

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Vrash was one of the very few individuals in the galaxy that Emryc actually bothered to ask the name. Despite the attack being staged, the man had rushed into a burning ship to help Emryc out. It was an act the half-Sephi would never forget.

Emryc’s face was devoid of expression as usual when he walked alongside Vrash. His arm was still in a sling, but he was as energetic as ever. A few droids stalked around the premise, looking for any unusual activity. Medical droids were here to help with the bacta administration. Limiting organic personnel was the key to combating AMS.

He used his good arm to awkwardly carry a crate of bacta over to a table. He had to constantly remind himself to use the Force either not at all or in limited capacity not noticeable to the naked eye.

“One or two,” Emryc answered Vrash’s question, “And they may just stand and glare at us instead of offering anything useful,” He set the crate down, glancing over at the Kaleesh, “We will need their buy in if we want this planet to join the Alliance.”

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Vrash would nod. "That representative from Belsavis wanted to meet at some point. He seemed interested in joining." his eyes scanned the area. "Believe it or not, this is the second plague ridden planet I've given aid to." He would help Emryc with the crate as he could. He had zero desire to actually carry anything fully, not because he didn't care, but because he needed to be able to defend Mr. Thorne.

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Carrick

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Bothawui was a lovely planet in a lot of ways but Carrick wouldn't say that it's current climate was one of those ways. The infection wasn't quite as bad here as it had been on the lower levels of Nar Shaddaa for example but being favorably compared to Hell did not make it a picnic. Lines of D3 droids at the intersections to important streets was both comforting and not, considering they were very reminiscent of the battle droids of wars long since won.

Or lost depending on who you asked.

He had forgone his usual display of a fancy lightsaber at his waist as a decoy, replacing it instead with a vibrosword. Honestly, he didn't expect trouble but these days it was something of a hazard being seen to be associated with the Sith or Jedi Orders. Carrick was escorted to where the aid center was being set up, ignoring the droids that had escorted him as he stepped into the area.

Looking around, he could see mostly droids... and a Kaleesh hovering around the young man of the hour, Emryc Throne, like a doting old grandfather. If he hadn't been informed by his uncle on Naboo, he would have thought the Kaleesh a guardian of some sort. Instead, a friend of circumstance it appeared.

"Mr Thorne."
he called out as he approached, "I was told I could find you here if I wished to make myself useful."

Carrick met the other man's eyes for a moment.

"And I honestly couldn't wait back in the city before meeting you."



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Darth Stolas

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In the distance from where the quarantine center was being set up, two speeders wereon the approach down the road. The larger truck was expected and on schedule, a cargo hauler laden with various supplies in crates and barrels secured on the back, crewed by two men with a paired D3 droid guard in the back seats. It was just another approved vehicle meant to deliver its payload to the budding quarantine center courtesy of Mr. Thorne, perfectly ordinary and not worth noting.

The purple Seraph landspeeder escorting it in front, however, was definitely not on the original agenda Emryc had gone over, though if he checked again he might well notice an update had gone through. It was piloted by a droid painted in the same colour, and a pair of D3 droids sat on either side of the only organic passenger, difficult to make out at a distance behind the rest of the vehicle.

The two speeders were easily let in through line of droids guarding the perimeter and slowed into the loading area, the Seraph smoothly stopping just a bit beyond, just outside what was to become a proper quarantine shelter.

Out stepped both droids, followed by the man they were guarding. He was dressed in a stylish semi-casual suit that still maintained a sense of dignity and grace, a pair of gold-rimmed sunglasses perched upon his nose. He drew close and clasped closed the second to last button of his blazer and ran slender fingers through his hair to return it to it's usual shape after his trip.

Beneath the coat lay a leather shoulder holster, one side holding a DC-17 blaster while the other held a retractable quicksilver baton, well concealed on his person. He retrieved a datapad from the speeder and turned on his heels, leather ankle boots scuffing against the street as he made his way into the aid center.

Morgan stepped around the other new arrival, datapad up and in hand, glanced toward Vrash with a small nod, and turned to Emryc. Boot heels clacked sharpish as he slid smoothly into place and offered a dip of the head in a short bow.


