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Post by Mirian Santiro on Jun 6, 2014 6:05:46 GMT -8
Devlin smiled slyly and shrugged complacently, an odd combo but one he had perfected when using together. He took the Shento out of his mouth with his index and thumb and tapped some of the ashes off onto the ground."Well I guess that's the price you pay for private transport." Devlin couldn't help but snicker a bit. He would definitely have to give this girl some business pointers. She said she was a green horn, and the price of her goods only proved it. Being a legal goods only transporter was one thing, making enough money to feed yourself, buying new goods, the rising cost of fuel, hours of doing nothing, and not to mention the pirates. Always the damnable pirates."Listen, missy. You seem like a good person and all, but the last time I bought Shento cigars from a private hauler they cost me three times as much as you just charged me. You're pretty much a private contractor. You transport more specialized merchandise. You should adjust your prices as such. Although I'd like you to try and keep me in mind for giving you this tip." Devlin winked jokingly. He may be working for a ruthless corporation, but he did believe in an honest day's pay for an honest day's work....unless he was paid quadruple figures not to. When he spoke of the dress, he closed one eye and imagined a female Nautolan who he worked with next to Mirian."I know a nice place in the main city. It's a bit fancy, so wear your best.....well....unsoiled garments... I can always have one of my assistants pick you up a dress. I think Nafor has the same body size as you, maybe a bit bigger. You don't mind wearing a dress that's been worn by an amphibian only once do you?" "I'm not fussy about dresses." Of course, she wasn't going to bother mentioning that she didn't exactly have dresses that might suit the occassion he seemed to be suggesting. So she was really grateful that he was prepared to have a dress provided for her. But it also meant this was going to be a posh occassion.
Oh dear...
Mirian blanched suddenly, but tried to keep her composure. She wondered if she should warn Devlin that she can be quite the klutz, especially if it's going to be as nice a place as she thought it's going to be. So far, by supreme luck (a rare phenomena for her), she had yet to have caused a single scene just yet, with her as the main spectacle. Then again, wetting herself at gunpoint probably counted.Devlin rubbed the back of his head and averted his eyes, tugging a bit at his hair when she asked him if he was okay."Things are fine. Just a regular old planet. Lots of miners here. I work for one of the bigger companies. Some people don't like how they operate. Words can become....heated. I assume the worst so I don't get surprised or disappointed." Devlin's cheeks grew red as he spoke of business with Mirian. It wasn't a very good topic to talk about with someone who wasn't from around here. She gave the impression of someone who was....good. She might not sell him cigars if she found out some of the things he had done. He changed the subject quickly."I can tell you everything you'd like to know at dinner. Just use this to get let me know when you're ready." Devlin held out a small circular comm transmitter. It was spare, so he wasn't too worried about it. Plus it would also let him keep track of this woman, in case she was in trouble. He could be nice sometimes. With that Devlin stuck two fingers in his mouth and whistled loudly, with cigar still in his mouth. Very quickly a PL-90 luxury landspeeder showed up next to Devlin, who got in after the valet got out, and zoomed off to drop his cigars at his apartment. "Uh...buh..." Mirian stared dumbly in the wake of the dust trail left by the vehicle which left in such a bloody hurry. She blinked a few times to clear her head, and decided to head back to her ship. When she entered, she took off her clothes, and stepped into the bathroom, deciding that a shower was needed.
She thought about the brief revelation Devlin gave her about himself. So he was an enforcer for a large corporation, as she suspected. But he seemed somewhat unwilling to talk more. He used the offer to tell her more at dinner to hedge off any further conversation for the time being. Not that it wasn't his right to do so, and as she herself had said, it wasn't any of her business. Still, it seemed like he tried to buy time to prepare himself. Which suggested he was probably going to give her more rehearsed lines later to hedge any further queries she might have. That would mean he had something to hide. Was he ashamed of something?
She finished her bath and put on a bathrobe. It was a Coruscanti design and brand, and was very nice and comfortable to wear. She settled down into a hovering chair as she stared at the holographic display of Taelonn Kanral's head. The projection spun in a lazy circle, allowing her to study the entirety of his head, not that she needed a visual aid to remember her dead Padawan. The Padawan whom she failed to save. She quickly brushed away a stray tear as it fell out. Next to the holo of Taelonn, was a magnetized supporter that held Taelonn's lightsaber in a similar slow, lazy spin in the supporter's axis. She stared at the two objects for a long time, allowing herself to get lost in thought.
when she blinked, she realized that she'd nodded off, a quick check of the nearby chronometer told her it hadn't been very long. She got up and picked up a pink palm-sized cube with Jedi runes on it. But she gasped and dropped the object halfway across to the table, and she stared at her shaking hand. She struggled to stop her hand from shaking, and for a while, it looked like she was losing the battle, until at last, the trembling stopped. She picked up the Holocron and placed it on the table, and the gatekeeper appeared, a projection of herself in miniature."Open a new recording, under the category of planets and related events." She said, "Planet: Vendelhelm." The gatekeeper blinked out of existence, and Mirian was engulfed in a soft bluish light. Composing herself, she prepared to make her latest entry into her own Holocron."In my last entry, I spoke about far-reaching consequences of using the Force..." |
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Post by Devlin Lyons on Jun 6, 2014 7:53:43 GMT -8
As Devlin made his way home, he had already gone through two more cigars. It had been almost a week since he had been out of them, and he was binging a bit to counter balance the lack of them for so long. He checked the location of the comm transmitter he had given to Mirian. Spaceport, docking bay 13. He pulled up the security feed around the ship and watched she entered her ship, alone. Devlin rubbed his chin. At least now he could check off his hit-squad list. She was either very skilled in acting the part or just a normal girl from the Core, which he surmised from her accent. He turned off the security feed and began to prepare for dinner.
