Just another job

[Dire Wolf]

Tali heaved a heavy sigh as she leaned back in her chair and propped her feet up on the table within the the "Raging Womprat." It was a sleezy little cantina placed within the sector that was used to house refugees of the Mandalorian war five decades prior. Now it was just another slum in a planet full of slums, and the cantina reflected that. It was a perfect place to gather the people who would help her find the deposit of Ultrachrome that was rumored to be on a planet owned by a xenophobic, bass ackwards civilization.

The Republic had attempted to find this deposit long before. A combination of the advanced technology of the indigenous peoples and the interference given off by the region where the ultrachrome was (presumably) located made it nigh impossible to detect from orbit. Any attempt to break the atmosphere ended in the inevitable vaporization of the ship that did so. So that was why the Jedi Investigator Tahlia had been pulled off of the Sith front and assigned to a wild goose chase.

One month prior the Republic issued out a job offering via an "independently" owned shipyard to assist in deciphering the location of an Ultrachrome deposit on the planet of Aphithir. The reward was... most substantial. Colonel Naaden had been assigned to assist the Jedi Knight, and the operation had room for two more. Not long ago she was told that two people had accepted the job, and were told to meet her at the very cantina she sat within. Her own cover was a Grey Jedi who acted as something of a guardian and agent for the independent shipyard that hired them. Her own name was scrubbed from any Republic and Order documents long ago due to her status as an Investigator, and as such the woman went by her birth given name for this assignment.

A shot blaster was propped up against the woman's leg and seemed to punctuate her already roguish appearance. Tali didn't know where Corunna had hidden herself, but should anyone give her trouble they would be rewarded with more spread of blaster bolts in the chest. And so she tapped her fingers against the black metal of the weapon in anticipation.

This should be fun.

[Dutch]

{OoC: Alright, going with the Borderlands theme. Gonna go over the top >3}

Twenty minutes ago...

Colonel Corunna Naaden strode with confident steps down the dim, Nar Shadaa alley. Her form would occaisonally be bathed in bright, neon lights from various dives and other seedy clubs. Music thumped and people screamed and laughed from open doors and windows. Nar Shadaa was alive tonight. Which naturally meant that the more dangerous element would be out and alive tonight as well. Which meant that Corunna was no less on her guard than usual. Especially in the get up she wore for a disguise.

Her normally sleek, black hair had been bleached and dyed a wild, vibrant blue color. Corunna couldn't help but like it, but would never admit it. The woman's eyes peered into ever nook and dark corner she passed, their normal dark colors replaced by bright white contacts, giving Corunna a truly exotic appearance with her bronzed skin. One could guess she might have Theelin within her, or Echani, or Alderaanian. Only one of those were correct, but outsiders wouldn't be able to tell. Corunna's normal BDU's were replaced with more mercenary gear. She still wore her favorite combat boots, that was non-negotiable, if Brass wanted her at her best, her frakkin' feet were gonna be comfortable. On her lower half she wore low-rise black and white fatigues. The tank-top and combat vest combo she wore on her upper body showed off her mythosaur skull tattoo near her navel, once more lending to the mercenary appearance. Not to mention showed off her well toned arms, and her cleavage. She still couldn't believe that she had to wear the get-up. But it was important that no one recognize her. Luckily her main partner on the mission was someone who excelled at hiding in plain sight.

As Corunna turned down the last side street that would lead to the rendezvous point, The Raging Womprat, her eyes would catch what awaited her. Standing and blocking Corunna's path was four people. Three of them looked rather normal, despite all wearing medium class armor and all brandishing weapons. The Colonel's mind went to her own arsenal. Slung behind her back was her trusty rifle, loaded and ready to do some damage. On her left hip sat her heavy blaster pistol, the holster already unlatched and ready to be drawn. And on her right hip, her beskad sat surprisingly light in its scabbard. And then there were the many grenades clipped to her belt. Many, many grenades.

