I know thee well: a serviceable villain; As duteous to the vices of thy mistress
Rest did not come to Mercury after the Jedi left. The blind man’s words kept circling around in his head, refusing to settle down and let him sleep. I don’t have to prove nothing he thought to himself angrily, but deep down he knew that he wanted to do something, accomplish something great before he saw his father again. He did want to see his dad again, there was no doubt there, and his brothers and certainly his sister. He smiled at the thought of her and wondered how the “vile villain” was doing.
Mercury was quiet at the dinner table, digging into the food with a gusto and appetite that only a teenage boy can bring to a meal. In his enthusiasm to eat, Mercury was oblivious to any goings-on at the table to realize that he wasn’t the only one avoid looking at the Jedi.
In the morning Mercury rolled out of bed and followed along with the group in a half-groggy state. Mornings were not a friend of Mercury, having gotten use to working swing shifts on the Kura. He was waking up enough to be his usual self when the speeder arrived at Dalroth.
The young pilot took in the landscape, noting the building and the vehicles that passed by. “Dalroth eh? It reminds me of Mos Turin, only more so.” He commented to no one in particular.
“I have an appointment I must keep in a couple of hours,” Caise said, “My mission, for the time, at least, is here…” His head turned is Mercury’s direction; “I know that you and I discussed what you might do next, Mercury, and my offer still stands; you are still welcome to accompany me if you choose…” his gaze pans over Dime, Ziv, Damanil, and Lana, as well, “…as are you all, should you so choose. I cannot pretend to know what each of your plans are…”
“Well, I don’t have anything else to do,” Ziv looked at Luna and the others, “want to hang with the Jedi for awhile? Might be interesting!” He grinned.
“Well I’m in. Not much else I can do here except hope to be hired on to a mercantile shop or become a farm hand.” Mercury said with a distain that suggested both were fates worse than death. He looked around for a moment thean asked bluntly, "So, what is your mission? Just so I know if we are hiring a ship or stealing one.”
Posted on 2007-08-20 at 00:00:29.
t_catt11 Fun is Mandatory RDI Staff Karma: 349/54 6201 Posts
"My mission?" Caise asks a tad cryptically. "A simple meeting with a collegue of my Master's, Mercury... at this point, nothing more... you may even find it boring."
Apparently, the jedi has no need to steal a ship for the time being; after perusing the wares a bit, he seperates from the group to fulfil his meeting obligation.
Across the street stands another building - perhaps a bit more pleasing to the eye in overall form, it is nonetheless constructed of the same drab polyblock as the mercantile. Fortunately, it is easy enough to negotiate, and soon, Caise finds himself standing before the correct door.
Momentarily, it opens, and the padawan is ushered into a suite that might be considered a bit lavish - certainly so by jedi standards, at any rate. Leyan Rool himself steps out, a warm smile on his face. "Caise, good to see you!"
More time than the padawan would prefer is spent in mindless pleasantries, but eventually, the conversation turns. "Naturally, Trask sent you to feel the pulse of Taanab, to see where she leans." He sighs, his expression heavy. "I wish that I could tell you."
Rool pours himself a beaker of blueish alcohol, and offers the same to Caise. "A year ago - even six months ago! I would have laughed at any suggestion that Taanab's loyalties lay anywhere but the Rebublic. Certainly, there have been rabble rousers, there always are, but nothing more. Lately, though..." he trails off, in thought.
"The TDF can no longer be trusted, though I would say that more of their corruption is based upon profit, rather than ideology - though that can be just as dangerous. The government has experienced a radical shift in the past months. Many of my fellow ministers are suddenly retiring... or meeting with accidents, and their replacements are less friendly to the Republic." Rool kills the flask in one pull.
"And there are other concerns..." he grows silent. After seeming to ponder for a moment, he opens a small case and extracts a datachip. "This is highly classified information that should not fall into the wrong hands. Take this to Trask - he will know what to do with it." He pauses, his manner serious. "Tell no one of this, do you understand?"
Assuming a positive response...
Rool places the chip inside a tiny carrying case and seals it before handing it to Caise. "Very well. My time grows short - I have official business to which I must attend. If there is nothing else?"