Pouring himself some of his private stash of whiskey and lighting another cigar, Devlin called up Nafor, the Nautolan he had mentioned to Mirian before. A picture of the strikingly green woman appeared on a screen across from the indoor bar Devlin had set up. There was loud music in the background, and the bass interfered with the sound a bit, but the advanced communication system soon compensated.
"I'm at a party. What do you want, commander?"
Devlin raised an eyebrow and almost wished he was at that party. He could see several pole dancing Twi'leks in the background. But business before pleasure, as the saying went. He took a sip from the whiskey in front of him before he spoke.
"I need to borrow a dress. I made a friend and we're going out to discuss business. You and her are 'bout the same size, so, I was considering making it an order. I'd thought I'd try and ask nicely first though."
The Nautolan blinked a few times then laughed. She wiped a tear from her eye at what she took as a joke. Devlin's face remained serious and she straightened her attitude up.
"I'd be happy to lend the lucky girl a dress. But if she rips it or gets a stain on it I'll rip her arms off and shove them down her throat!"
Devlin took another sip of whiskey, puffed off his Shento cigar, and chuckled.
"Always a pleasure to speak to you, Nafor. She's at Docking Bay 13 in the spaceport. Send a droid with your best dress there. If anything happens to it I'll pay you back."
The call ended with Nafor's eyes narrowing in suspicious anger. Devlin sighed and went to get his uniform ready for dinner. The black of the Uniform jacket and the pants made him think of his homeworld for a moment. He squelched that thought and began ironing his pants, and pinning on all his fancy medals and ribbons. He didn't like wearing them, but it was regulation, and while he was no longer in the army, he'd be damned if he made them look bad.
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Post by Simon Monroe on Jun 6, 2014 7:54:11 GMT -8
The apartment he was looking for was located in the corporate district, in a tall building nestled in with the skyscraper offices and rooftop gardens of the rich and powerful. He hated this place almost as much as the government complex, but this was where the company had decided to put up their go to enforcer. He pulled into a private hangar on the hundred and fifteenth floor, a V-sec badge could get you into a lot of places, and pulled to a stop next to a larger PL-90 luxury speeder. Good. He was home.
He pulled his badge out and used it to wave off the garage's attendant, an actual sentient being of the near-human variety, and stepped into the lift headed for floor one-thirteen. This place was a festering pool of arrogant wealth, the kind of place he felt like he'd have to wash off after leaving, and the attendant in the garage only reinforced that. Most places would have used a droid, free labor and all you have to pay for is maintenance, but whoever owned this place was making enough to put living people in his garages to greet his patrons and keep out the riffraff. Arrogant kriffer. He could already tell this visit was going to give him a headache.
The lift chimed as it hit floor one-thirteen and the doors slid open to reveal a richly decorated hallway, plush carpet running down the center of the floor and to each door along the length of the hall, and some sort of hardwood accenting the edges of the floor. The walls weren't much better, with paintings and holo-art hanging/floating along their entire length, interrupted only by the evenly spaced doors. This place was gonna make him sick if he stayed too long. Best get it over with.
He stepped out of the lift and started down the hall, his heavy footsteps muffled to near-silence by the carpet, and scanned the numbers on the doors until he found the one he wanted. It didn't take long. Apartment 113-8. Near enough to the lift and stairs to provide a quick exit, but not so near that anyone going door to door looking for him would come to his room first. Clever kriffer.
He stepped up and knocked three times, his metal knuckles ringing loudly on the polished durasteel.
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Post by Devlin Lyons on Jun 6, 2014 8:06:43 GMT -8
Knock, knock, knock.
Devlin turned off the iron and pulled out his 434 blaster, expecting a breach charge at the door next. He checked the corner out of his bedroom and into the living room and slowly made his way to the door. Only trouble came to his apartment directly, most of the time. Slowly he looked through the peep hole and saw a man standing out. He raised an eyebrow and put his gun away. The guy had the air of a cop about him. Devlin could not remember this particular cop's name, but he was sure he had seen him before. Maybe when he was being briefed about local problems. Devlin turned on the outside speaker and spoke.
"Who is it, and what do you want? I'm pretty busy."
Devlin adjusted his overcoat and straightened his white shirt underneath. He knew the cop would ask to come in, but he wouldn't find anything here. Like he was stupid enough to bring anything illegal back to where he lived. He wasn't an amateur.
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Post by Simon Monroe on Jun 6, 2014 16:52:05 GMT -8
"Commander Monroe, V-sec. Open up."
Yeah, he could've been more diplomatic about it, but diplomacy had never been his strong suite. Besides, he already knew he didn't like the guy on the other side of the door. There was a muffled assent from the other side, then several clicks and whirls as the locks disengaged, then a quiet swish as the door slid aside.
"Can I come in?"
He didn't wait for an answer before pushing through the entrance and into the apartment, brushing Devlin aside with a heavy shoulder. His instructor at the academy on Carida would have been rolling over in his grave if he saw that, but Monroe didn't much care. He pulled a death stick out of his pocket and held it up as he fished for a lighter with his other hand.