"Morgan Ali reporting, sir. It looks like all shipments are moving on schedule," he intoned in a professional clip, standing back up straight and swiping through something on his datapad. "A thing or two at the spaceport needed sorting, but it all went smoothly. Not to worry."


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Renfry

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In recent days, she had become very familiar with the term "arsonist firefighter," and she was the one that got to play the arsonist. That wasn't to say that she'd seen to the plague's release on planet - she hadn't - but rather that she was here now to... inflame the issue.

A little under a mile from the relief center, Renfry was suited up in her covert outfit, helmet flipped down, and was preparing for the coming attack. She'd been given the patrol route of the droids, and now it was time to show off precisely what they could do against a horde of flesh-eating monsters.

She descended into the underground parking garage and heard the shrieks, moans, and screeches of the infected where they had been herded and then kept imprisoned. Her face scrunched up beneath the helmet as she watched them eating... something. Were they eating one of each other or another person? That was horrifying.

She shook her head and turned her attention to the garage's large door, reaching out with the Shadow and triggering the controls. With a mechanical whirring, it began to raise and drew the attention of the creatures within.

And illusion time, she muttered. Her hands glowed green and a realistic illusion of a trio of people began to run down the street on a collision course with the relief center.

And a horde of infected followed with one former Nightsister taking up the rear at a safe distance. @Sreeya @Rhogar @Nefieslab @Mr. Teatime
 

Emryc Thorne

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Emryc considered Vrash’s words and nodded, “I’ll meet with him after this. His planet is close to Sith space, so he could use our aid,” He grimaced slightly at his next comment. He had dealt with plague planets a few times, and it had mostly been on the opposite side of things. Emryc kept the thoughts to himself, walking around and moving more crates.

People milled about and a few got more comfortable and began to approach. One of them was a thin human that introduced himself. Emryc gestured with his hand for Vrash to allow it, knowing the Kaleesh was especially protective of anyone approaching him. He eyed the man for a moment before extending his hand to shake it.

“Well you’ve found me,” He said bluntly, “How can I help you?”

Emryc barely got the words out when a speeder colored in his campaign colors entered the scene. Silver eyes followed it for a moment, watching as the droids stepped out followed by…. It was a testament to Emryc’s strict discipline and resolve that his face remained largely impassive. He met the gaze of the firrerreo, fighting not to wince at the title of ‘sir’ coming from him. Only the other man would notice the slightest change in his eyes, entirely too subtle to pick up by anyone else. It was enough to politely say ‘what the kriff?’.

“Good,” He said curtly, “We’ll also want to secure the perimeters. There have been reports of attacks nearby,” He focused his attention back to the man that had introduced himself.

“I apologize, please go on.”

By then more speeders had arrived, both of them luxury vehicles. Bothan diplomats stepped out, already looking displeased at the scene. And their arrival couldn’t be more timely as commotion could be heard in the distance.

“Infected!” Someone shouted.

Emryc had to remember to look panicked, but not immobilized. He turned to Vrash, eyes wider than before, “Deploy the droids! There’s no need to send organics. Protect the Bothan dignitaries.”

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Vrashinal Karzinkaal

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Vrash was very untrusting of new people, especially those that were armed. As Carrick stepped close to Emryc, his grip around his staff would tighten, his posture standing a little straighter. The reptillian eyes would focus on the man before the second man arrived. Security. He could faintly remember his face from the personnel files, but he would offer Morgan a nod.

Then the Bothans came and if you could believe the impeccable timing, so was a pack of infected. "Droids, time to earn your keep." The Pirate said coldly, His free hand would begin to fidget with his cloak. "Mr. Thorne, stay close and no harm will come to pass."

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Renfry watched the horde moving down the street, failing to pay attention to her as they approached the safe zone. She could hear shouts beginning to rise as droids came out to meet the oncoming hostiles.

Renfry was sure to stay out of the street and headed into one of the nearby buildings on the third story to peer out the window. The windows were reflective, but even so she took cover to avoid being seen as she watched the carnage unfold in case she needed to "redirect" any of the infected. After all, a full overrun wasn't her goal at all.

