Hi Ho Hilo

[Fromikeable]

”Okay people, eyes up. You two-” The Quarren man snapped his fingers before pointing at a duo of mercenaries seated at a fine circular booth table. ”Turn that off.” One of them reached forward over the table’s stock of ammo and weapons to press a button on a small speaker, turning off some music.

With that, the assembled body of underworlders settled into their seats in the dining room. The restaurant they occupied was at odds with their military equipment, the decor situated for high-class clientele to wine and dine. A Duro in full body armor fanned himself with a drink menu made of parchment. A few Toydarians were fiddling with high-grade china in anticipation. A Zabrak in the back was sitting on an antique table, the robust tablecloths thereon wrinkled and stained with grime.

The Quarren at the front waved his hands before pointing up at a large holoboard. ”Today should be our last run at this big bastard. Hilo hasn’t even been sending out negotiators by this point, so he knows we’re coming. We’re going to try one last frontal assault-” The hundred or so fighting men began to jeer and shout, the tone of their voices apparent. The fighting to uproot Hilo the Hutt from his cabaret club had been disastrous so far.

”Give it up, Ohm! Just let the slug have his damn club!” The shouting mercenary pointed up at the hologram at the front of the room. It displayed a live feed from the cabaret in question, which had been fortified to bunker-like proportions. Speeders lay flaming in the street, snipers sat on the roof, the windows were sealed with metal, and turrets clung to the sides. Around it, bodies littered the ground on both sides of various blockades; the less-than-successful results of previous assaults.

”Aright, aright!” Waving his hands, Ohm managed to quiet the room again. ”I hear you, but it’s different this time. I called in some help.”

”Yeah, what merc company this time?”

”Nope. We’re getting help straight from the Compeer.” Murmurs broke out as the mercenaries hummed and whispered, the news clearly mixed.

”What kind’ve help?”

Pointing a hand at someone sitting up front, Ohm invited them up to the front of the room. Vance rose from his seat and walked up, armor already on, saber jingling on his belt.

”I’m Thelonius.” The murmurs persisted. ”This is Qiki.” Vance leveled a finger at her before continuing.

”The Compeer’s personally sent us here to wrap up this Hilo situation. If you all would like to get this done and get paid by the end of the day, I’d recommend you listen to us every, very carefully.” The murmurs slowly died back down, finally resuming the previous quiet.

”Qiki’s gonna’ tell you about her plan to deal with those automated defenses. While she does that, I’m offering triple pay for a volunteer.”

[Moonfire]

“Start shutting up, numbnuts!” A small dreadlocked human woman took her place at the forefront of their impromptu stage, a little area of the parlor where tables and chairs had been moved to make room, a holo-projector of Hilo’s last bastion of defense showing off every angle in slow rotation. “It’s Qiki-talky time.”

The slicer, more commonly known as SyntaxT3RR0R couldn’t help but grin dwarfed even now in her tattered hoodie more than four sizes too large for her petite frame. Overtop it a protective vest covered what she assumed were her most vulnerable bits, a precautionary measure almost entirely forced on her by Thel and the Compeer. “So, you buncha fucks have been slammin’ your heads against a big ol’ fuck all door for this whole seige, yeah? Amateur hour over here, amirite, Thel, bee-bee? S’okay, baby-birbs, Qiki’s gotta you. Qiki’s gonna feed you that good-good plan. Ya’ll motherfuckers’ll be safe at home jackin’ off in peace again soon.”

With a manic wave of her gloved hand, the slicer beckoned the holoprojection to unfold, showing off the full scope of the area. The blockaded cabaret was large in size, almost a vacation home for the bloated slug inside, it’s front was heavily reinforced with turrets, snipers and droids. Impregnable from the outside as proved by their first and second brute force attempts.