Now or never, padawan!
Posted on 2007-08-20 at 21:44:48.
Edited on 2007-08-20 at 21:45:52 by t_catt11
Dime was not a particularly happy camper at the time. His clothing was dirty, his luggage probably bent up, and his spirits a bit in tatters. No matter, he was where he needed to be and with a Jedi no doubt!
Thoughts drifted back to his mission, to his companions of circumstance, and to his mysterious new hosts to be. During the ride back to the plantation, thoughts of civilization filled his mind. A bed, food, a shower, and perhaps some laundry... Yellow and purple are not very visually pleasing colors when covered with the remnants of a crash landing.
Dime had removed his hat for fear of losing it during the speeder ride. His blue-hued lekki were still tied together. He decided to untie them and show the twin headtails. Without the distracting colors of the hat, his skin returned to its natural tint. The dust storm had forced him to remove the blue contacts - he hoped nobody was paying that much attention to his now piercing violet eyes. Fat chance...
During the rounds of introductions, Dime decided to go ahead and give it up. "My name... a powerful tool. Once I was known as Kol Nuro. It is a pseudonym I used once upon a time. I must confess I experienced a bit of celebrity on Corellia - the deception was a requirement. Please forgive me. You may call me Dime. I must confess it is not my official name either - if such a thing even exists. You may call me what you wish, I shall answer to Dime, Kol, or something of your choosing."
He fiddled with his hat as it flopped around in the wind of the speeder, and pretty much kept to himself as he went over the details of his mission in his mind. So few details... where to begin?
At dinnertime, Dime kept pretty much to himself, a bit out of character, but also more calculating. He only had a few more disguises tucked away in the suitcase, and he had already blown one of them to this group. They didn't know much about him though. They didn't even know what he was capable of. Probably better off that way.
Night came and Dime lulled himself to sleep on the slitherhorn. He was starting to tire of the instrument's screeching sounds... and quickly remembered why he chose the omnibox during his tour of Coronet City. After a bit of time to muster his courage, he finished his piece and went to bed.
Time to leave. Dime graciously grabbed his now-clean laundry and contemplated bringing Kol Nuro back out. Nah, no reason to stand out today.
Dime chose the more sleek look instead. Traveller's gear. Drab, boring, but functional. Khaki's, poet's shirt, vest, and more pockets than he has stuff to fill them. He masterfully dismantled his slitherhorn and kloo and stuffed them into various pockets. The bandfill and mandoviol wouild have to stay packed in the suitcase. He left his head-tails separate and free today, not really caring enough to hide his appearance. Racists be damned. He had his trusty heavy blaster tucked away to prevent any trouble.
Is this my life? I feel like such a nerd. What happened to just playing music and entertaining people? I feel like a portable electronic storm. The twilik was visibly depressed... at least he would be to anyone in his room. Datapads, datachips, fake cred sticks, real cred sticks, power packs, recording rods, comlink. He had it all. Felt like a real spy, just like in the holovids. Was this the big time? Was he for serious? Dime had been captured, escaped, killed people, hacked computers, lied to officials, stolen, forged documents. Hell if there was a Republic law out there that he had yet to break, he'd be surprised. He had even been captured, interrogated and imprisoned by the Republic itself. All a part of the job...
Why am I doing this again?
He thought back to that instance on the ship with Caise. He saw Kol Nuro in the mirror... for the first time since the farewell tour. It wasn't that long ago. He still had all the songs memorized. All the dances and routines. He could still feel the sting of the mid-show stimpacks that kept him performing despite his body rebelling.
Maybe that was why he liked these missions out on the fringes of Republic space. He didn't quite feel so bad playing the outlaw. Sure he had the lisensce to do it, and sure he was expected to do it, but it still felt a bit akward. Dime was a simple person, used to doing nothing but entertaining. That black and white world is gone now, and he is left with only the shades of gray that are politics and the real galaxy. Oh well. At least Dime knew he was good. He was smart, charming, and knew his way around people. That was half the reason he got this job. He was good at it.
(OOC: a bit late now, but I'm sure Caise will be able to pick up on his signals. File it away for later.)