Blasterfire began raking across the creatures, sending many down to the ground while others clashed against the first outer wave of droids. To their credit, the droids were not organic, and infected teeth bit down on metal repeatedly to no avail. Still, others were knocked down as limbs were ripped apart by a mass horde.

The first few of the creatures made it past the outer rim of defenses and panic began to spread through the refugees. It would be up to the droids inside or the individuals in the facility to deal with the few infected that had made it through the initial defenses. @Sreeya @Rhogar @Nefieslab @Mr. Teatime
 

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Carrick noted that Emryc felt the need to gesture for the old Kaleesh to step aside to let him approach… perhaps his thoughts about an doting old grandfather or warrior-nanny was not out of place. Interesting and amusing at the same time. He didn’t bat an eye at the Kaleesh flexing his hand on his staff as though to ward him off, instead focusing on Emryc instead.

Though he was quickly cut off by the arrival of a speeder in some rather interesting colours and a man with impeccable taste in sunglasses. He nodded to the newcomer in acknowledgement of, if nothing else, the lovely selection in eyewear.

“Mr Thorne I’m interested in joining your campaign.”
He admitted with a smile that was firmly political, “I have resources on Naboo and Tinnel IV to put at your disposal should you feel inclined to accept.”

He stood to be the next senator of Tinnel IV at some point relatively soon but he wasn’t about to come on too strongly. Technically he had funding and backing from Blackwell as well but, well, one look around told that that would be redundant. Of course when it turned out there were Infected approaching? Well it wasn’t UN-expected but Carrick would be lying if he said he had been hoping that the Bothans had it all under control.

It was his own training as a former Jedi Knight that kept his natural response as nothing but an accelerated heart rate. Carrick eyed Thorne for a moment before moving.

“Are there any transports available?”
he called out to the tent at large, “Should we need to evacuate those awaiting treatment, we shall need vehicles. Sir…”

He stopped at the owner of the colourful speeder.

“How many dignitaries or injured do you believe your speeder could take if it become necessary?”


The droid were impressive but they would be fools to assume that they would be enough; it was always most prudent to prepare for the worst. Especially when the worst seemed to be happening right in front of their eyes - Carrick draw his vibroblade, activating the weapon as he moved to stand closer to the front of the tent. A lone infected managed to stumble closer, ignoring the fact that a nearby droid had already shot off one of it's arms. Cutting it's outstretched hand off with a slash, Carrick thrust his blade into the Infected's head before pulling it out to one side, tearing through it's neck as well before kicking it's remains backward.

Felt like a familiar motion that but he tried to ignore it.


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Darth Stolas

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Golden eyes glinting behind their dark, mirrored glass coverings caught the micro-expression that flashed across the face they'd become quite familiar with. Morgan to his credit was wearing his military mask, here to work, but still offered a slight nod of the head and a raised eyebrow as if to say, 'I told you so'.

"Right away, sir," he replied in that same clip and stepped back, turning to look out at the lines of droids. They were well formed into neat lines, although a break formed in them as the Bothan dignitaries arrived in their expensive speeders. Morgan listened to the other new arrival, some vibrosword-wearing man in a stylish half-cape, and decided to keep a proverbial eye on him.

Black boots took him toward the arriving dignitaries, intending to greet them, but his gaze was drawn off toward a particular line of droids as someone shouted about incoming infected. He turned to look at Emryc, noting with some internal amusement the look on his face, and then back to the droids he'd come with. He barked out a short command and the four D3 droids jogged toward the dignitaries, forming a line around them. Another command and the line of droids formed back up into a cohesive line, rifles on shoulders at the ready for precision fire and close combat.

Those Blackwell blasters were designed to also be used as a blunt instrument in close combat, and when the infected closed on the droids it really showed. The D3 droids were not shy about whipping around the buttstock with mechanical strength to crack open the skulls of the slavering dead. Morgan was asked a question by the sword-carrying man who had still not introduced himself, eyes narrowed in a professional and disciplined focus.