"You mind?"
He didn't wait for permission this time either, and lit up then inhaled deeply, the 'medicinal' narcotic dulling his raw nerves as it began to circulate through his system. On him, the drug had nearly the opposite effect that it did on most sentients, probably because of all the cybernetics they'd stuffed him with. If he wanted a high, all he had to do was turn them on. For some reason the death sticks got in the way of that, made him feel more human again. He was pretty sure they were going to kill him regardless, but everyone's gotta die someday, right?
"Now where was I? Oh. Right. Have you been down to the warehouse district lately? Say, the last two weeks or so?"
He glanced around while awaiting the reply and noticed an ironing table set up in one of the adjacent rooms with a stark white shirt laid out on it. He turned back to Devlin and arched an eyebrow.
"Big night?"
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Post by Devlin Lyons on Jun 6, 2014 17:48:21 GMT -8
Devlin frowned as he opened the door only to be pushed out of the way as this Coommander Monroe walked into his apartment and lit up a deathstick. He didn't mind the deathstick, but he could have done without the shoulder. Devlin crossed his arms after he closed the door behind the V-Sec officer.
"No,no....come right in."
Devlin tapped his index finger on his chin when asked whether he had been in the Warehouse district.
"You know, two weeks is a really long time, officer. I may have been there a time or two, but it was strictly business. After all, I'm paid to help protect Corporate interests. What the Corporation stores in those warehouses is Corporate interest."
V-Sec had been a pain is his behind since day one. He was apparently the figurehead of the Corporation in the city. While he had no earthly idea about a lot of things that went on under his nose, V-Sec always found a connection back to him somehow. Walking back over to the bar he refilled his glass full of whiskey and starting sipping. He extended the bottle to Commander Monroe, the label reading Whyren's Reserve: NN283. In his other hand he held an empty glass.
"Obviously you ain't scared of breaking rules. Sharing a drink man to man shouldn't be that big of a deal."
When asked the question about his plans tonight Devlin glanced over where Simon was looking, seeing his dress undershirt was still out on the ironing board. He shrugged.
"Business. Thought I'd break out the old military uniform for the occasion. She's a bit of a looker, and she's an up and coming transporter. Win win."
Devlin chuckled and sat down on a barstool at his bar.
"So what charges is V-Sec trying to pin on me this time, Commander Monroe? Murder? Illegal Weapons Dealing? Drug dealing? Cause I know a guy who can probably get you a better price on those things your smoking."
Devlin laughed at his own joke and took out a Shento cigar, biting off the tip and then lighting it with a match, puffing with a content look on his face.
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Post by Simon Monroe on Jun 7, 2014 8:00:50 GMT -8
Devlin frowned as he opened the door only to be pushed out of the way as this Coommander Monroe walked into his apartment and lit up a deathstick. He didn't mind the deathstick, but he could have done without the shoulder. Devlin crossed his arms after he closed the door behind the V-Sec officer."No,no....come right in." Devlin tapped his index finger on his chin when asked whether he had been in the Warehouse district."You know, two weeks is a really long time, officer. I may have been there a time or two, but it was strictly business. After all, I'm paid to help protect Corporate interests. What the Corporation stores in those warehouses is Corporate interest." V-Sec had been a pain is his behind since day one. He was apparently the figurehead of the Corporation in the city. While he had no earthly idea about a lot of things that went on under his nose, V-Sec always found a connection back to him somehow. Walking back over to the bar he refilled his glass full of whiskey and starting sipping. He extended the bottle to Commander Monroe, the label reading Whyren's Reserve: NN283. In his other hand he held an empty glass."Obviously you ain't scared of breaking rules. Sharing a drink man to man shouldn't be that big of a deal." "Uh huh." Whether he was dubious about his explanation of his warehouse visits or sharing a drink was unclear. He took the bottle though, then the glass, both items clinking against his fingers when he touched them. It probably wasn't a good idea, mixing whiskey with death sticks, but he was on a roll so why stop now?When asked the question about his plans tonight Devlin glanced over where Simon was looking, seeing his dress undershirt was still out on the ironing board. He shrugged."Business. Thought I'd break out the old military uniform for the occasion. She's a bit of a looker, and she's an up and coming transporter. Win win." Devlin chuckled and sat down on a barstool at his bar."So what charges is V-Sec trying to pin on me this time, Commander Monroe? Murder? Illegal Weapons Dealing? Drug dealing? Cause I know a guy who can probably get you a better price on those things your smoking." Devlin laughed at his own joke and took out a Shento cigar, biting off the tip and then lighting it with a match, puffing with a content look on his face. "Shento. Good brand. I'd probably smoke them myself if I didn't need these." He held up his hand to indicate the deathstick between his fingers. "We're not trying to pin anything on you, Mr. Lyons." He emphasized the word trying, the implication being that they already had. "I found something today that I thought might belong to you, in a warehouse over on the north end of the district. Turns out I was right. Been there about a week, unless I missed my guess. Thing is, we were following a lead that led us to the place. Murder/kidnapping. You can read all about it on the holonet by now, I'm sure." He paused and took a long drag on the deathstick, the headaches seemed to be getting worse, then continued. "Point is, you've got a habit of being in the wrong places at the right times. I'm here as a courtesy, Mr. Lyons. My oversight committee would have a fit if they found out I was bringing down an enforcer as popular with the company as you are, so I'm going to ease their pain by giving you fair warning. I've got your DNA and a crime scene, so I recommend you find a really good lawyer." All of it was even true. He DID have the enforcers DNA, and he DID have a crime scene. The other man didn't need to know the two couldn't yet be connected. It was a bluff and a gamble, but sometimes that got you farther than cold hard evidence. Especially on a planet where that evidence could disappear overnight. He glanced down at the blaster on Devlin's hip as he began moving toward the door, then stopped. "Mind if I take a look? I've never been much of a blaster man, but the 434 is about as good as they come. I've never had the pleasure of handling one before." His tone had switched smoothly from accusatory to cordial, as though he were speaking to a familiar acquaintance instead of a rival, and he set his glass down lightly on the counter before placing the deathstick back between his lips. |
