Wetwork

[Gaja]

Not so long ago. On a tired battlefield.
Theme​

The ground beneath his feet was dry, he could feel the dust he kicked up as he made one particular step, but the realization that even the rain gave up on Zonju V was not enough for him to look down. Rather he didn't allow himself to. He needed his strenght for the march that awaited him...

Through the war torn region he walked, ever watchful of the next pirate trying to kill him. He was done with this place... leaving the blood and the bodies behind him as the only companion that remained was the ever present, sand filled, wind.

A black op was the reason he was here, to spill blood and move the Cartel forward. Manipulating events to their favor Vero and the council sought to bring Zonju V under the Cartel banner, and the only man who could be sent in to the pitts of this hell was he...

Half a galaxy away from the place he called home. He once more said goodbye to his little girl, friends and brothers and donned the combat armor and rifle. Once more he would dance with the Reaper, and see if maybe this time the hooded man would take him... He'd stood at the gates of hell twice already, and twice he had been rejected.

But this time was different...

Spoiler: Outfit

"He was betrayed."​

After months of constant battle in this hell hole, he had accomplished the goal he'd been given. "The Shark" smelled blood and went in for the kill, but instead of victory he was betrayed. Someone tried to kill him, him and his entire squad. Whether it was luck, fate, the force or his own instincts that saved him he didn't know anymore. All he knew at this point was that he wanted to go home...

He was tired, beaten and injured. But even so the dark haired man was alive, his eyes may have been tired but they showed a willingness to live on. Mentall toughness that few people had, the ability to bear pain and fatigue and focus on the task in front of him. "To survive."

And so he conserved his energy, he didn't look down at the ground that was the grave for his comrades, he didn't stop because he feared that he wouldn't be able to continue if he rested. He simply marched, on and on... his resolve strong even though his body was not...

---

Thread notes: The location of this thread is Zonju V. This thread is mostly for Darkwasp and me, but if someone else, is active, and feels like they could contribute to the story feel free to VM me and we'll see if we can work something out.

 

[Darkwasp]

Zonju V – another flat barren wasteland filled with sand, disreputable people, and guns; lots of guns. It had been her luck lately. It seemed that informants and nefarious dealers only picked the most uninhabitable rocks that they could find to operate out of. It was like it was some sort of hidden prestige in living in the most undesirable, out-of-the-way place in the galaxy. The Bahati was sure that she hadn’t seen an actual living plant in the last month or more.

The exhausted smuggler stared off into the distance at a settlement that was still quite some distance away. Sweat glistened off her flawless caramel skin, more exposed to the elements, than covered by her favorite smugglers outfit. Stray strands of her long curly hair had found itself bounded to her face and neck due to the copious amount of salt enriched liquid that was being secreted from her body. Behind her, she tugged a repulsor-lift sled. She’d wished that the stupid contact had told her about the particulars of the mission before she had arrived in orbit around Zonju V.

”Don’t fly directly into the settlement. I don’t want the Waste Rangers to find out. Oh and bring a power sled. The package is heavy.” Bahati complained, mustering the whiniest, nasally voice that she could; to mimic her client. What the frak was a Waist Ranger anyway? It sounded like the fashion police, or some kind of fitness trainer’s work out program, or perhaps even some pedophile’s holonet sign-on name.

It was only a little bit further until she got to the settlement, but still too far in such a hellhole of a wasteland. And why would it be any less strange arriving from the desert with a Kriffing power-sled?! I swear if he pays me in full, I’m shootin’ him on the spot. she thought to herself, as she looked back at the sled that she was hauling. Her almond shaped eyes glance back toward the equipment a few more times, before her head craned around to see anyone could spot her. She quickly hopped onboard the sled with one foot, using the other to push off. With two strong pushes on her leg, the hovering sled travelled a good 20 feet. Bahati smiled at her new form of transportation; riding the heavy piece of equipment like it was a toy scooter.

 

[Gaja]

It had been a long walk. When they were ambushed Yuri wasn't exactly able to pick his gear and had to make due with what he had on him. With barely any water left he was thankful that he rarely went somewhere without the flask. The other thing was the rifle that was hung over his shoulder as he continued on and on, nothing but rocks and sand to keep him company for several days now...