*ahem* Show Time.
Daroth was no paradyse, that's for sure. But, it was a city, and therefore Dime was in his element. Unlike Ziv, Dime happily wandered around looking at things. This was his element.
"So guys, feels good to be back in civilization, no?"
As they kill time before the meeting, Dime looks for a few key things. A Fizzz... the sound reminded him of home. It was the first instrument he ever learned to play. The buzzing sound was comforting to him, despite being terribly annoying to most species. Royals and Nobles of all species tend to favor it, and thus it makes Dime feel more high-brow than his other instruments. He hadn't played one in years - and his personal one was so old it was barely functional. Time for a new one anyway, the other was only sentimental.
His mission could wait a bit - besides, how else better to survey the landscape than to spend time in it? That notwithstandin, his Jedi companion was a good asset to keep close by. They tend to lead you to things.
Damn! Almost forgot! My father would never let me hear the end of it! A blaster! he yelped in a rather random manner. "Sorry, I simply remembered a purchase I must make.
Ok, priorities of purchases:
1) Hold out blaster and power cells.
2) Fizzz horn
Posted on 2007-08-23 at 17:38:08.
Raven Resident Finn RDI Staff Karma: 69/3 1004 Posts
The welcome at the farm was a bit baffling to say the least. Damanil wasn't really accustomed to such kindness towards strangers, but did find such treatment very pleasant. Of course nearly anything would've been nice after spending a long time in the closeness of a ship. But in addition to the excellent food (once again compared to a soldier's rations) and a private room as well a refreshener - the place had a feeling of home. Sure, not the kind of upper-class home he had grown in and certainly not the kind he would one day wish to have for himself - but a home nevertheless.
The bounty hunter was quiet throughout the evening, his mind filled with thoughts of all kind - mostly having to do with his immediate future. He knew they would not be staying at the farm for longer than the one night, but after that everything was open. Dalroth was an unknown place to him. He knew the capital somewhat, but his knowledge of the whole world was very limited. Damanil had after all, only been to the system only a very short while. The others, whom he had come to help and who had in turn helped him during the escape, most probably had plans of their own. The jedi for one surely had a mission to fulfill. His kind did not move around without some sort of an agenda.
The rest of the motley crew he knew even less about. Had they simply been ignorant members of Kul' Kura's crew or were they too in on the smuggling business their former Duro captain, funnily named Dulo, had been running. Bah. Running my ass. A lackey for another Hutt no doubt. Ain't we all...
The morning came sooner than Damanil would've wanted, but he felt good leaving the farm behind. The proper rest and food had given the former soldier new strength and he was ready to face new challenges. There'd a big one coming at him soon. Captain Dulo was dead, yes. But there was no telling if he'd be getting the bounty. The deal was taking the duro back alive. The current situation was probably better than having Dulo running around alive, but one knew how these things went. It hadn't actually been him, who put the target cold, so his employer might decide not to follow the secondary clause of the agreement.
But for now, the bounty hunter will just follow his new companions and see what the immediate future brings along.
The young Jedi nodded as each of those from the Kul Kura expressed their intentions to stay with him – at least for now – even if some of them seemed as if their decision was made for the lack of anywhere else to go. “Very well,” he said following the last confirmation, “we’ll all stay together then.”
It was then that Dime – who had apparently abandoned his guise as Kol Nuro – let out a yelp and, as surprised glances turned in his direction, said; “Sorry, I simply remembered a purchase I must make.”
Caise nodded again. “I imagine, after what has transpired in the past day, we could all use something or another,” he said, moving for the doorway of the mercantile himself. As lightly as the miraluka traveled, even he seemed to have lost track of the aquata breather that had been attached to his utility belt either during the escape from the Kul Kura or the crash landing. It wasn’t a vital item to have at the moment, he thought, but since there was a bit of time between the present and his scheduled meeting with Rool, scouring the mercantile for a replacement seemed as good a use of the time as any.
After searching through the stock in the shop he was able to find a breather comparable to the one he’d lost; however the price was a bit high in his estimation. “Two hundred seventy five credits seems a bit expensive for a used aquata breather,” he said to the shopkeeper, setting the device on the counter, “A new one would only fetch 350 at even the most overpriced shops in the Core. Perhaps we can make some sort of deal?”