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Post by Devlin Lyons on Jun 7, 2014 19:55:09 GMT -8
"Shento. Good brand. I'd probably smoke them myself if I didn't need these." He held up his hand to indicate the deathstick between his fingers."The girl knows where to get the good ones too. I've been out for a while and was having trouble contacting my old courier. Luckily this new girl had an open ad out on the holonet. Dirt cheap two. Lucky me again." Devlin took a sip of whiskey and then puffed on the cigar some more. He did not seem the least bit worried about the wording Monroe was using with his police jargon, trying to imply they were already approving the warrant to officially search his place and arrest him. This was the classic intimidation routine. He did not know what they had on him, but he usually tried not to get his hands too dirty. All he knew was that by the way this guy talked, it was circumstantial at best."You can take a cigar or two for some of your V-Sec buddies. Tell them they're doing a bang up job out there, protecting the city and all that jazz. You know, I almost decided to go to the Law Enforcement Academy back on Corellia, but got the job offer here. The money was definitely better. Besides...less red tape and bureaucratic crap." Devlin watched as Monroe went towards the door and looked down at his 434 blaster at his right side. He shrugged and unholstered the blaster, being sure to slap out the power cell before handing it stock end first to the man."It was a gift from my wife. I prefer my KD-30 with hollow points to the 434 though. No acid. Just too gruesome for me, and that's saying something. Once you see a man's brains melt through his eyes as he's still squirming it just ruins it for you." Devlin swept his overcoat to the side and showed the holster containing the Dissuader slugthrower off."It's a fine weapon. Don't get me wrong, but its just so.....what's the word I'm looking for?....Noticeable....You can see the general direction of where a blaster bolt comes from. But when you fire a slug it might take a bit longer for the target to realize where its coming from. If the crap hits the fan it can give you those precious extra seconds you need to get your squad out of the hot zone and to a better position. Either that or get closer and kill them all." Devlin smirked.Meanwhile, at the Rimma City Spaceport.A delivery droid buzzed at the ramp to the Seren Moondancer in Docking Bay 13. The camera would show it was a simplistic model, only outfitted with a single repulsorlift. Otherwise it looked like a big square hunk of junk. The droid buzzed the ship again, trying to get the attention of whomever was inside so it could get to its next delivery. |
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Post by Mirian Santiro on Jun 8, 2014 10:04:49 GMT -8
Meanwhile, at the Rimma City Spaceport.A delivery droid buzzed at the ramp to the Serene Moondancer in Docking Bay 13. The camera would show it was a simplistic model, only outfitted with a single repulsorlift. Otherwise it looked like a big square hunk of junk. The droid buzzed the ship again, trying to get the attention of whomever was inside so it could get to its next delivery. "Coming!" She said aloud and dashed for the boarding ramp. One would think having lived on the ship for so long, she'd not have any incident along the way to the ramp, but she did. She tripped over her own feet, and tumbled forward the last few steps. "Ow! Jeez!" She snapped open the door, the droid apparently huffed impatiently as much as it possibly could, causing her to arch an eyebrow. She inputted verification of her identity, and the droid handed a package to her. Without further ado, the droid turned, and left Mirian choking in a cloud of smoke. Somebody should have that droid checked for its last maintenance event. After recovering her breath, she headed back inside, and opened up the package, confirming it was indeed a dress.
She pulled it out from its container. It was very well cared for, but still smelled quite a bit fishy. Literally. Taking a sniff, Mirian surmised that Devlin wasn't joking when he said amphibious. She hoped her few perfumes would work the smell off...or would it make it worse? She decided to chance it. She examined it as she walked back to her personal quarters, in the salon pod of the ship. It was thankfully, a black dress with straps on the shoulders. Considering her proclivity for personal mishaps and clumsiness, strapless would have resulted in embarrassing situations and ruinous wardrobe malfunctions, to say nothing of the damage to the dress that would have undoubtedly followed. However, it was a sleeveless outfit, with a mid-thigh long skirt, and just happened to have cuts along the sides in just the right places, which would mean all her lightsaber scars would be visible to all.
Most of the time, only the scar on her left cheek would ever be visible at any given time, and even then, she'd use her long hair to conceal it as much as possible. After perfuming (or fumigating) the dress, and taking another bath, due to the droid's smoking her with exhaust fumes, and her own accident down the ramp, she tried on the dress. It had a "cute" look to it overall, with small frills and even small bows over each strap on her shoulders. But the garish scar on her right arm, left side, and the outer side of her left thigh were bared, as she feared. She wondered what Devlin and anyone else who saw her would make of it.