"Enough," Morgan replied unhelpfully. The other man wandered off to add to the back of the defensive line and the Firrerreo politely guided the dignitaries and their security further from the perimeter. The droids did good work and didn't hesitate or fall easily like organic guards, well outnumbered but not faltering for an instant, holding the line even when zombies tried to pule on and through them. When a weapon strike was unavailable they defaulted to a durasteel fist or forward kick, blaster fire taking out limbs or vaporizing heads. Even so, however, while they were certainly more determined and less squishy than organic security an odd zombie or two could still force their way through.

A single walking corpse missing a good chunk of it's torso half-ran, half-tripped over a droid currently grappling with two and a half other zombies, safety limiters not considering the zombies to be organic and therefore not holding back. As durasteel fingers crushed a skull behind it, the ventilated zombie stumbled toward Morgan and the dignitaries behind him, who promptly panicked.


"Not to worry, Denebs are built for this," he intoned, cool as a cucumber in a truly excellent mimicry of Emryc's usual frosty demeanor. He unbuttoned his blazer and drew his baton with the other hand, the shining silver shaft extending and whipping around to crack across the skull of the incoming zombie. It fell limp to the ground before it even reached the Bothan speeders, already chewed through by blaster fire beforehand. Morgan let out a loud, up and down whistling tone that was answered by a BA-10 astromech sitting in his speeder's passenger seat, and it sent out a signal to the D3 droids.

All at once the droids closed rank and took steps back, forming a solid wall of durasteel and blaster-fire that prevented more undead past. It was a setting meant to deal with riots, and the droids sank lower to the ground with one leg back to ground themselves in place. They were unrelenting and unyielding, firing their weapons with cold efficiency and cracking arms, fists, and stocks across any undead within reach to prevent another breach of the line.

A droid with an arm ripped ripped off rose from the ground in total defiance of the damage, planted itself, drew its remaining arm back, and sent it forward through the head of a charging undead that fell to the ground at its feet. Even without a proper weapon, the droids weren't pushovers in the least.

Morgan settled himself between the tent, now containing the dignitaries as well as Emryc and Vrash, and the wall of droids. His extended quicksilver bo-staff was placed one end on the ground while he settled into a casual attention to keep an eye on the line. In their new formation, a droid and its adjacent units would have to be torn to pieces before even a single infected made its way through.

Organized, disciplined, tireless, and not a hair out of place.


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Emryc Thorne

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Emryc watched as everything erupted around him. The zombies began to rush into the scene and the half Sephi watched curiously as the man hoping to join his campaign jumped to action, drawing out a weapon. Emryc walked towards the civilians that began to panic. With at least Morgan on the scene, something he was still processing, he didn’t even cast a sideways glance in the direction of the zombies.

“Stay behind the droids!” He called out to the civilians, motioning for them to step back and then pointing them towards where the quarantine was being set up. The droids got to work in the front lines. He had instructed Renfry to send a few waves, and they would all come running following the illusions.

Emryc made his way past Morgan, offering nothing more than a quick glance laced with amusement. Emryc returned to the group of dignitaries, switching back to his usually calm demeanor that served to keep the other diplomats the same way. If their fellow politician wasn’t panicking, maybe they shouldn’t either. He could hear the noise and screaming outside. Emryc glanced down at his chrono briefly before reaching for a cigarra and placing it between his lips after struggling with the lighter for a moment. He lit it before turning to the others and offering one. The Bothans stared back wide-eyed.

“We’ve dealt with this before, that’s why the droids are here,” Emryc said calmly, facing forward. After a beat, one of the diplomats reached a shaky hand over and took a cigarra.

He blew out a cloud of smoke as he gazed out from the tent. He balanced the cigarra between the corner of his lips as he reached for his comlink, “Let’s get a cleanup crew assembled,” Emryc followed up by sending a message to Renfry to halt the waves.

He turned to look at the diplomats, “As you are witnessing right now, the best means of combating the infected and minimizing spread is to apply inorganic defenses. I assure you that we can help you combat this problem.”

Emryc could hear the attack beginning to die down. Seeing Bothans tremble in fright was not something he thought he would ever see. Best of all, the guards that joined them were cowering just as much next to them in the tent. And even more than that - the civilians were witnessing this.

“It’s a good thing you and your droids are here. This could have been a disaster!” One of the diplomats said dramatically.