“What we’re gonna do is split into two teams-- Thel, our volunteer an’ I are gonna be what I call Team TotallyRad.” Little blue figures appeared in the hologram, cartoonish and surprisingly good likenesses of Qiki and Thelonious appeared under their designation. A little placeholder man stood for now besides them the shapeless void of whatever hopefully useful dude or dudette wanted that extra chunk-a-change. “The rest of you are gonna be Team Numbnuts, obviously.” Reflex had been kind enough to set up a whole battalion of all sorts and sizes for Team Numbnuts, big brutes ready for a fight under the glowing aurabesh.

Holding up a large stake above her head she used it to point at coordinating teams. “This is a data-spike. I’ve programmed it to short-out the entirety of Hilo’s security panel, crackin’ his whole lil’ club like a mynock egg. Team TotallyRad’s job is gonna be to get me an’ this data-spike to that control panel-- We’ll be usin’ this maintenance door located way the fuck out here-- Man, that guy must fuckin’ hate his servants or somethin’-- Anyway!”

The woman turned, looking back affectionately over the rabble with a grin. “Now, ya’ll are like-- ’But Qiki! What’s Team Numbnuts gonna do? Tell us Qiki, pls, we need you.’ Don’t worry, I got somethin’ real nice for ya’ll.”

Suddenly the little graphic changed, an airdropped transport arrived unleashed a massive assault droid, the little cartoonish team cheering for joy as it held it’s own against the turrets and suppressive fire. “This is TheBigBoi™, and he’ll be hangin’ out with ya’ll. Team Numbnuts and TheBigBoi™ are gonna keep those fucks busy while Team TotallyRad slips in and pops the doors open for ya, cool? Cool. Any questions?”

[Blue]

Well, he had not died. That was a thing. The resulting headache from the binge he had embarked upon after realising this fact, however, had almost made him wish he had. Willam had made a not insubstantial amount during his temporary employment to the Exchange. Bringing in information about Ylva, then chasing after Ylva, then fighting Ylva and her would-be Mandalorian paramour... come to think of it, all of my interactions with the Compeer were to do with that mushroom-brained Zabrak. Makes this next one a refreshing change of pace... I wonder how she's doing. And if she's been cured of crazy yet... Unfortunately, the captain had a bad habit of going all out when it came to celebrating the fact that somehow, yet again, he had come through a ridiculously dangerous and almost certainly fatal situation in relatively one piece. As a result, a lot of the credits he had were gone come the morning. Thankfully, he had already spent the majority of it on upgrading his ship, the Lathspell, of which he was now fully confident that any trouble she could not outrun she could certainly outmaneuver, out-endure, and possibly outgun. Still, one needed credits to stay flying and so, here he was, on another mission for the Exchange. And so far it was not looking too pretty for him. The surroundings were pretty unusual for a gathering of such a menagerie of mercenaries. It was all Willam could do not to smirk in amusement at the sight of figures who so often found themselves kicking in doors and blasting folk full of holes shifting uncomfortably in delicate furniture. So far they had been throwing themselves against the walls of this Hutt's fastness without much success and appropriately suffering the casualties one would expect. It would seem that this, too, would be his own fate. However, the Quarren who seemed to be calling the shots called the meeting (if such a gathering of delinquents could be given such an organised title) to order before Willam could begin to brood too heavily upon his bad luck. While Willam was able to keep the groan from escaping his lips at the revelation that their merry band would once again be bashing themselves against the Hutt's walls, most of his compatriots in the restaurant had no such restraint, including the plate-sized hoverdroid that had alighted on the table that the captain had placed his weaponry on, inspecting and cleaning them in anticipation of the coming shitstorm. The small clamps of the droid banged on the table (or more accurately, clinked almost inaudibly) as it burred and beeped out a colourful variation of expletives in Binary. "Yes, well, let's just listen. Maybe he has a cunning plan that doesn't involve us getting our heads blown off." Another series of squeals and clicks. "Okay, my head, then. Though technically you're nothing but head, if you really think about it." A few quiet burps of droidspeak. "Oh, very mature, Odd. Just be sure you don't burn out your processors thinking of other comebacks like that little gem." Happy with the state of his guns, Willam began fitting them back together as the Quarren announced that someone else was taking over the assault plans. This caught the captain's attention sharply, and he looked up as his hands continued reassemble his various firearms with practiced ease. A handsome young gentleman stood and began speaking, but swiftly palmed off the actual planning to his female counterpart, who quickly took center stage. Though Willam was a little put out by the appearance of someone with a lightsaber clipped to his belt, unconsciously flexing his mechanical fingers as phantom pain lanced through the cybernetic limb, the one called Qiki soon took his mind off of them and onto herself. Though he was not sure that what she was speaking was actually Basic, Willam could not help but quirk his mouth into a half-smile at the energy she appeared to exude, even chuckling at her creative use of team names. If nothing else, this new plan presented a perfect opportunity for getting himself out of the 'meat shield' section and into the 'might not get killed pointlessly' party. Slinging his rifle over his back and placing his scattergun into its holster at his thigh, Willam cleared his throat. "Myself and my companion here would be more than happy to volunteer for Team TotallyRad, if you would have us," Willam announced, indicating the small droid next to him as his prim accent cut through the murmuring crowd before anyone else could jump at the chance to not die in droves. Loading a power cell into his long-barreled heavy blaster pistol with a sharp click and holstering it at his hip, he offered the two Exchange representatives a bright smile. "I was a little late to the party, so forgive me if this is information already disseminated, but do we know the composition of the forces within, or the security measures we would face before reaching the panel to deliver your generous gift to Hilo?" Willam asked, the cybernetic prosthesis that replaced his right eye whirring whisperingly as it focused in on the terminal showing the holographic projection.