The time seemed right, so she used the comlink Devlin had given her, buzzed it, and stepped out into the cool evening. She'd put on a somewhat fancy coat that didn't clash too badly with the dress she wore underneath, as protection against the cold, and also as a means to conceal her horrid scars for a little while longer. She left her beautiful lightsaber behind, next to Taelonn's, and also her prefered S-5 Heavy Blaster pistol. There was no place for it with a dress as revealing as the one she was wearing. She did manage to conceal a small limited-ammo personal hold-out blaster, however, but again, a slight mishap would easily reveal just where she concealed it. But she kept it simply because a girl can never be too careful, especially when travelling alone in a place she knew fairly little about. |
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Post by Simon Monroe on Jun 9, 2014 7:36:21 GMT -8
Monroe took the blaster and began carefully looking it over, as though he was unfamiliar with the design. Which he was. He'd never seen a blaster with a trigger that ran almost the full length of the grip before, and to be honest, it seemed like a really dumb idea. It did make what he was going to do next quite a lot easier though. He shifted the pistol into his right hand, gripping it tightly as he would if he were getting ready to shoot. He aimed it across the room, activating the rangefinder mounted atop the gun just for the heck of it, then nodded appreciatively and moved to grab the barrel with his left hand in order to hand it back to Devlin.
"Good gun. Sturdy construction. Not too fond of the trigger being..." KA-CHEEEWWW
The harsh, high-pitched screech of heavy blaster fire echoed through the apartment as Monroe's finger pressed a little too hard on the trigger and caused the one shot left in the gun to burn a hole through Monroe's jacket and the finish on his left forearm, leaving a black scorch on the duranium surface.
"KRIFF!"
Good thing Devlin forgot to bleed the chamber before removing the power pack. That was something blasters and slugthrowers had in common. Even with the power pack removed, you still had one shot charged and ready to go. A lot of people didn't realize that, just assuming that once the power pack was out the energy was gone, but any blaster worth its salt had to prep the next shot before the trigger was pulled, otherwise the delay between the pull and the shot would probably get you killed more times than not. Very fortunate.
Monroe kept up the charade of an accident, however, and nearly dropped the gun out of shock.
"Kriffing trigger. I was just gonna say how this is a kriffing bad design. Figures I'd shoot myself up. Thank the force for duranium limbs though, right?"
He held the gun gingerly in his left hand now, carefully gripping the barrel as he held the grip out toward devlin.
"Sorry about that. No harm done, though. Right? Except this, I guess." He gestured toward the burn in his sleeve. "Well I was wanting a new jacket anyway. I should get going before I set the place on fire or something."
With that, he stepped around the other man and toward the door, stopping as it swished open to turn back one last time. "I'll be seeing you later, Mr. Lyons." Then, having done what he'd come here to do, he stepped out and headed toward the lift. THat trick better get him the evidence he needed, because Devlin wouldn't be making the same mistake twice. That much he was sure of.
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Post by Devlin Lyons on Jun 9, 2014 8:53:55 GMT -8
Devlin raised an eyebrow as the experienced police officer commenced shooting himself in the arm. He took the blaster back and holstered it."Best be careful, Commander. Even cybernetics can only handle so many shots. I should know." Devlin tightened his right hand into a fist, looking down at it as the officer left his apartment. He didn't like the idea of seeing the man later, but he would deal with that when it happened. He had good lawyers. He re-locked his apartment door and went back to readying his uniform. The white pants with the black suit seemed to clash, but when worn together they fit perfectly. Finally he steamed them to get rid of any lasting wrinkles left.His comm buzzed, the ID saying it was himself, or rather the comm he had given Mirian. Smiling to himself he donned his uniform, struggling to tighten the belt."C'mon. Couldn't have gained that much waste. I still wear the same size civies!" Finally getting his belt on right, he clipped on a similarly colored holster and put his Dissuader KD30 into it, locking his 434 in his safe. From his safe he also pulled out his lightfoil and clipped it to the other side of his belt. He looked at himself in the mirror, and winked at himself. It had been a while since he had worn this thing. He looked good. Calling up his piloting droid to the balcony of his apartment, he grabbed his white dress hat and stepped from his balcony, falling for a foot before landing in the passenger seats of his PL-90 speeder."To the Spaceport!" The roof of the luxury speeder came back up as the speeder went off to the spaceport.About twenty minutes later.Devlin tucked his hat under his left arm and buzzed the door to the Serene Moondancer. Clearing his throat and dusting off the gold maple leaf on his shoulder signifying his rank as a Major. He pulled out a small datapad and checked the time and the reservation he had made for the restaurant before tucking it back away as he waited patiently.
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Post by Simon Monroe on Jun 9, 2014 19:17:55 GMT -8
"FINCH!" There was a loud clang as Monroe's hands slammed into the large metal double doors leading into the nearest precinct's forensics lab. He had a hole in his jacket with blaster particle residue, and he wanted it analyzed before it grew too cold to be useless. In other words, he was no in the mood to be patient. Luckily, the lab was old and still had hinged doors, otherwise a technician would need to be called in to re-situate it on the sliders. Unluckily, Finch, the young female Omwati in question, was busy studying a blood sample from a home invasion case and at the sound of Monroe's loud and abrupt entrance she flinched so hard that the sample just about leapt onto the floor. She managed to catch it though, saving V-sec countless hours of extra red tape, and turned to regard Monroe with a glare.