The fourth person however, definitely stood out in comparison to the rest. He stood at what Corunna guessed was eight feet tall, which meant she only came up to his pectorals. That was a very, very large man. Her mind clicked through various tactics to handle the situation. No chance of ambush, four attackers, one marked as a severe hazard. Alley, close quarters. Plenty of room for her to move, not so much for them. They strode closer and began to laugh and brandish weapons. Corunna stood and watched as they moved to flank her before encircling her. Fools. The large male bellowed a laugh before he cracked his massive knuckles so loud they sounded like slugthrower shots. His deep bass rumbled a little tune...

"Sticks and stones... blood and bones..."

Corunna grinned at his huge visage. His features were quite unfamiliar for any race she knew off the top of her head. But his accent and build rang a bell in the back of her mind, she just didn't know which bell. He would be toughest to take out, which meant she needed to end the other three before they managed to wear her down for the big gun. They would be dead in mere heartbeats.

The first one jumped the gun, a female with a mohawk and a vibroknife. Corunna launched forward to meet the woman, since the attacker's reach would be greater than Corunna's, she lunged in close as she unslung her rifle to crack it directly into the woman's nose. It snapped audibly and blood splatted outwards from the butt of Corunna's rifle before the Colonel brought it in twice more to add insult to injury. She then brought her boot up to kick the attacking woman hard in the gut to send her sprawling back. Corunna spun low and shouldered her rifle to snap off two shots to one of the smaller man's throat's. He gurgled his last words and collapsed. The third man leaped high into the air with a vibroaxe, he swung it down too fast for Corunna to line a shot up, so she dropped her rifle and rolled away from the guillotine as it slammed into the duracrete ground. Sparks sprayed out from the axe as it collided, but the man was too slow to swing again. Corunna pistol whipped him repeatedly in the face until he submitted, and proceeded to pump his melon with plasma.

Her bright white eyes moved to meet the massive man's. He clapped his might hands with gusto. Apparently he approved of Corunna's prowess. A warrior, not just a merc. Another piece of the puzzle fell into place. She straightened her posture and drew her beskad before she holstered her pistol. He had her at most ranges, she could get in close and cut him bad. Take hm down a peg, and a foot, or two. She began to step towards him when she heard a scuffle behind her, and spun on her heel to throw her beskad end over end to bury into the mohawk's chest. She had just drawn a pistol to shoot Corunna, but wasn't fast enough. Unfortunately the large man took this opportunity to attack. He jumped forward to punch Corunna, but instead felt small hands on his wrist and then the world spun.

Corunna executed a perfect counter, and used the man's own leverage to send him reeling into a wall. She drew her pistol and proceeded to pelt his legs full of plasma, rendering them useless. He cursed in a foreign tongue and roiled on the ground. Corunna stomped over to him and kicked him in the side of the head. The large man growled and glared up at her.

"B*tch, you can't stop me, I'm Alrik the Scorn. I will feast on your skin!"

He spat at her. Corunna leaned down to slap Alrik across the face. Hard. Then she did it again. And when his mouth opened to curse her out, she promptly shoved a grenade into his mouth and pulled the pin. Corunna then used her pistol to render his hands useless. She strode away and yanked her beskad out of the woman's chest, and didn't look back nor stop wiping her blade off with a rag as the grenade behind her went off...

Staring Corunna as THE COMMANDO...

***

Corunna made eye contact with no one as she entered the cantina. The music assaulted her senses, as did the smell of salty aliens and stale drugs. Such lovely places the 414 sent their people sometimes. Corunna looked around the place for her contact. A young Jedi of all things. If she hadn't already seen a holo of the woman, she'd had never known who the red-head was when she saw her. Corunna waved two fingers at Tali and began to walk her way. Naturally, no one would let it be that easy. Just as Corunna almost reached Tali's table, a sleezy looking Devaronian slipped in front of her with his hands held up.

"My my... I dig the little 'soldier girl' outfit your rockin'. Stripper's belong on the top level lady, better get up there before they call for you..."