((OOC: Just throwing in a bit of something to “pass the time” before Caise goes off on his meeting… up to the GM how the haggling goes… our Jedi’s not likely to pay more than 175 for the used breather (maybe a skoash more if it appears to be “gently used”). Regardless of the deal or no deal…))
Having concluded his dealings at Brod’s and advising his companions that he shouldn’t be longer than an hour, Caise exited the mercantile and made his way to the polyblock building across the street. A quick recon of the place revealed nothing out of sorts and, having completed a circuit around the building, the padawan finally entered and made his way inside finding himself, before long, at the door that Rool had specified the night before. It wasn’t long after Caise was ushered in to the exceedingly lavish suite that Master Trask’s associate entered.
“Caise,” the man grinned, “good to see you!”
“And you, Minister,” the young Jedi replied, bending slightly at the waist and offering a faint smile of his own in return.
A good bit of time was spent answering the man’s less than important questions regarding Master Trask’s welfare and whereabouts along with other drivel that Caise considered unimportant to the mission. Though it was annoying to some degree, Caise indulged the man and participated in the banter as best he could, remembering that Trask had only been allowed to take him as a padawan with the condition that his social skills be addressed to the Council’s satisfaction. After a time, though, the miraluka began to tire of the inconsequential. “Forgive me, Minister,” he interrupted, “but my time is somewhat limited. With the happenings on the transport, yesterday, I have acquired some traveling companions. I told them I wouldn’t be much longer than an hour and we have yet to…”
Rool lifted a hand, stopping Caise from finishing his apology. “Naturally, Trask sent you to feel the pulse of Taanab, to see where she leans.”
“Correct,” Caise nodded.
The minister sighed, then, his expression heavy. “I wish that I could tell you,” he said, pouring himself a beaker of blueish alcohol, and offering another to the Jedi.
“Thank you,” Caise replied, refusing the drink with what he hoped was a warm smile and a subtle gesture, “but no. Please continue.”
“A year ago - even six months ago - I would have laughed at any suggestion that Taanab's loyalties lay anywhere but the Republic. Certainly, there have been rabble rousers, there always are, but nothing more. Lately, though...” he trails off, in thought.
“The TDF can no longer be trusted,” Rool continued after a moment, advising Caise of a fact that had already become more than obvious to him aboard the Kul Kura, “though I would say that more of their corruption is based upon profit, rather than ideology - though that can be just as dangerous. The government has experienced a radical shift in the past months. Many of my fellow ministers are suddenly retiring... or meeting with accidents, and their replacements are less friendly to the Republic.”
Caise saw the frantic threads of concern and uncertainty twist through Rool’s aura as the man swallowed the contents of his flask in a single gulp.
“And there are other concerns...” Rool fell silent again and, after seeming to ponder for a moment, opened a small case, extracting a datachip from its interior. “This is highly classified information that should not fall into the wrong hands. Take this to Trask - he will know what to do with it.
Tell no one of this, do you understand?”
Caise nodded. “Of course, Minister,” he replied.
The chip was returned to its case and sealed before Rool handed it over. “Very well. My time grows short - I have official business to which I must attend. If there is nothing else?”
Caise accepted the chip and secreted it away in one of the pouches on his belt before considering Rool’s last question and discovering some queries of his own as a result. Getting Rool’s chip to Trask was a priority, of course, but Caise also believed that his Master would expect him to have done some investigating of his own before accepting the facts as presented by a politician regardless of any pre-existing relationships with the man. “You feel that the ministers are being forced from their positions, then,” he asked, “I gather that sudden retirement is not something you had expected from them? Suddenly meeting with accidents, it seems, is part and parcel of politics throughout the galaxy; typically attributed to the victims’ unwillingness to bend from whatever positions from which they are trying to be swayed. Simply retiring, though, and allowing others with, as you described it, radically differing political views to subsume such highly regarded and highly sensitive positions seems more like conspiracy than fear. These ministers who have opted for retirement, can they still be found on Taanab?”
