OPEN SIGNUPS Star Effect IC Chapter 1: Delivery Woes

[The Wanderer]

Arrival on the Citadel


A place of commerce, various species walking around and exchanging items in the marketplace. A Volus trying and failing to sell his wares as an observant human spots the badly made replica of the famous smuggler's gun. Or the Rodian selling certain pictures of other species in a themed shop. Many purchases were done wirelessly so certain customers couldn't be seen buying certain materials. And as usual there was a hacker stealing info on said purchases to be used in blackmail. Another average day in the Citadel.

But there has been a recent uptick in shadier dealings occurring underneath the surface. Smuggling is getting more rampant and the C-Sec is tied up in asinine bureaucratic tape that is used to the fullest by corrupt agents. Folks running around with weapons on display get pardoned by a mere electronic pad. Certain aliens were allowed where they wouldn't otherwise be allowed because of a seal from a higher up.

Which is where you come in.

You each get a special call on your communicator, the dreaded call that you knew was coming someday but prayed it never did. For everyone it was a little bit different.

For a certain plucky Quarian. She had her substantial debt brought up and was kindly reminded that she could clear the debt by coming to the Citadel via the shuttle that was automatically sent for her. And that attempts to delay or let's say try to alter the shuttle's path would lead to it exploding at the wrong time and the Migrant Fleet getting a bad reputation for essentially launching a terrorist attack on a major hub of commerce.

For a certain escaped experiment, she had been lured in with the promise of specialized tech that was just too promising to pass up. And promptly trapped when she docked, a messenger telling her that attempts to leave would be met with a catastrophic failure in fuel pipes that'd blow up the bay she had docked in. And even if she had somehow made that unavailable, her favorite trader for parts would tragically die via purely accidental causes. Their shop somehow venting its oxygen or voiding the room completely.

For a certain alien that decided he'd fight some slavers in the past, he would be facing getting served to said slavers on a silver platter. With the added bonus of his people being made easier to be enslaved. Whatever was necessary to ensure he didn't try to push off his little appointment.

For a certain former Imperial agent, well that was a simple blackmail. His little idea of faking being dead would be revealed as being a ruse on top of a little snitch speaking up about his location on the main place of commerce.

For a former Inquisitor, she would obviously have her past sent off to the New Republic with doctored footage to make it look like she was back to the old ways of Imperial being spread amongst the public which would obviously lead to public outcry and a Galaxy-wide manhunt just for her. But all she had to do to avoid said outcome was just to come right to the Citadel and meet up with some folks and do a little favor.

All of you very obviously didn't want anything of the sort to play out so you hightail it through whatever means were available to you to get on the Citadel. Where nearly instantly you are approached by shady looking individuals. Each encounter was nearly the same. Dressed in long coats with the most generic nearly forgettable faces you can imagine, evidently armed from the holstered blaster pistols. Each handed you a special electronic pad that basically waived your passage to certain areas that were restricted to your types.

"You'll meet the Illiasion in the Presidium Ward, meet at this room." Dull near robotic words would drone out before a room number was flashed in a holo-picture.

The 'dead' Imperial would recognize the man in front of him was a clone. A cheap version that'd no doubt die within the year, not really meant for long term usage but for the ease of liquidation in case the clone was found doing something that'd risk catching a lot of attention. In fact the clone would refer to the Imperial by his rank.

The effect of the pads would be immediately noticed. For C-Sec would very not be pleased to see you walking around in public armed and would approach to confiscate weapons. But a wave of that special pad and suddenly the faces of C-Sec would change. For some it was frustration, the look of someone who had smelled something foul but couldn't speak up about it. Or with the Quarian, the looks she got were ones of pure and unadulterated confusion. The Turian was stuttering as he read the pad before he waved her on. Grumbling about why was a Quarian walking around with a Government seal. The rest got concerned but tired looks as if they had been through the wringer before and didn't want to have another headache to deal with.

"Don't cause any trouble or whoever's ass you've been kissing won't be enough to save ya."

No doubt earning strange looks as you each entered the luxurious sector meant for the elite and officials for the Merchant groups, you followed the directions given until you began to encroach on each other as you assembled before a door that read with bright green colors. The Quarian would recognize a certain Mandalorian amidst the strange party gathered.

"Broker - Melissa Sanders: Open."


Before someone can even reach towards the door, it shot open and an older woman who looked like she was a microsecond from killing someone. "Get in. Sooner I'm done with you lot, the sooner I'm not having a shit day." She spoke with a heavy accent, hard to discern where it had originated from but the looks she gave the more alien members of the crew denoted that she didn't like them especially. She looked as if she had served in a military of some kind. Harsh eyes, grayed hair and an aura of authority.