A sigh would leave Corunna's lips before she brought her left knee up sharply to knee the lecherous man in the groin. His face then tasted her left cross as she downed the horned man. She sighed again and turned her fake-white eyes to Tali before raising both her eyebrows. Corunna slid into the seat next to Tali and spoke.

"Did you have as much trouble as I did getting here? Frakkin' local flavor..."

[Dr. Jake]

Scarlet eyelids fluttered open to reveal drowsy gray orbs. They surveyed their surroundings, a bedroom aboard a starship. Before long, it all came flooding back to him. He was aboard the freighter Andaria's Fury, in the captain's quarters. The scarlet-skinned pilot had been hired as a pilot on Ord Mantel by a Human Smuggler, Andaria Ryn. That explained the curtain of auburn hair spread across his chest. A few hours into hyperspace, the two had a few drinks in the cockpit before retiring to the lady's quarters.

He could feel her warm, slender body wrapped around his own. Andaria was one sexy piece of ass, but judging from the relative quite of the ship, they had dropped out of hyperspace and were nearing Nar Shadaa.

The movement of his head and writhing of his lekku must have awakened his employer, as she lifted her fair face from his chest. His right lekku, which had been draped around her neck, was tickled by her dark hair as she moved.

Before saying anything, the Corellian woman smiled and kissed him, reminding the Twi'lek what she could do with her tongue. Their moment was interrupted by a wrap at the door. The Rodian first mate spoke in Huttese, letting the captain know that they were beginning the landing sequence and she was needed in the cockpit.

"All right, I'll be up there in a few!"

Andaria said groggily, almost crankily. Wrapping herself in the sheets (which exposed Jaren's nude figure), she got up and opened her bedside table drawer. The attractive captain withdrew a wad of credits and tossed it to her naked lover, who barely managed to catch it.

"For your...services. It's hard to find a decent pilot these days, so you'll find a little bonus included. Now, I really need to go, and I probably won't see you after we land, so I suppose this is goodbye."

Jaren just nodded, silently expressing his thanks. He wasn't emotionally distraught over parting with this woman, he was actually quite pleased. His sexual needs had been fulfilled, and his wallet was full. In addition to that, he had already secured a high-paying job offer on the Smuggler's Moon.
***

Several hours later, Jaren was strolling about in the peace and security of Nar Shadaa's streets, fully clothed and armed. His hand rested centimeters from his pistol, ready to draw and shoot in a fraction of a second if necessary. It was really an irregularity not to be mugged, robbed, or otherwise bamboozled here.

The pilot was not strolling though. He had a specific place to be. About a week prior, he had accepted a job from a mysterious organization. They needed a pilot to fly their ship to some remote world he had never heard of to retrieve a rare mineral. That usually wasn't his cup of tea, but when he head what they were paying, he signed on quickly.

Despite the vague nature of his employers, they had provided detailed information about the location, time, and nature of the rendezvous. He was to meet a young woman by the name of Tali at the Raging Womprat. He was told that there would be two others with them on the mission, which he didn't mind at all. Jaren knew his way around a blaster, but he was no soldier.

After taking a wrong turn and warding off at least three prostitutes, Jaren finally found his way to the designated cantina. It was child's play to enter and spot his contact. The woman stood out like a sore thumb in the wretched hive of scum and villainy. The only thing was, there was another woman with her.

Approaching the women, Jaren spoke before seating himself at the table.

"Howdy ladies, I'm looking for a Ms. Tahlia."

When the red haired woman answered, he properly introduced himself.

"Nice to meet you ma'am, I'm Jare'Nabala, but please call me Jaren."

[Apillis]

Within the bowels of the sleaze pit known as the Raging Womprat with the planetary den of thieves labelled as Nar Shaddaa. The deep cover Imperial Intelligence agent, Silens Six, awaited her contact to send her, her mission briefing via secure channel. All she was informed before hand by HQ was to dress as a soldier of fortune and naturally play the role as one. Outside of that she knew nothing, until it at last came via her earpiece as a recording that lasted no more than thirty or so seconds, too short to trace the signal and the channel itself too secure to slice into within the limited time it message was sent in.