“Indeed,” Emryc said simply, blowing out another cloud of smoke.

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Renfry continued to let the creatures pour against the droids, giving gentle tugs of feet to cause them to stumble at an opportune moment if it looked like too many might attack a single droid.

Quickly, bodies began to line the street as the creatures fell to the gunfire of the droids. They were holding their own quite well even without Renfry's intervention on their behalf.

She heard the message from Emryc several minutes later to cease the waves. She reached out with the Shadow, pulling another illusion into place, forcing some from the path of the street, and giving them a dozen other things to chase one at a time. The crowd began to disperse and thin, and the droids did the rest. The herd came to a natural conclusion all on its own with gunfire mopping up the remaining psychos and Renfry took a seat.

Though she didn't expect her skills would be further needed here, she opted to remain nearby just in case. Besides, watching the droids begin to mill about on patrol was interesting enough to pass at least a few minutes. @Sreeya @Rhogar @Nefieslab @Mr. Teatime
 

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Vrash would drive his staff into the ground beside him as he pulled off the cloak and revealed his heavier armor, he then unslung his outlander rifle and would fire over the droids, each shot aimed for the head. He would stay outside of the tent as long as Emryc did, providing cover for the dignitaries as well as the droids. But something struck the old pirate as odd: The droids didn't count for many and they were in ranks. The beasties were far more numerous and instead of swarming and overrunning the droids, they seemed hellbent on going through them.

As the dignitaries and Thorne went into the tents, Vrash would sling the rifle and pull his staff free from the ground, before crossing the tent to reach Thorne's side. He would then lean in to whisper to Emryc. "Something isn't right.. This attack seems... off. We need to get you and the others out of here. We can do negotiations at a more secure compound, sir."

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Stay behind the droids?

Carrick wasn’t as certain as Emryc seemed to be that the droids would be able to stop the tide that was the Infected but it seemed that fate favored the young politician. The Infected were rapidly being thinned out by the droids until they were barely a concern, with all signs pointing to them rapidly becoming a non-issue shortly.

He wiped his sword clean against a ragged cloth once it was deactivated before sheathing the blade at his side. Eyeing the droid lines for a moment, Carrick couldn’t help a shiver that ran up his spine at the sight but he forced it down, turning and striding back into the tents.

“And what do you think of the little display?”


A Bothan dignitary asked him, having appeared at his elbow without a sound. Carrick had enough training both as a Jedi Knight and a Politician that he didn’t jump out of his skin like he was tempted to do. The bloody Bothan came out of nowhere, padding silently towards him.

No wonder they were spies during the Galactic Civil War.

“Dignitary, I believe this was a clear case of Bad Luck being trumped by excellent planning and even better machinery.”
He assured the apparently skeptical dignitary, “Mr Thorne has done a very good job of securing the area, would you not say?”

The dignitary looked as though he was unhappy with the assessment but it had been loud enough that the other Bothans had heard and it was clear he was very much in the minority, the one who always looked for something to complain about even when there was nothing to worry about.


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Morgan watched the waves of zombies break against the droids, sharp eyes firmly forward in case the lines needed adjustment, but the machines in their new close formation remained unbroken. As expected. A glance was only spared toward Emryc as he passed by, the glimmer of challenging golden eyes behind mirrored glasses, before they returned to the droids.

When the herds of infected began to be mopped up the Firrerreo let out another sharp whistle, repeated by his astromech, that sent the denebs not severely damaged back into security and patrol routines. The quicksilver baton was retracted and placed back beneath the dark blue jacket, which he buttoned back into place and straightened. He got to work getting the truck crew back to unloading the crates while D3s dragged the few infected corpses that had made his past the initial lines out of the guard perimeter.

The datapad was recovered and checked to make sure everything else was on schedule before he decided to turn to the tent, retrieving and lighting a cigarra of his own. One of the dignitaries looked at him with something between annoyance and appreciation, settled on the latter, and approached to thank him.


"Please, I'm just one of Mr. Thorne's aides. No need to thank me," he replied and offered the Bothan a charming smile. This had the unfortunate effect of drawing extra attention from a different dignitary who was apparently a little too fascinated by Morgan's fangs and wandered over to invite him to drinks. The Firrerreo bowed slightly with an apologetic expression.