Where was he going exactly? The answer to that was rather simple really, in the past couple of months they had passed through a small town west of their base, which Yuri hoped he could find by memory. The rocks formations near it served as his navigation and as he walked up a small hill Yuri saw something that made him exhale like never before... Smog.

Whether they were exhaust fumes from the port, or maybe there was a small factory in the town he didn't care. All that mattered to him at this point was that had managed to reach civilization again. Having run out of water, used his last remaining shot of bacta and no means of communication Yuri was essentialy on his own for this one. The rest of the march he barely remembered, because all he could think about was food and water... Sleep wasn't a terribly big problem right now, but there was no denying that he needed some proper rest.

But he told himself that there would be time for that later. And so he was now just one of the local guns for hire, or so he told himself. Walking straight towards one of the local cantinas the man entered the establishment and never before did a crappy joint like this seem so clean and inviting...

Going straight for a free table the tired human plopped down to take a seat, putting his rifle on the chair next to him while scouting the place for any possible trouble. While he did so his priorities were clear, rest a bit and figure out a way back to Hutt space. He wasn't sure if the people who ambushed him had back up out here so he was hesitant about renting out a condo...

 

[Darkwasp]

The exotic smuggler halted her makeshift scooter at the edge of town, removing a datapad from a small satchel that she carried. She tapped at the screen her brow furling as she did so. Yep. Just as she’d thought; some back-alley bar on some back alley planet. Why in heaven’s name couldn’t she ever get a client that met her in a nice restaurant… or hotel… or apartment? Why’d it always have to be some seedy joint in the middle of nowhere? She sighed, shoving the datapad back in its pouch and grabbing the lift to tug it behind her once more. As much fun as it was to ride the contraption as a scooter; it’d ruin her reputation if she was spotted riding it around town.

She stopped at a rickety old place and glanced up at the name plate above the door. It was a sign that looked as though it had seen decades more than she had; clutching stubbornly to the structure by one last nail. The words were faded and hard to read, but this look like the place she was looking for. Why couldn’t she fly her ship directly to the place? What law man, worth his on salt, would be holed up in some crappy town like this? Heck it looked as if they couldn’t even afford to pay someone to keep the peace.

Bahati pushed the wooden door inward, holding it slightly because it felt as if it was about to fall from its hinges. Everyone in the bar looked up as she entered; each one studying her closely before going back to their drinks. She was quite used to people starring as she entered a room, but these people weren’t caring about her looks. They seemed to be checking to see if she was the law, if they knew her, and what she was armed with. Yep. A down right friendly place; if you were comparing it to a Sith Tomb.

Her almond eyes scanned the grubby saloon. No one appeared to be waiting for her. She sighed and moved toward the bar. It took her a few minutes to flag down the bartender, without making a scene in the extremely quiet cantina.

”I’m lookin’ for Neville Plinko…Pleckorpolisk…” she attempted, before giving up and showing the bartender the name on her datpad.

”He ain’t here yet, and he ain’t done nottin’”The bartender answered, quickly going back to cleaning his empty glasses.

”I know. I just…” she let her words fade, as she noticed the bartender had no interest in the conversation outside of what he had just said. Almost dejected, Bahati found herself an empty table; beating some dust off of the seat before she sat down. First the ass wouldn’t let her fly down her; making her bring her own equipment, now he was late.

She sat quietly in the shabby cantina, twiddling her thumbs, as she waited for Neville to arrive. She would have order herself a drink, but she felt she’d used up her only free sentence asking for her contact. Now she’d just have to wait for him to arrive, in hopes that he’d order both of them a drink.

 

[Gaja]

Hunger is the best spice.
- Old folk saying.​

Never did he enjoy meat like this, never had he ate so much, never did he drink so much, never did it go so easy, never did the pain go away so fast. It was odd, but upon finally reaching civilization again Yuri felt like he'd been reborn. Getting some, much needed, food and water in to him the big man was able to persuade the local cantina owner to let him sleep there for the night.

It had been the best sleep he had in ages, even though he didn't fully trust the man it didn't matter once he fell asleep and all that fatigue came rushing back and overwhelming him. He was out in less than a minute, almost making it seem like he had been given something to fall asleep. Sleeping over sixteen hours straight the man woke up to the sound of pots falling and some yelling, prompting him jump up and realize his current situation... He was stranded on this back water planet with no means to contact anyone from the Cartel, and with very limited supplies. Actually there was this funny dream he had, hehe, that he sold of his rifle to pay for the food and the bed...