Stepping into her office was like walking into a smoker's den as the smell of tobacco filled the air and there was a light smokey haze over the room. "So you miserable lot are called here to fulfill a simple task a braindead ape can succeed in doing. A simple smash and grab on a ship that is currently missing somewhere in the Galaxy. Exact whereabouts are unknown but we have some intel that a crime-boss on Omega may know the coordinates on the ship. Get the item and bring it to Hanger Four on this station and you can all go back to whatever sad excuse of lives you have." After speaking, she takes a deep puff off a stick and exhales a plume of smoke before asking in a disinterested but expectant tone. "Questions?"

@littlekreen @PolyesterH @Noble Scion @Wiggin @Nomad-22

 

[PolyesterH]

Dardall looked at her. His eyes are half shut, not narrowed from scrutiny but from being tired. He looks at the other people in the room. The Quarian. The blue haired woman. The person in the weird getup. The Nelvaanian. They were all either carrying weapons he didn't immediately recognize or wearing something that would make them stick out like a sore thumb. None of these people have heard of the concept of blending in at any point in their lives. The Broker certainly hadn't heard of the idea of 'Make sure all the people on a team aren't shown to clearly associate with each other so they have options for infiltration'. When he does look back at the Broker, they speak with an arctic tone.

"Yes. I have a few questions. Why did you select all of us for such a simple job? Do we have a ship to get to Omega and what can you tell me about it? What are we grabbing? What ship model is the target and do you have the schematics? What operating system does the target ships systems use? Whats on the target ship that'll get in the way? Any non standard security systems on the target ship?."

There were other questions, some of them implied or covered less directly through the others. Is this the only job you'll have us do? Why are you taking me seriously enough to pick me?

How they found him was pretty obvious. That's not something that got his attention. It was luck that got him caught. There was a very high chance nobody noticed because people tend to be stupid, a very high chance anyone that did never bothered because they tended to be apathetic, and a very high chance anyone that bothered wouldn't find him because the people they employed were typically stupid. He rolled 3 20 sided dice and got 3 1's. It was what it was.

His droid, to its credit, sat pretty and did nothing but observe the others.

 

[Wiggin]

Tanya had stood out a fair amount given her choice of attire being that of an arguably primitive set of clothing. She had decided to leave her actual armor on her ship in the docking bay given that there was a very low chance of a shootout and it would make her stand out even more. The two longswords strapped to her back in a pair of black and white dyed leather sheathes were the most noticeable thing about her, other than the fact that she had brilliantly blue hair tied back into a ponytail.

Honestly, it was surprising that Tanya wasn't the person who stood out the most, with one of the individuals in the group being a Mandalorian and another being a droid of some sort standing among them. Just looking at the synthetic being caused a slight headache for Tanya, so she tried to avoid whatever amounted to eye contact with the creature. She had to assume that the quarian was in the same situation given her people's past.

"I have a personal ship that could likely fit all of us, it has cloaking capability but lacks weapons. It's essentially a scouting ship meant for researching wildlife on planets and the like but it would work if needed. I also second the question about why we were all gathered for such a simple task as you say, you would've needed to do quite a bit of digging to find my location and I'm assuming that's the same case for the other people here, am I right in that assumption?" Tanya spoke up with a hand raised, a tinge of tiredness in her voice from her long journey before she turned to the rest of the group. Her eyes again tried to avoid the mechanical being in the room that stood silently.

"My name is Tanya Arche by the way since we'll be working together," Tanya said with a partial bow to everyone in the room. Her vibrant way of addressing everyone really was like that of an old primitive knight of hundreds upon thousands of years ago, meaning she was either a really good impersonator with a historical hobby or she really did follow the same ideas and etiquette. There was a certain charisma to it that was different than the charisma of the other people in the group, but the difference was hard to determine. Her gaze was steady and calm, but the way she stared into the broker was like daggers and hellfire incarnate, her annoyance and some semblance of anger just beneath the surface. Her words were soft, but the look she had was that of a killer, that much was obvious.

 

[Nomad-22]

Arms crossed the Nelvaanian glared back at the broker in stone cold silence. If had not been the threat imposed on him he wouldn't be here now. The fact they would resort to such tactics instead of just hiring him made it clear to Vilkas that broker's superiors were vile. Suppressing a sigh Vilkas thought in reminder.

I'm no stranger to working for those who hold wretched hearts.

Both curious and wary, he spared a glance around all those assembled here beside him. He had never seen a Quarian before and found her clothing to be filled with art in his point of view. The metal one was the strangest of them all here he concluded. Despite its appearance Vilkas couldn't help wondering if a soul was trapped inside it. Then there was the armored man who had a warrior's bearing.

The T-visor helm made it clear to him that it was one of the Mandalorians he heard tales about unless this bearer looted the armor.