"Kriffer! You almost made me contaminate the ONLY evidence we had in the Mosler case! What the kriff is so important anyway?"
For being such a small, dainty girl, she sure did have a mouth on her when she got angry.
"I need this blaster burn analyzed and compared with the three in the Shenlo case." She gave him raised eyebrows and a blank stare that said 'do you expect me to memorize every case file on the planet?'. "Twi'lek male. Three blaster wounds to the chest, heavy pistol. Traveling with his two younger sisters, both abducted." She nodded slowly as the details came back to her. Turns out, she actually had worked the forensics on that case. She held a hand out and beckoned him forward.
"C'mon. Lemme see."
He stepped up and held his arm out, blaster burn facing up. She grabbed him by the wrist and pulled him closer, then pulled a lamp over the burn and leaned in for a better view.
"Well if memory serves, this one's almost an identical size to the ones in Mister Shenlo. I won't know if it's a particle match until... Whoa!
Her attention was suddenly drawn past the burn marks in the jacket to the scoring on his cybernetic limb, and she reached out a finger to smudge the blackness away, revealing the dark grey metal underneath.
"This stuff isn't even scratched! What the kriff are you made of? Bes'kar?"
He jerked his arm back and pulled his jacket off, revealing both his arms in their full cybernetic glory, then held the coat out to her. She took it mechanically (no pun intended), her eyes never leaving his flat black limbs except to switch back and forth between the two.
"Would you stop staring?"
She blinked twice, then seemed to realize that she was holding his jacket and pulled the sleeve back under the light to continue her examination.
"Sorry. I just, uh... I've never seen someone with such extensive combat modification before. What's it made of? Where did you get it? WHY did you get it? How much did it cost? Who would even PAY for all that? What can it do? Does it feel weird? How much of it is there? Do you have to plug in at night?"
He raised an eyebrow at the bombardment of questions, each one crashing over her tongue on the heels of the next with barely a pause for breath. The last one especially made his eyebrow raise even further, and she blushed a deeper shade of blue and bent back over his coat sleeve.
"Sorry. I uh... I ramble when I get excited."
"I noticed."
"I'll get right to work on a particle signature match. Gimme twenty minutes or so."
"Alright. I'll be back later then."
He turned and headed for the door, but stopped and turned back when she called his name.
"Monroe? If you wouldn't mind, I'd love to take a look at those sometime. Cybernetics is kind of a hobby. I always wanted to work for Neuro-Saav then I was a kid."
He sighed heavily at her request. He was uncomfortable enough wearing a coat to cover most of the implants, and now she wanted to examine them in detail. Eh, what the hell. Couldn't be any harm in letting her have a look. Maybe she'd figure out something to do about that blasted computer in the back of his skull.
"I'll see what I can do. In the meantime, focus on the signature analysis."
A little incentive never hurt anybody, right?
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Post by Mirian Santiro on Jun 10, 2014 3:06:34 GMT -8
Devlin raised an eyebrow as the experienced police officer commenced shooting himself in the arm. He took the blaster back and holstered it."Best be careful, Commander. Even cybernetics can only handle so many shots. I should know." Devlin tightened his right hand into a fist, looking down at it as the officer left his apartment. He didn't like the idea of seeing the man later, but he would deal with that when it happened. He had good lawyers. He re-locked his apartment door and went back to readying his uniform. The white pants with the black suit seemed to clash, but when worn together they fit perfectly. Finally he steamed them to get rid of any lasting wrinkles left.His comm buzzed, the ID saying it was himself, or rather the comm he had given Mirian. Smiling to himself he donned his uniform, struggling to tighten the belt."C'mon. Couldn't have gained that much weight. I still wear the same size civvies!" Finally getting his belt on right, he clipped on a similarly colored holster and put his Dissuader KD30 into it, locking his 434 in his safe. From his safe he also pulled out his lightfoil and clipped it to the other side of his belt. He looked at himself in the mirror, and winked at himself. It had been a while since he had worn this thing. He looked good. Calling up his piloting droid to the balcony of his apartment, he grabbed his white dress hat and stepped from his balcony, falling for a foot before landing in the passenger seats of his PL-90 speeder."To the Spaceport!" The roof of the luxury speeder came back up as the speeder went off to the spaceport.About twenty minutes later.Devlin tucked his hat under his left arm and buzzed the door to the Serene Moondancer. Clearing his throat and dusting off the gold maple leaf on his shoulder signifying his rank as a Major. He pulled out a small datapad and checked the time and the reservation he had made for the restaurant before tucking it back away as he waited patiently. "You missed me outside, Devlin." She smiled and clasped her hands in front of her, standing at the base of the ramp. She suddenly felt a little more self-conscious when she saw how well dressed he was. And obviously he had a military background, because she recognized some of the insignia and rank displays. He was a major, from what she could guess. That'd mean highly experienced in his fields where firearms and combat tactics would be concerned. She was fairly certain that he would demonstrate said violence on her, but it still made her nervous. Considering how handicapped a fighter she was, she wasn't comfortable with people superior to her level of prowess, which basically consisted of 99% of the universe. |
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Post by Devlin Lyons on Jun 10, 2014 16:46:19 GMT -8
Devlin turned and when he heard Mirian behind him. He bowed slightly with a smile, and then put his hat back on.