"You honor me, but I'm afraid I can't anytime soon. I'm a little tied up, so to speak. Much work to be done."


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Emryc Thorne

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Emryc stared ahead as Vrash leaned in to mention the attacks had been ‘off’. What had the man noticed? Emryc hadn’t been looking outside and he wondered if Renfry had done something to make the attack look off. Externally, his face was as impassive as ever as he smoked from his cigarra.

“Of course it’s off,” He said casually, “It’s a goddamn AMS attack. What’s off is that for once there were no casualties or anyone bitten, am I right?” Emryc glanced over at the other diplomats and citizens, all nodding and muttering quiet agreements. A few of them were even brave enough to step back outside now that the dust had settled. Casualty rates had been very high in this region and this may have been the first attack without anyone dead or bitten.

He turned his attention to the man from earlier that had offered to become a part of his campaign. He didn’t miss the man praising him to a diplomat. Emryc blew out a cloud of smoke, calculating his options before he stepped towards him.

“I would be happy to have your help,” Emryc said as he met his gaze, “When can you start?”

He would wait for the answer before he heard the other diplomats chat excitedly about the droids and how they took down all the infected. Emryc overheard when a diplomat addressed Morgan about drinks and Morgan’s subsequent response. He suddenly inhaled wrong and had to cough, eyes narrowing a bit as he did so. Emryc recovered smoothly, ashing the cigarra and keeping his gaze trained ahead.

“My bodyguard here may have a point,” Emryc said as he glanced at Vrash and then back at the diplomats, “We have the situation under control and cleanup has to be done. Why don’t we go to a lounge and discuss our future endeavors over drinks to shake off the nerves?” The Bothan Councilmen around him didn’t protest the idea.

There were enough assistants, workers and volunteers to keep the setup going and clean up the mess. The droids were patrolling and actively watching the scene. Emryc, his bodyguard, the new fellow if he chose to join, and Morgan would make their way back to the city. One of the diplomats had suggested a ritzy lounge bar that had a sectioned off VIP area. Part one of Emryc’s game was done, and part two was just about to begin.

@Nefieslab @Rhogar @Mr. Teatime
 

Carrick

Character
Consortium
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ISC Secretary of Defense

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Nefieslab
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Carrick would be lying if he said he hadn't protected Thorne's image loudly enough for the man to have heard him on purpose. He wasn't clumsy enough to have done it by accident anyway. Still, he nodded to the Bothan who moved on and he got a chance to speak to the man of the hour as well.

When could he start?

He liked where that question was heading.

"Then you'll have all the help I can give."
he assured Emryc with a smile, "I have some business to attend to on Tinnel IV - wrapping up some loose ends and assuring my standing, that sort of thing - but it shouldn't take too long at all. A few days at most and I shall be available and even more useful than before."

Nodding to Emryc after their brief interaction, Carrick would follow along with the crowd to arrive at the VIP area of a lounge that had been set aside for them. He wasn't a fan of such areas as a rule but he was happy enough to follow along on this occasion. Plus it had been awhile since he smoked and he needed to have a few drinks before he joined in with the cigara-puffing and chin-wagging.

He was a social smoker and that tended to require a few drinks.

Approaching the bar, he smiled at the Kaleesh and gestured to the bar.

"I'm getting an Antakarian Fire Dancer - you want one?"



@Rhogar @Sreeya @Mr. Teatime
 

Vrashinal Karzinkaal

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Independent
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Citizen

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Rhogar
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Vrash would watch as all the V.I.P's gathered up and swept off to their fancy bar with the safe area to drink at. He would enter to make sure it was safe first, before exiting the building to escort Emryc into the secure location. Once they were well inside, the Kaleesh would relax, just a bit, and when approached by Carrick, he would nod. "Not sure what that is, boy, but I'll happily take one."

He made sure he was near Emryc in the event of a crisis, but he also understood such an overly armed guard could be off putting for diplomatic negotiations. So he would remain a reasonable distance away, eyes scanning the room in sentry mode.

@Sreeya @Nefieslab @Mr. Teatime
 
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