"Oh crap..."

Seeing that he only had his side-arm still with him made him realize that it wasn't a dream. Well there was the lack of credits issue as well... Things were quite peachy on Zonju V, weren't they... And so he woke up and took a much needed, cold water, shower and looked around. Talking to the cantina owner later on revealed that there were frighteningly few ways of this rock of a planet, but being a good host the man offered Yuri to stay in until he found a ride, under the condition that he helped out if Brocko, needed him.

Brocko was the cantina owner by the way, at least that's how Yuri remembered his name. The days came and went but no luck on getting of the planet. He did get to beat on a few of the locals though, and make a few friends on the way. The locals sure liked to drink, not that there was anything else to do around here but work in the mines and drink.

One particular morning though, maybe four or five days since he first found this place Yuri exited the back of the cantina, wearing his combat boots and pants and a black T-shirt while the rest of his gear was in the back next to his bed. Even though he kind of liked these guys he was still looking for a way of Zonju V and so when Brocko told him about Bahati, the only girl in the cantina by the way, naturally Yuri figured that he might as well see if he had any luck.

Approaching her he wasn't exactly sure who she was but he knew that Nevile Piscolero, or something like that, was talking about having a shipment that he was selling for a pretty penny. He bragged about it the night before, so when Yuri added up two and two he realized that maybe this was his way of this rock, and it seemed god liked him too because he sent a sex bomb in Bahati to be his getaway driver...

"Hi." He said in Basic, but with his Huttese accent showing through somewhat. "I hear you're looking for Nevile?" The big man with the big muscles, and tattoos said... Time to see if this was his ride of this planet or a drink splashed in his face.

 

[Darkwasp]

The exotic smuggler sat quietly, as to not disturb the quiet sanctity of the establishment. Her gloved finger drew strange symbols in the dust of the dilapidated table. Where was Neville? He sounded as though he had urgent business, and that this particular item needed to be moved quickly. Perhaps he was having trouble transporting the shipment to the bar. Or perhaps the Wasteland Rangers had already caught up with him. Whatever he was moving, he was desperate not to let them find out.

A rather large man, with his hair shaved close approached the caramel skinned beauty. She leaned back in her chair, allowing her right hand to fall close to her MK-IX Plasma Pistol. The man didn’t look like he was up to no good, but he definitely wasn’t Neville. Not much good ever came of a stranger approaching her in a bar; especially after she had just asked for someone who was obviously up to nefarious deeds.

The man greeted her with the hint of a Huttese accent flashing through speech. Her almond shape eyes squinted at the man, as he made an attempt to confirm that she was there for Neville. Was he Neville’s muscle? Are perhaps he was one of the Wasteland Rangers who had intercepted the package and was trying to get more information from her.

”[For Hutts, I charge double]” she responded in fluent Huttese, wiping the strange symbols from the dust. ”[But you don’t look like a Neville to me].” she continued, looking up at the man, with the index finger of her left hand curled under her chin.

 

[Gaja]

A pleasant smile found its way across his face once the attractive women revealed that she could speak Huttese. Not because Yuri wasn't fluent in Basic, but because the odds that she had the ability and the guts to fly in to Hutt space increased. No one really looked at them because of it, but no one here was fluent in Huttese. They spoke Basic around here for the most part, since a few of the miners used to live in the former Galactic Alliance. Yuri on the other hand answered her in the tongue of the Hutts and gestured towards the chair that was on the other side of the table.

"[May I? It's nice to speak to someone in Huttese again. You must be the pilot Nevile spoke about. I'm Yuri, the package.]" Whether or not it would come as a surprise to her that someone wanted to be smuggled Yuri was about to find out. He certainly wouldn't mind being smuggled by her... And he didn't think that simply because they were on Zonju V either, she looked damn fine that Bahati.

Yuri didn't share much after that, rather he waited on Bahati's reaction while he went on to sit, if Bahati previously stated that it was alright with her to do so. After all if she was in a hurry to leave there was little point in sitting down. If it were up to him they'd leave right away, but maybe the exotic beauty wanted to talk payment... This was far from over...