Mornings Come and Go

[CaptainBonkers]

Once again, the chakaar dressed in mando’gam presumed to give him orders, this time staring him straight into eyes from fairly short distance away. Once again, the orders were barked out in basic, further confirming Jayec’s suspicions about the man. He might not have any idea who the di’kut was or who he thought he was but one thing was certain. The bloke was aruetii. Under his helmet Jayec snarled, managing to contain his anger and first reaction of merely shooting the shabuir for daring to wear a Mandalorian armor. However, the situation at hand was more pressing than teaching some aruetii bastard a lesson about cultural appropriation. Once this whole snafu was cleared, though...well if he ever ran to the man, Jayec would make it very clear what happened to people that dared to wear Mando’gam without being part of the Mando’ade.

Ignoring the shabuir’s orders, Jayec turned to his warriors. “Right. There are only two reasons anyone would bother with a shitshow like the one outside as a distraction; to set up a hit on the bosslady or to blow this whole place up. Maybe even both. In either case, bombs are the way to go, if they’re any smart.”

Explosives might not have been the most elegant of solutions but no one could deny their effectiveness in killing people. Rare was the person that could take a blast from a high explosive and survive. Even jetii and their darjetii counterparts, with their force sorcery and fancy glowsticks, could do little to keep themselves alive against a properly placed bomb.

“Rusa, Baric, check the generator room. Ask the security question from anyone you meet on the way. If they say ‘huh?’ shoot them and keep going. We aren’t taking any risks.” the two warriors nodded before rushing off to the direction of the generator room. Jayec turned to his remaining comrades. “Jayna, take Vherr and check the main ventilation accesses. Kenna, you’re with me to Miss Faine’s quarters.”

With Kenna in tow, Jayec charged towards the nearest stairs that led to the upper levels, leaping two or three steps at a time. If there was an infiltrator roaming within the Eye there was no telling what kind of damage they might already have caused. Every second of delay just gave the bastard more time to set something up. It was time for the guy to be on the receiving end of a Mandalorian security sweep.

The two Mandalorians reached Lidah quarters few minutes later and halted to take stock of the situation. The entrance to her personal apartment was untouched. No signs of forced entry or even that someone had tried to tamper with the high tech lock. However, the door leading to the maintenance space down the hallway was ajar, which Jayec found intrinsically suspicious. Readying his rifle, he motioned Kenna to follow him towards the door and approached quietly. As they got closer, it became clear that someone was inside.

Beyond the door a human male dressed in the armor worn by the Eye’s security was kneeling down next to the wall and installing something roughly the size of desk fan on the wall. “A bomb.” Kenna signaled with her hands. Jayec nodded in reply and stepped in, training his gun at the figure. “Hands up! Where did I put my bath bombs?!” he demanded from the thoroughly surprised man.

There was no reply, only a surprised stare. The man went for his gun but a quickdraw artist he was not. The very moment his hand began moving towards the holster on his right hip, Jayec opened fire, hitting the man squarely on the chest. The heavy rifle ripped straight through the armor and left a smoking hole on the man’s chest. A lifeless body slumped down next to the half activated bomb. “Get to deactivating that, I’ll call this in.”

Jayec activated his comm and flipped the channel to Thel’s. “Oi, mate. We got the bugger.”

[Neology]

[googlefont="News Cycle"]

A few rooms over, something died. Through the eyes of her pets, Lidah saw her guests and employees both comb the building. The danger, it seemed, had passed. Sipping from her glass, she crossed over to her personal console and keyed up a secure link to Ingrey Hertz’s earpiece. ”Belay those previous orders. I only want to see Tyrvast. The others can get their new marching orders from Thel.” An amused smirk played across her lips as the security question came back over the line in the Firrerreon’s deep bass voice. ”Technically they’re bubble bars. Oh, and call in Ylva Vuk for clean up.” Lidah cut the connection, calling up a 3D projection of the Eye. Peace was beginning to reassert itself over her domain. Still, it would be a long day ahead. Measuring out the proper response and looking for the real culprit. Dodge, parry, spin. An alert came in while she watched, a situation developing at a hotel she owned. Her fingers hovered over the keypad then dropped to her side. With a thought, she disconnected the machine from the datajack on the wall. Vance could handle it. He’d grown into a very competent young man, much to her pleasure. A few hours of pleasant radio silence would hardly mean the end of the Exchange. And none of that was a good enough reason to let a nice bath go to waste.

[Fromikeable]

One of the presences flickered out as Jayec neared it, Vance pausing for just a second to inspect the fading life. It was horrified, locked in shocked, silent panic as death overtook it, but it flashed with anger at its failure.

One traitor down. Three more to check.

The three remaining presences were all converging, causing Vance to step up his pace. Coming upon them, Vance barged through their jovial greetings, smashing their celebratory mood as he stopped them all, saber in hand.

"Where are my bath bombs?" Staring at them, their faces collectively drooped with mixtures of confusion and concern. As soon as one of them remembered, however, they snapped their fingers and smiled. The other two, watching the revelation, nodded as well, and timing one another, they answered in unison.

"Technically they're bubble bars."