((OOC: Any reply, of course, I’ll work with what ya give me…. … beyond questioning Rool about the retired/deceased ministers, Caise really doesn’t have too many questions that have been left unanswered. He’d be curious to know if Rool had any ideas as to whom (or what organization as the case may be) might be the driving force behind the political shift and, finally, what the minister might suggest regarding transport back to Coruscant… does he have a ship he’d be willing to loan out, maybe? ))
Ziv didn’t have anything better to do so he tagged along with the Jedi and the others , besides maybe he would find something in the merchantile that he needed.
He looked around at the tools and such and sighed when after several minutes of looking he didn’t find anything he thought worth buying. “Pretty poor picking here,” he said to Luna, “See anything girlie you want to buy?” He chuckled at her. Just thinking of her in some gown or other woman’s clothing was a amusing picture. From what he had seen, Luna was not the type to be dressing up like a lady. Thought the thought of seeing her in something like that was interesting.
Finding nothing to buy, he hung out and when the others departed the store he would follow them. He wondered where the Jedi went and who he could be meeting. All this sneaking around, no wonder some people had reservations about trusting the Jedi.
He was bored here in town, nothing to work on, nothing exciting to do. “Ok, Now what do we do?” he said to the others. He hoped they had a plan, other than standing there waiting on the Jedi to return.
“I’m hungry,” he stated to no one in particular, a complaint that was often heard from him.
Suddenly he turned, his eye caught by a couple of woman walking by, he grinned, “Hey now.” The two women, obviously locals from their simple type of clothing, looked at Ziv and then at each other and giggled like children.
Ziv , who happened to be standing next to Damanil at the time, nudged him with his elbow, “Maybe we can find some other entertainment, eh?” He grinned and ran a hand through his dark curly locks.
Thou idle immaterial skein of sleave silk, thou green sarsenet flap for a sore eye
Mercury was bored. One market was much like another. Normally he would be eager to explore and enjoy himself, but the sudden upheaval of his life had taken his enthusiasm.
He followed his companions for awhile, listening to the banter of the engineers aback and forth. He admired a few machines that passed by when the soldier from the ship was always staying with them.
Normally, Mercury liked to keep clear of official types, but he was more curious than cautious at this point. "Hey?” he asked Damanil, “Soldier-boy? Shouldn’t you be off reporting to your unit? Or some command post? Why you still here?”
OOC: Not offense to Raven, it just struck me that someone should ask why he is still here.
Posted on 2007-09-12 at 19:03:07.
Edited on 2007-09-12 at 19:03:21 by zombie_shakespeare
t_catt11 Fun is Mandatory RDI Staff Karma: 349/54 6201 Posts
conspiracies and shopping
Back at the mercantile, Dime is somewhat successful in his consumer pursuits, though it would appear that he is the only one. Brod is tight-fisted with his wares, at least when it comes to the "value" areas one might expect to find in used items. Either most items - especially weapons - seem to retain their resale value exceptionally well on Taanab, or the merchant is simply trying to rip people off.
Across the way, Caise finishes his conversation with the minister. If anything, the padawan's questions seem to make Rool even more nervious.
"Most ministers who retire have a habit of leaving Taanab in short order, many of them selling family homes with no apparent plans to return." He sighs.
"The last I heard, Minister Markos had moved to Pandath. That might simply mean that he is intending on chartering a flight away from here, but I don't take him as the running type. Then again, I wouldn't have expected him to quit the minstry so quickly, either."
Rool's face grows even more troubled. "Politics is a dirty business, young jedi. Ours is not the first government to see an unfriendly changing of the guard, as it were. Still, something feels... off about the whole thing. I am sorry that I cannot enlighten you further. I have no proof of a conspiracy, no real evidence of one, but were I to have to guess, I would guess that something more that politics is at play here."
Finally, Rool answers Caise's question about transport. "I would expect that your best bet would be to either jump one of the passenger freighters, or to charter a flight. Pandath has the only real spaceport on the planet, so that would be the place to look. Naturally, we don;t exactly have a booming tourist business, but the passenger ships come often enough that you should be able to find one headed at least in the right general direction."
Posted on 2007-09-20 at 18:46:18.