As a bounty hunter he worked some tasks with others before but not like this. Most of the time however, Vilkas preferred to work alone. Yet in this situation he had no say in the matter. The very thought of it caused the wolf-like humanoid to briefly gritted his teeth in absolute frustration. It was like he was a slave all over again.

The star people have so much yet never satisfied. Even a great Horax who hungers for flesh knows when to cease.

Admittedly he could tell the others were not pleased to be here either. That doesn't mean of course they can be fully trusted as far as he was concerned. Vilkas listened as one human spoke up, demanding answers. Silently he was relieved that he had to ask those questions himself. Speaking in Basic was a necessary burden but not one he enjoyed at all.

Subsequently another human, a woman with hair as blue as the sky, took her turn.

Raising an eyebrow in reaction, Vilkas was taken aback that this Tanya bothered to give a semi-bow to their group while introducing herself. Was it sincere or a means for later treachery? Vilkas hesitated for a moment until reminded of the threat against his kin. Dark eyes locked with Tanya's as the Nelvaanian finally gave a cautious nod.

"Vilkas…Bounty Hunter." He declared with a deep accent but offered nothing else.

@littlekreen @Noble Scion @The Wanderer @PolyesterH @Wiggin

 

[Noble Scion]

Everything in the entire universe seemed to be against her at this point, from her birthright of being one of the more despised races, to her misfortune since beginning her pilgrimage, though as meek as she was from being blackmailed, it didn't save Otto from receiving a mean glare from Ami's luminescent eyes as she'd enter the room as soon as she'd recognize him, already in a bad mood because of that ass of a turian. Here she'd been hoping for at least some sympathy from C-sec. Her hopes had been misplaced.

The rest of them were unfamiliar, but she was sure that the fact was going to change soon.

"Ami'Lana Nar Marin." The red and gold quarian would give, though apparently she was going to remain largely and bitterly silent throughout all their chatter. A 'everyone dislikes by nature me so I'm going to dislike everyone else' mentality, her arms crossed aside from her raising a hand up to her helmet to hold her head as a headache would rampage through her brain, just to make things worse, which only seemed to grow worse as she'd look at the blue-haired human, who almost seemed to be happy to be a part of this blackmailed team.

Ami couldn't repress a soft sigh of agitation. They were treating this like a job rather than coercion, the only saving grace is that she didn't need to speak up about asking for schematics given that the old human male had already had the sense to ask for them.

 

[littlekreen]

An experimental project had experimental parts that Sukarma didn't know how to fabricate yet. The essential portions could self-heal, but the modular parts didn't immerse well until she modified the parts that felt numb. More by intuition and luck managed to fix things though she avoided tinkering with the features that kept her alive. Something Cerberus in her head was jamming her just like it was her hyperdrive. Not that she could find the damn thing.

Constant white noise blared into her mind while working in her reactor compartment, looking for it. Engineers told her this was a side effect of the power generator. She didn't believe that for a second now that she had tracked down all the logging hardware she could find. That faint coherence was more voices shouting from being submerged in a sandstorm somewhere in her mind, but not from the metal and chips past the fiber lattice, and they were always there. They weren't her voices, that much she could tell. Still, she was never sure if they were her Cerberus torturers or something more dangerous. However, she had some damaged bioplastic network interfaces and weighed her options after hearing someone had one for sale on Citadel. It was too rare a technology to pass up. So she paid for transport off the station to the Citadel and was thankful they didn't care to talk much. Maybe she should have been more suspicious.

Their candor changed when she got dockside when the taxi dropped her off and immediately hauled ass even before getting his payment. The dock was empty and she was alone. Neither of these things bode well when the sandstorm started less indiscernible yelling to communicate than shouted warnings. The arc pistols were left at her sides when she saw the single messenger enter the dock. As a tactical program started running, many scenarios started playing out in her head. A thread of her intelligence that soon ran constantly as the whole of her grew more paranoid as the days went on at the station.

They apparently had made the connection between her and the ship docked away in a former merc station, she knew it was just a matter of time, but she'd hoped she could get the hyperdrive running before they did. Threatening her engineer, too, perhaps meant making a play to get her under their thumb instead of Cerberus getting her back. She didn't think the devil you know was better than the devil you don't. The emotionless faceplate of her armor stared down from the messenger momentarily, then gave a resigned nod. The jig was up -- some part of her was relieved and terrified at not having to or being able to hide.

She had to shut off the tactical assessment program to give her some peace as the sheer number of people she was around exploded. As the armed individuals arrived and gave her the pad, she looked through the extranet as small comms antennae peeked out from the slips in her hood. Downloading maps, bricking a neophyte hacker's unit with the brainlessness to dip into the honeypot server she set up, and inspecting the pad.