Sighing with relief, Vance clipped his saber back to his belt, a hand rubbing his forehead. "Go report in to Hertz. We've got an entire day of damage con-" He was cutoff by his own communicator buzzing in his pocket. Frowning, he drew it out and looked at the screen.

CORELLIAN SAVOIR INN JUST EXPLODED.

"Force damnit." Today would just never end, apparently.

"Everything okay?"

Huffing a little, Vance put his hands on his hips. "I need a speeder and a jacket. Help me out." Between the three of them, they produced a set of speeder keys, a black leather jacket, and a pair of dark shades. Popping on the latter two, Vance led them back down to the lobby. As they joined the rest of the security personnel, Vance and Hertz exchanged looks, the grey Jedi just shaking his head at the bewildered security head.

Without another word, Vance was hopping into the speeder and disappearing into the afternoon.

[Rugs]

Locke roamed the halls of the Eye a short time later. Everything had been handled, by that that point. Jayec’s crew had found the perpetrator and dealt with the potentially-messy work of diffusing the bomb.

Locke couldn’t help but shake his head and laugh at the audacity of it all. A brazen attack in the middle of the day, followed by a bomb threat at the heart of Novus’ power? This Botto character is either one of the boldest Hutts around, or the biggest idiot this side of the Core. The two weren’t mutaully exclusive, Locke supposed.

He assisted with a final sweep of the Eye’s premises, to confirm that the day’s excitement was done. It was indeed, or at least, it was on the home front. Vance rushed off to handle some call. A bombing as Locke understood it, from the excited conversation of some security he’d heard talking about the incident.

It gelled with the sudden warping of fear and pain he’d felt in the Force shortly before Vance took off. Something was afoot on the Smuggler’s Moon. But is this just a power play from an overconfident Hutt? Locke leaned against a railing on a second floor walkway that overlooked the main game floor. That can’t be it.

Interesting times, indeed.

Locke suspected his stay here, which was supposed to be little more than a visit to an old friend and to someone special, was going to stretch a few days longer than anticipated.

That’s not so bad, he told himself with a silent smile. At least he’d get some actual work done in the process.

“First thing’s first,” he said, pushing himself from the railing and turning on his heel off into the Eye’s bowels. He still needed to visit with Novus, but before he could rightly settle his mind on that, he needed to tend to a problem.

His wanderings seemed random, but with the Force to guide him, he found who he was looking for — a certain ex-Jedi turned mercenary.

“You and I need to talk,” Locke said simply to Jazen. “I’m not here to fight you or fuss at you. But we are going to talk.”

[Meira]

A chunk of duracrete fell from what had once been the front wall of Fork. The street was quiet now, with most of the dust settled. A few beings were beginning to poke their heads out of nearby doorways and windows, their wide eyes scanning the wreckage that had been one of the nicer parts of the area only hours before. Those beings quickly withdrew from view as four large speeders came cruising around a corner in formation. They arrived at the scene, hovered for a few moments and landed. The sliding side doors of each speeder opened and a number of large, muscular men filed out from each. They all wore the signature black shorts and tank top uniform of the Jolly Janitors Cleaning company, complete with small white decorative aprons. Over their shoulders, packs full of cleaning supplies and other gear were slung. Last to step out of a speeder was the owner of the company.

Her boots crunched on the debris as she strode toward the restaurant. One hand rested idly on her hip while the other fished in the inner pocket of her rancor leather jacket for her pack of cigs. Once the box was in hand, she deftly fished one out, along with the small lighter. A few seconds later, that practiced hand had lit the cig and returned the box and lighter to her pocket. Ylva Vuk took a long drag from the cig, relishing in the burn and tingle it left in her throat and lungs before expelling the smoke through her nostrils. Violet eyes scanned the scene while her men got to work.

Stepping over chunks of the front wall, Ylva walked into what remained of Fork's dining area. The tables and chairs laid strewn about. Most were broken into splinters. Some might be salvageable, but Fork wouldn't keep them. They'd find their way to consignment shops or charity stores in the poorest sectors of the Smuggler's Moon. Hell, she might keep something as a memento. She'd always liked Fork. Best pancakes on Nar Shaddaa. From where it was clipped on her belt, Ylva's comm chirped. She grabbed it with her free hand, taking another long drag from her cig as she activated it.

"Ylva, sorry to bother you so early." It was Hertz's voice.

"I was already up." she replied.

"Your services are requested." Hertz said, and Ylva smiled. "The Fork is doing some remodeling. There's quite a mess and they could use some help cleaning up."

"They've been needing to open up their floor plan for a while." Ylva said.

"Can you make it over today?"

“Sure, why not.”

”Oh, and when you get the chance-“

“The Corellian Savior?” she interrupted.

”That’s why you’re the best.”

“Yeah, yeah. Don’t kiss my ass Hertz, just make sure the payment transfer goes through.”

Ylva glanced around at the ruins of the restaurant, deactivating the comm and returning it to her belt. A few of her crew had come toward her, expectant looks on their chiseled but otherwise bland faces. Ylva took one last drag from her cig and let it fall to the ground. She stamped it out with the heel of her boot and looked around at the men. "Well," she said, letting the smoke out with a puff, "let's fucking get to work."