Edited on 2007-09-20 at 18:46:59 by t_catt11
Raven Resident Finn RDI Staff Karma: 69/3 1004 Posts
Stickin' with ya, dude
The Jedi went on his way to do what he had to do. Fine. Didn't move Damanil one way or the other. He wasn't bound to him or the others in any way... Well, maybe the fact that TDF had tried to kill them all only a day ago did put them all on the same line. Of course it hadn't really been the whole of Tanaab Defence Forces or officially even a part of it. What had nearly gotten them all killed was greed. Simple as that. Men (and most other species as well) were greedy. The world was a harsh place to survive in and if by killing another one would have better chances of survival, then...
The redhead bounty hunter shrugged. He didn't blame Burukt for trying to shoot him in the back. The Bothan had been as little a real soldier as he was. Blah. They'd all been there for the bounty or some other reward. That's all. Hutts had a long, a very long reach. And Pulda was no exception. And that's exactly what was in Damanil's thoughts at the very moment - or at least in the back of his mind, constantly trying to push other things away. What the hell will I do now. Pulda's not going to give me another job if I fail this one... IF! Yeah right. Dulo's dead, I hope, and I didn't do it. Maybe he'll pay me anyways. Doesn't need to know it wasn't really me who blew the captain up.
The Coruscantian hadn't known Commander Albari's motives for capturing Kul Kura and they didn't really matter now. But he could only guess it had something to do with cargo Dulo had been smuggling in. Most probably the man had been aiming for some personal profit as well as getting a pat on his shoulder from his superiors. Hadn't struck Damanil as an honorable man, Albari. Hopefully the Commander died in the explosion as well. That would be just dandy for him. Albari had been the only one, as far as he knew, who had been aware of the bounty hunter's connection with Pulda the Hutt. And with the man dead... The though brought a smile to Damanil's lips.
Wandering through market, Damanil made a couple of purchases himself. Since he probably could never go back and retrieve his gear from on board the DR-400, he desperately needed a second set of clothes. There was no leaving Tanaab behind in a TDF suit. Yes, he'd made up his mind already. He'd take the first possible charter out of the system or a freighter or a transport or anything. Would that be with the jedi and his new little group, there was no telling. Maybe so. For now the lot seemed like a good group to be with. Caise provided them safety of two kinds. In addition to his formidable combat skills, the jedi would be held in esteem in most places around the galaxy. Not many would dare to question about his companions.
The smile stayed on the bounty hunter's face as he gave his credit chip to the merchant to pay for his purchases. Yeah. Sticking with them ain't such a bad idea after all. Getting back to the others, Damanil noticed the young Corellian casting a couple of glances his way. With another smile he moved closer. Mercury seemed like a likable guy, anxious to learn new things and to see the world. But boy was he young... about the age when Damanil himself had run away from his upscale family home.
In another situation, on another world, the kid's question might have turned a screw in his nerves a bit too tight and made him angry. But right now, it only made him chuckle: "Hey?", Mercury asked Damanil, "Soldier-boy? Shouldn't you be off reporting to your unit? Or some command post? Why you still here?"
Boy? I'm probably twice his age. "Well kiddo. It really ain't any of your business, but since I'm in a good mood, I'll let you in on a secret. I'm sure I'll regret this later, but hey how much more could things go wrong? Lowering his voice into a whisper too quiet for anyone else to hear, Damanil continued: "I'm not really a soldier, at least not officially. I'm not a part of the TDF. The commander just hired me to get in on a piece of business. You know how the creds turn the galaxy around, don't you? Your captain was smuggling something very valuable and the commander wanted his share and I wanted my... well, let's call it reward."
Looking around to make sure no one was listening, the redhead carried on: "So you see, I'm only wearing this suit now, to keep any suspicious TDF eyes away from us. They're mixed bunch and I've no idea if they've actually got a law they're upholding or whether they're just following rules of their own. But don't you worry. If the commander was wasted in the explosion, no one will know who you guys are... or me for that matter." Giving a friendly pat on Mercury's shoulder, Damanil started walking towards the next booth.
"So if you don't mind, I'll enjoy your company for a little longer?"