"Silens Six, there are two targets you need to locate. A Colonel Corunna Naaden and a Jedi that may be accompanying her. We do not know who, Imperial Intelligence has not yet been able to slice into the Jedi data base. But as you well know, we can navigate certain channels of the Republic Military. Your mission is not to kill. You are to join. The Republic is after a highly valuable Ultrachrome payload. We want it. But the Republic is running this as a covert operation, Colonel Naaden and her Jedi are posing as mercenaries. We have already secured your identity as a mercenary hired for the job by the name of Sel. Don't worry, the real Sel has recently been dealt with by us, your cover is secure. Sel is a mercenary typically working in the Tatooine region, who had been seeking to expand her notoriety in the Outer Rim for higher paying work. Improvise, do what you need to, to get close to the two targets and secure the Ultrachrome for the Empire. HQ, out.", A picture of the colonel popped up within the HUD of her cybernetic eye popped up for a second or two, just long enough for Six to get a good look at her, before communications with HQ utterly ceased and severed.

Silens Six always did have a certain sense of style to her despite her highly honed ability to essentially be the ultimate poser, molding and reshaping her personality and beliefs to gain the favor of whomever she needs to accomplish her agenda--or rather the Sith Empire's. Her own unique sense of style is perhaps one of the only avenues she has that exclaims her individuality. That said, that sense of style of hers can certainly be... eye-catching when she wants it to be.

Her natural hair color is a dark hue, but she often dyes it so under certain lighting it takes on glossy violet and azure highlights. That hair of hers hanging well below her shoulders, down her back, but now tied back into a practical ponytail, while also wearing a black military issue cap. Though where her sense of style really showed is her the black halter top she wear that covers no aspect of her lean mid-driff area showing off her washboard abs. The long cream hued BDU military field vest that hangs down to her thighs, also did nothing to hide her mid-driff as she wore it wide open, and the shoulder holster as it wrapped around her back and further clipped under her humble sized bosom somewhat kept the vest forced open as the shoulder holster was fastened snugly onto her upper-body. Albeit, the pants she wore we tattered military issue black BDUs, pant legs stuffed into her combat boots, but how she wore the pants she may as well have been wearing hip-huggers given how low they were, held up only by a heavy and wide black leather belt fastened snug around her shapely hips; albeit it was some was left to question why she wore the tattered military pants furthermore by the massive tear at her right thigh nearly reaching up to thigh showing quite a bit of her milky white thigh. And topping off the outfit are simple pair of fingerless black leather gloves.

Though with the no sleeves to her outfit, the numerous and immense amount of cybernetic implants that exist in her left around from the shoulder to her hand was now plain to see. Their purpose nothing more than to enable her arm to operate at the level that would be expected of an elite field operate, such as herself. Her cybernetic and prosthetic eyes are always visible, but those of her left arm seldom are, nor are the cybernetic implants at her neck or along her spine to, there to accomplish the same as those that are in left arm. She had encountered a Jedi a before, and unlike many a field agent in Imperial Intelligence, lived to tell the tale as a victor, but the price as her cybernetics are evidence of, was quite heavy.

But, in this moment, she was not Silens Six... she was Sel. As is the training of such agents like Silens Six, the ability to even in their mind abandon their identity so thoroughly, they can convince themselves to be who they claiming to be. Just as when she became the elite agent, Silens Six, the woman Charlotte Wright was cast away into oblivion, now the identity--at least for a time--the Imperial Intelligence operative known only as code name Silens Six, does not exist in her mind--there is only the mercenary Sel. Who is an entirely different and new identity--a new person.