[Fromikeable]

"Amateur hour over here, amirite, Thel, bee-bee? S’okay, baby-birbs, Qiki’s gotta you. Qiki’s gonna feed you that good-good plan. Ya’ll motherfuckers’ll be safe at home jackin’ off in peace again soon.”

Oh this was a mistake. Partially covering his face with an armored hand, Vance watched Qiki's plan unfold in surprising detail. Language aside, he was glad to see that it was damn solid. It was equal parts force and deception. Hilo would think that Ohm and his mercenaries had merely come to assault the front again. The insertion of the droid would force the Hutt to commit his resources to dealing with them, leaving Team TotallyRad remarkable freedom once they were inside.

The sound of their volunteer made Vance perk up, his hand finally leaving his face. Pointing over at the man and his droid, Vance acknowledged them with a nod. Looking to Ohm, Vance motioned at the man's datapad, which he handed over. Lighting it up, a few seconds of scrolling brought up the man's name. "Rrrrrrrrrrrright... William, is it? You're with us. The droid too, as long as it can keep up." Giving the datapad a few taps, Vance designated his account for triple pay. "Ohm, do we have an answer to the man's question?"

The Quarren shrugged, sighing as he did. "Wish we did. Hilo's jammed every attempt we've made to scan the location. Nearest we can tell from what we've seen, there's probably as many guys outside as in."

"Hm." Vance raised a brow in quiet consideration before turning back to William, a few thoughts lingering in the back of his mind. With the Exchange's expansion on Circumtore nearly complete, if they could capture such a dug-in, centralized location in one piece... thoughts for later.

"Hilo's a pretty text-book member of the cartels. Most of them prefer spending lives to money, so I'm expecting fewer bombs and more... oh, I don't know." Vance started counting on his fingers. "Gas, mercenaries, maybe even try a few gross tactics with his slaves if he's desperate." Vance did his best to hide the expression of disgust that thought inspired, succeeding only most of the way. "If he thought I might show up, I hate to say it, but he might have sonics. Depends on whether or not he thought he'd get this far." Given the Hutt's longevity in this siege, it was likely a well-planned orchestration. One didn't hold out as the last bastion of Hutt influence on an Exchange-dominated ring world for long without excellent foresight.

"Basically anything that would kill us without wrecking his property. What else do they usually run when they're boxed in, Qiki?"