Rool’s aura jittered and constricted as Caise questioned him further on the retired ministers as well as the conveniently deceased and mused on the politics behind it all. Despite the tumultuous effects it had on his emotions, though, Rool answered as best he was able; explaining that those who retired tended to leave the planet in short order, many of them apparently severing all ties that might continue to bind them to the place.
“The last I heard, Minister Markos had moved to Pandath,” Rool offered, “That might simply mean that he is intending on chartering a flight away from here, but I don't take him as the running type. Then again, I wouldn't have expected him to quit the ministry so quickly, either.”
Caise nodded his understanding and folded his hands inside the sleeves of his robes. “The eyes only see what the mind is prepared to comprehend, Minister,” the padawan noted quietly, as if the words were originally intended as a private thought. He smiled faintly; “I would imagine that your experiences in the ministry to this point have not prepared you for what has apparently begun, here.”
“Politics is a dirty business, young jedi,” Rool replied, his energies stirring a bit to belie his troubled expression, “Ours is not the first government to see an unfriendly changing of the guard, as it were. Still, something feels... off about the whole thing. I am sorry that I cannot enlighten you further. I have no proof of a conspiracy, no real evidence of one, but were I to have to guess, I would guess that something more that politics is at play here.”
Again, the padawan nodded; “Although Master Trask has often tried to show me otherwise, it has always seemed to me, Minister that practical politics typically consists of little more than ignoring the facts and often is perceived as the art of preventing people from taking part in affairs which properly concern them.” The faint smile broadened a bit as Caise recalled a discussion he had had with Trask shortly before first being introduced to Rool. Caise reached out a hand and rested it on the man’s shoulder; “A minister who moves about in society is in a position to read the signs of the times even in a festive gathering, Leyan Rool, but one who remains shut up in his office tends to learn nothing. You are in the ilk of the former and your apology is unnecessary. You have given us a cobble with which to start our path.”
Caise withdrew his hand, having felt a bit of the tension ease from the Minister’s energies, and, once more, nodded his thanks as Rool suggested different methods of securing passage off of Taanab. “Thank you for your assistance, Minister,” he said, offering a short but respectful bow before turning for the door, “I’ll not take up any more of your time. I’m sure that you are quite busy. I’ll be sure to extend your regards to my Master.
May the Force be with you, Leyan Rool.”
((OOC: Okay, don’t want to go too much farther as I’m not 100% sure where everyone else will be when Caise gets finished… is everyone together or has everyone sort of split up and is milling about the market district in smaller groups, etc… Upon leaving the meeting with Rool, Caise’s intentions are to “gather up the party” as he finds them and advise them of his intent to move on to Pandath as soon as possible… as always, edits and backposts as necessary))
Ziv sighed when no one seemed to be paying attention to him.. he shrugged and went on following the others about the marketplace and smiling at the pretty women he passed.
His curly locks and winning smile and good looks often made him the subject of attention from females and though most of the time he didnt seek it out, it often found him.
He glanced around for Lana and caught her eye on him as he smiled and greeted the ladies, he shrugged, "Hey.. what can I say.. women love me." He grinned.
He hung back in the back of the group, glancing about every so often. He just felt like there might be some trouble since they wer travelling with someone in a TDF uniform. He definately didnt like cities on the ground, he would much prefer to be back in space. He hoped that soon they would be getting off this rock.
((OOC: Ziv is just following along hanging with the group, waiting on something to do.))
This is highly classified information that should not fall into the wrong hands. Take this to Trask - he will know what to do with it.
Though it was safely tucked away in a small pouch on his belt, Caise could practically feel the datachip vibrating for attention as Rool’s warning about its contents echoed in his mind. That warning, Caise had deduced, implied that the Minister had intended whatever information the chip contained was for Trask’s eyes only and that it should be delivered to him without delay. Initially, the young miraluka hadn’t thought to question that directive or deviate from the implied restrictions in any way but, even before he had emerged from Rool’s building and set a boot to the dust of Dalroth’s streets, Caise had already decided that he should review the datachip in advance of handing it over to his Master. Even if he and the group he now traveled with could make it to Pandath and secure transit off the planet today, the return trip to Coruscant could take several more, in which time, any time sensitive issues that could be acted upon immediately might pass into the realm of missed opportunity.