Eyes scanning across the lowlifes of the bar, until a bar brawl broke out that quickly caught Sel's attention. And there... there her target was, those soft light blue lip-glossed lips of her thinned into a charming little smile. The lovely you woman did not even need to watch the scuffle to know the results. She merely snapped a finger at the barkeep, and pointed at her currently sweating cocktail "An Old Fashioned" she has hardly touched, signaling to him to give her another. When the barkeep finally got around to it and gave her the drink, the scuffle had been over. Sel left a couple credit chips paying for the beverage... without a tip, before snatching up the drink and heading in Corunna's direction.

Carrying either drink in her hand, she was still a fair distance from Corunna within the establishment. Her brow furrowed a little at the sight of a Devaronian chump getting kneed in the yarbles. Though, when the colonel sat with another young woman who looked to be about Sel's age, they seemed familiar with one another. Sel assumed that was the Jedi she is with, but before Sel reached them--a man approached and introduced himself. Another mercenary there for the job? By his inquiry, it seemed so.

With a confident ease, Sel approached them and uttered the moment she stood among them, "It seems he and I are here for the same reason.", she then offered her extra drink to Corunna with a soft smile and kind eye as she teasingly remarked, "There are definitely some distasteful aspects of Nar Shaddaa... but some of the flavors you can find here are quite delightful.", and winked.

Starring Six as the NUMBER SIX

"May I have a seat?", she then politely asked Corunna, and then introduced herself while looking Corunna straight in the eyes, "The name is Sel."

[Dire Wolf]

The woman leaned her head against the booth seat as those fingers danced along the polished black steel of the shot blaster. A full bottle of whiskey rested quietly on the table beside one of her feet, which were propped up on the table. A set of grey tan BDU trousers and brown combat boots clung to her feet. Her salmon blouse was covered by a sleeveless vest that was punctuated by the barbaric blue tattoo that covered any visible skin on her right side.

It wasn't long before she heard a scuffle outside followed by a few loud bangs and even an explosion. Tahlia's fingers stopped dancing along the shotgun and placed it across her lap. A smile formed on the woman's lips as she placed the bottle of whiskey against her lips and took a few chugs. She loved the burning sensation that the whiskey provided. If only she could get a buz off of less than three bottles. Sometimes the benefits of one's race aren't exactly a benefit., "What? You don't like these guys? Look at 'em," The woman motioned towards the bar with the hand that held her bottle of whiskey before taking another swig.

Most of the men were hunched over the bar with their fluorescent drinks, some of them laughing, others crying. None of them spectacular or particularly disgusting. "Okay, so I guess that they aren't that bad. Just a little drunk," she shrugged and took another swig of the whiskey, "when are the rest of these kids supposed to get here?"

Just then a twi'lek with a light red tint to his skin sauntered up to the pair of women and spoke. "That would be me," the shotgun on her lap found its way below the table with the barrel facing towards the deck. Once he introduced himself she relaxed slightly, drank more of the delightfully painful firewater, and motioned for him to sit down at the circular booth. "Call me Tali. Tahlia's my slave name," she was joking, "just one more and we'll kick this pig."

Tali didn't have to make sense. Tali had a few fifths of Mack down and a few more to go before her second bottle was dry.

"Whatever," the woman shrugged in response to the soft looking and polite newcomer. Once Sel sat down, Tali reached into her pocket, retrieved a small disc, and activated the holographic program. A small representation of a planet winked into existence and began to hover above the disc. The planet was largely red, though there was a small portion of blue in the upper right hemisphere. "This little gem is Aphithir. The blue you see is where the population lives. The rest is a post-apocolyptic nuclear wasteland. Somewhere in that red is a cache of ultrachrome my employers are searching for. We can't be sure exactly where because of the interference given off by the atmosphere. We'll have to land in the populated area, make our way past the environmental shields, and find the ultrachrome cache."

After another swig of whiskey (she was up to three-fifths of the bottle), the woman added one final addendum to her briefing. "And landing in the wasteland is a bad idea. Every ship that's tried has been vaporized by the natives. We're going to have to pose as traders and sneak away from there. Questions?"