"Sorry I'm a bit late. Got caught up with some personal business that could not be avoided."
Devlin tapped his wrist and pointed to the exit.
"Sorry to rush this but I don't want to lose our reservation at Krischlev's. I may have gotten one last minute, but he doesn't like me enough to hold a table open forever."
Devlin extended his hand to walk Mirian to the speeder. It was an odd change in his personality. Say what you will about the man, but when the situation arose, he was a gentleman.
"I'm glad the dress fit well. You look really good in it. I hope the smell was not too bad."
His pilot droid brought his speeder back to the entrance to the spaceport and waited for a few moments before spotting them. Devlin opened the rear door for Mirian and gestured inside.
"Ladies first."
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Post by Mirian Santiro on Jun 11, 2014 3:20:16 GMT -8
Mirian wondered about that personal business of his, and once more, she had one of those classic Star Wars "bad feelings" building up in her gut. She suppressed the urge to delve into the Force once more. The problem with using the Force, it was like an addiction; once you start, it's hard to stop. So she distracted herself by paying attention to other things, like what Devlin said about this Krischlev, and the fact that he doesn't have enough pull or influence to hold open a reservation for too long with said person and/or location.
She slowly accepted his offered hand, gently clasping it, and fighting to stop the involuntary trembling. Most often, the trembling was mistaken for nervousness, and sometimes, even Mirian wondered if that were the case, but she felt for the most part, oddly neutral inside. So unless that was what nervousness felt like, then there might be more amiss with the frequent shakes and odd blinking of her eyes. She blushed when Devlin complimented her in her dress, and she glanced down at herself, not quite sure how to accept such a compliment when she felt like it wasn't an accurate statement of herself. How could anyone consider her even slightly attractive? Does he not notice the scar on her face? Or the scars on the rest of her? She subtly tightened her coat over herself, wanting to conceal the scars on her body for as long as possible.
"Thank you..." she managed quietly to acknowledge the compliment with a pained smile. "It didn't smell bad at all. Also, please thank your friend for me, who loaned me this dress."
When Devlin opened the door and gestured for her to enter first, she smiled again and nodded in appreciation of the gesture. She gingerly entered the vehicle, and tripped on the ledge, but somehow caught herself before utterly embarrassing herself in front of Devlin by catching on to the nearest seat backrest and quickly pulling herself the rest of the way in. She settled down with a soft sigh of relief that nothing untoward had happened just yet. At least, nothing so disastrous that would make her want to hide her face in a brown paper bag for a month.
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Post by Devlin Lyons on Jun 11, 2014 10:26:20 GMT -8
Devlin frowned a bit as Mirian seemed to shake a bit, before stopping as she forced herself to. Was she nervous? It was a little unorthodox to take out a transporter to such a fancy place to discuss their business. But Krischlev owed him a favor, and the man's favors tended to have an expiration date, so he thought it was a good time to get a nice meal without the month long wait.
"I'll be sure to tell Nafor you said thanks. She did speak very firmly when she said not the ruin it."
Devlin chuckled a bit as the speeder took a turn and began climbing in altitude.
"Don't worry. She just thinks I'll get you into trouble and something might happen to it. It's nothing bad about yourself."
The PL-90 began to slow down and level out as it flew around a tower in the central center. It finally came to a stop at a landing pad that was decorated with some vine-like plants around the railings. Several other speeders pulled up around their own, several other people stepping out in fancy dress. Devlin opened the door and got out onto the balcony, holding his hand out to help Mirian out. The sign glowing above the door read Krischlev's. It was written in some kind of swirly cursive, possibly to let on how fancy it is.
"Right on time. Let's get ourselves a nice seat before I'll be forced to draw my light foil on someone to get theirs."
Devlin winked his left eye at Mirian, implying he was joking. Putting his dress hat back on, he took her hand when she got out and walked her to the door. The droid host bowed and then held out its hand. Devlin tucked his dress hat under his arm as he walked inside, and then reached into his inner jacket pocket and pulled out a small holochip. The droid inserted the chip into its podium, and nodded when the correct information came up. The droid gestured for them to follow it, and brought them to a table in the center of the room.
The room was brightly lit by crystal chandeliers, the tables also having individual candles surrounded by small crystal spheres. White linen tablecloths, darkly stained hardwood floors, and seats with bit cushions. The restaurant was starting to fill up, but still maintained a solid margin of "reserved" tables. A restaurant can't be called exclusive if you don't have tables on hold for people who are never going to show up.
Devlin walked around the other side of the table and pulled out Mirian's chair for her to sit.
"Do you have a particular wine you prefer?"
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Post by Mirian Santiro on Jun 12, 2014 0:11:29 GMT -8
Mirian blinked a few times at the comment about Nafor. She brushed her hair back. "She might not be too far off..." she said softly, but smiled at his reassurance.
She leaned back and allowed herself to enjoy the ride in a very fancy and nice speeder. She maintained the smalltalk, but couldn't quite suppress the town girl in a big city as she studied their approaching destination. Granted, she came from a megalopolis, Corellia, but she was still breathtaken by the lovely cities in the galaxy.
When they landed, and she saw all the other people coming out, and all the prettier women, she felt self-conscious again and lowered her head, not daring to look around at the others anymore. She accepted Devlin's offered hand with a polite smile, and tripped on the edge of the speeder's door once again, but kept from falling flat on her face thanks to a hold on Devlin's hand.