No, Trask would be disappointed if I returned with no knowledge of the chip’s contents, he determined as his gaze panned over the bustling street in search of any of the others, especially if there might be something I can do while I’m still here.
“…what can I say? Women love me?”
Caise heard Ziv’s voice before he was able to pick out the mechanic’s energies from the throng of others in the street but, guided by that familiar tone, it wasn’t long before the padawan had navigated the crowd and fallen into step beside the dark-haired man. “Love and lust shouldn’t be confused one for the other, Ziv,” Caise chided, offering the mechanic a slight grin.
“Let’s gather up the rest of our group and find an out of the way spot, shall we,” he continued, regarding both Ziv and Lana, “my business here is done and has directed me to Pandath, next. If either of you have a datapad, I may have something with which to keep you occupied, if you don’t mind.”
((OOC: Just a little update for the heck of it… going on the assumption that not all of the party was grouped up in one tight knot. Once the party’s all back together, Caise will again suggest finding an out of the way spot to discuss what he’s got planned next (cantina, restaurant, etc)… need to arrange transport to Pandath and do some delving into the contents of Rool’s data chip… Backposts, conversations, edits, etc, as necessary))
Ziv jumped a bit at the Jedi’s voice suddenly beside him. He shook his head slightly and wondered if all Jedi were sneaky like this one. He chuckled at Caise’s word, “Yeah well perhaps it was a poor choice of words but you got the picture.”
He nodded just ahead of him where the rest of the group were milling about in the throng of patrons, “you wont have to go far to find the others.”
Ziv pulled out his data pad quickly and handed it to Caise, “Hey.. I could use some excitement, it is darn boring here.”
He watched eagerly wondering what Caise had for him to work on. He ignored Lana’s glare as he beat her to the punch, ‘snooze you lose’ he thought. Besides, he didn’t have anything here to turn his attention to and he thought he might just lose it if he didn’t find something interesting to do soon.
“Hey,” Ziv beamed, eagerly tugging his datapad out of his pack and offering it to Caise, “I could use some excitement; it is darn boring here.”
The padawan grinned at Ziv’s enthusiasm but waved off the offered datapad with a subtle gesture. “Not here,” he uttered, maneuvering through the crowd towards the rest of the party, “the information I have is likely best reviewed in a more discreet location.
And do not be so eager to wish away your times of boredom, my friend,” he added with an oddly prophetic smile, “the time may come when you lament the loss of ‘nothing to do’.”
((OOC: Just a little follow-up to Ziv’s post. Per my last, Caise’s thoughts at the moment are to 1) do something about getting transport to Pandath, whether it be by public transit “speeder bus” or otherwise 2)attempt to access/review the data contained on Rool’s chip – with luck prior to arrival in Pandath and 3)not get anyone killed or the datachip destroyed in the process... BTW, Tri, if you're still in as Lana, here's a nifty place to jump in. ))
I can't believe I'm getting nickled and "dimed" ha ha!
Dime's success was bittersweet. He found a gingerly used fizzz, and the supplies to make his own reeds for it, but was astonished at the prices of hold-outs. Granted he wasn't a rich twielik, but he had his Republic stipend. Normally his badge would earn him a discount or two, but he neither had it with him, nor did this area seem like a good place to reveal his secret.
He got a steal on the horn, as he was able to convince the shopkeep that fizzzes weren't as popular as they used to be, and he wouldn't get a lot for it. Another lie... Dime thought as he paid the man. This one was personal too - not business. Was there a difference? He needed to play the part of musician, and he needed a new horn. That's justification, right?
Perhaps his Jedi pal didn't need to hear about this one.
As if on cue, the miraluka, followed by most of the group approached the corner of his vision. Dime flagged them down and approached. "Have any of you ever heard of 'The Great Al' of Alderaan? He made his career on this instrument. I used to know a few tunes on this thing, but haven't played in years."
He looked around, seeing the rest of the makeshift group milling around in the crowd.
"So... where is everyone headed? Is this goodbye?"