She frowned when he suggested taking his lightfoil to someone to get their seat, but then laughed lightly at his levity, when she realized by his wink that he was joking...she hoped. Once inside, a servant droid helped with the coats, and helped take Mirian's as she shed it. She glanced nervously at Devlin, wondering what he'd make of her scars now that they're no longer hidden by the coat. The dress seemed designed to showcase all of them in screaming clarity. She awkwardly covered the scar on her left side and right arm with her hands, though she couldn't do much for the one on her thigh or her face. She felt so disfigured amongst such prominent folk.
They walked over to their appointed table, and still the gentleman, Devlin held the chair for Mirian, who tried very carefully to sit down without incident. Thankfully, she managed that. When he asked her what wine she preferred, she swallowed. There's a reason why she didn't take alcoholic beverages. She was already clumsy enough sober, getting drunk would only make things a hundred times worse for her dexterity. "Uhm...I don't drink anything alcoholic. FUIs are nasty, and...uh...well, I...I'm...allergic to alcohol?"
Total lie. But on the other hand, considering how badly she handles even the smallest amounts of alcohol in her system, maybe she wasn't too far off the path saying that.
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Post by Devlin Lyons on Jun 12, 2014 7:10:57 GMT -8
Devin raised an eyebrow at Mirian as he sat down. He couldn't imagine not drinking alcohol. Of course it didn't really effect him, so it wasn't like he was wasted all the time.
"That's....a shame....Well I hope you don't mind if I do drink."
Devlin picked up the holomenu and began thumbing through it. He looked over to the droid to order his drink and food.
"Corellian Brandy, Reserve. Bring the bottle. For food I think I will go with......The Grilled Nerf Porterhouse, with a side salad."
The droid beeped something in binary, which made Devlin frown. The droid looked over to Mirian after writing down Devlin's order. He waited for her to order. In the meantime Devlin was still flipping through the menu, now looking in the dessert section, for what he wanted after the main course. He looked up at Mirian and waited for her to order before speaking, just as the waiter droid rolled off.
"So down to business once more. How often to you think you might be making the trip to Vandelhelm? The Vandelhelm Cloud makes it a dangerous trip to anyone who doesn't have the skill."
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Post by Mirian Santiro on Jun 12, 2014 7:50:18 GMT -8
"No, no, go right ahead." Mirian quickly answered assuringly. She genuinely didn't mind. Besides, she'd seen him down vast amounts of alcohol, and he didn't appear the least bit truly inebriated. So she figured he'd be all right despite the consumption. To avoid being too awkward, she ordered a sparkling drink (which she managed to quickly notice as also one of the cheapest drinks available, and the only thing she could see that didn't have alcohol in it). Her Coruscanti accent was starting to come out strongly again as her state of confusion and self-consciousness grew with each passing minute.
"I'll try...that, please." She told the waiter droid, pointing to something on the holomenu. She wasn't sure whether she'd have room for anything else, so she staved off ordering anything else.
She settled back in her seat when he inquired about how often she might be visiting Vandelhelm. She smiled pleasantly, and set her mind to stop worrying about her appearances, and focus on business. Money's to be made, and an honest girl needs to eat.
"I believe I'll be coming by here often enough, honestly. While on our way here, I saw a trade center in the city, and they had some large advertisements requiring transporters for import and export. It sounds lucrative to me. So I can have delivery for your Shento cigars almost on a weekly basis if need be."
She thought about her flight through the Vandelhelm Cloud earlier, and smiled confidently. "While there are many things that may perturb me on the ground, in a ship, I can certainly navigate my way through just about any asteroid field, even one as challenging as the Vandelhelm Cloud."
She gestured at herself, "Hence why I am here, with you, having dinner. Satisfactory?"
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Post by Devlin Lyons on Jun 12, 2014 11:35:38 GMT -8
Devlin's eyes lit up as a waiter droid brought him a bottle of Corellian Reserve Brandy and a glass, setting both on the table. He immediately uncorked the bottle and poured four fingers of the drink into his glass. He took a long sip of the sweet tasting, alcoholic beverage before speaking."I believe I'll be coming by here often enough, honestly. While on our way here, I saw a trade center in the city, and they had some large advertisements requiring transporters for import and export. It sounds lucrative to me. So I can have delivery for your Shento cigars almost on a weekly basis if need be." "Vandelhelm is a resource rich world. The companies that have rights to the land pay good credits for competent transporters. People who can safely navigate the Cloud are in short supply. The company I work for could help you get high priority goods to transport. Better pay, less work...most of the time. There is a chance several of the packages would require 'No Questions Asked.' I can try and keep the bad jobs from making their way over to your comm." Devlin finally could hold back the question anymore."I know this is a bit personal, but when did you have a run in with the business end of a lightsaber? The scars on your left side. Must have been someone with a grudge." As soon as Devlin stopped speaking the waiter droids came back to their table and placed their meals down in front f them. Before Devlin lay a twenty four ounce porterhouse steak, with a tiny salad to someone off balance the horrible amount of what could only be clogged arteries and heart attacks in his future. Devlin wondered what Mirian had ordered, having only pointed on her menu, and glanced over as he began cutting his steak. She seemed to be ordering less pricey items. Did she not know he was covering the bill, or was it because she did know. Devlin sighed, and in his mind the word 'Women' echoed for a moment.
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