At the Turian's remark, Sukarma's faintly singsong voice said acridly though not at him specifically, "New ass, same as the old ass. Smells just as bad."

Through the faceplate, Sukarma looked at the others and made user profiles for each in her head. An actual Mandalorian would likely end up fighting at the front with her. They called her Mandalorian sometimes at the station since she didn't talk much because her vocal pattern was well-known at Cerberus. Not that it mattered anymore. Soothing comfort to the crew or some bastardous bullshit. The Quarian seemed to know the Mandalorian, for better or worse. Still, she'd heard good things about Quarian ship engineers treating their ship as a home instead of something to be owned and used up. Not like engineers at Cerberus that just ripped out metal and cut through organs even if it hurt her. The one with clothing about as modern and tailored as her own made the persistent castrophony in her head even louder as their gaze met. Gold eyes closed under her mask to break the contact as threads named that user profile 'Tanya Headarche.' The human reminded her of Cerberus, and she instinctively sidled away from him. He did demonstrate operations knowledge. If she was going on a mission with random mercs, she preferred to have someone who knew what fresh flavored suck they were walking into. The other Nelvaanian ... the sudden urge to pet the puppy came from a flash of the trauma of having to fetch her spaced pets with tractor beams when Cerberus found where she hid them.

Sukarma didn't feel like antagonizing the woman further and listened as the grey-haired human asked cogent questions. Old habits of deference that paranoia would not let die even if she knew why she was doing it. Hope wanted to stop hiding, but paranoia, intuition, and the concordant howl seemed to agree she shouldn't identify herself with clarity. At least as much as she could understand it.

It took an effort to restrain her voice before the covert woman. She identified herself by her role in a curt tone, "Heavy logistics specialist, frontal assault and retrieval. Is the ship intact?"

 

[The Wanderer]

Melissa is annoyed

"You were selected because the Boss doesn't want to send actually valuable resources." The look on her aged face was that of a woman who had seen too much and done too much to really be bothered with these questions. "As for the other questions. Seems the former Inquisitor has a ship you can use. Schematics will be uploaded to your pads, they will feature the layout of the ship but unfortunately the data on security may be outdated. Expect anything including outdated B1 Battle Droids. Hell, they could even have Geth on it." Her eyes seem to take on a hardened expression, fingers coming up to rub at her forehead to no doubt quell the headache she was getting.

Taking a puff of the stick, she inhaled deep before slowly exhaling a plume of smoke. Speaking once more. "Ship model is a hybrid Corellian design mixed with other ships, the crew that ran it hapdashed it with other ships, so imagine an eyesore of a ship." She finished with a sigh.

The Young Mandalorian after looking away after Ami had given him a glare would speak up with his introduction. "Otto Kadovah. Bounty Hunter." His voice was accented, the exact origin would be hard to place. His red poncho hiding his hands.

"Nice of you all to introduce yourselves to each other but from what I can remember, you have a job to do. I'd say take Tanya's ship but you'll need guns to defend your ship. So maybe Suki there can help out. Your choice." Melissa would say before she'd wave away the group. "Now get out, don't let the door clip your asses on the way out."
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The walk out of Presidium would be roughly uneventful, beyond the group getting a mixture of strange looks. Onlookers no doubt speaking all sorts of rumors. And those with keen eyes would notice they were being tailed by the Messengers from before at a distance. No doubt to make sure they wouldn't get any funny ideas about going off to alert the authorities about the shady tomfoolery they were involved in.

Eventually you'd find yourselves in the market hub of the Citadel. Some shops opening up that were closed during your individual walks onto the Citadel. In the shop selling some tech goods was a lanky human with a beanie. His skin was pale, too much for even someone who didn't get a lot of sun. A closer look would reveal that the man was no doubt suffering some form of blood disease as an IV system was set up behind the counter. He was at the moment dealing with a rude customer in the form of a Volus that was basically saying the vender was an idiot for saying the Volus was a scam artist trying to peddle shite tech. "Of course the human would be ignorant of superior tech. This is premium Pre-Empire Clone Wars gear. And in this condition would be very expensive."

Opposite him was a weapons and gear vendor. A disclaimer was above the door that read as. "Any weapons will have to remain inside of a secured box until you leave the station or if you have the proper permits. This is placed by C-Sec, blame them." Inside was a Krogan who looked like he had been through a blender. Scars adorning his scaley hide, facial burns revealing teeth and one blind eye.

And in the midst of the area was civilians milling about. Prospectful traders looking to sell their wares or in the case of a Rodian merchant. She was trying to get someone to transport some goods and sell them on their behalf. "I'll pay good credits! I'll even stoop to fifty percent for all sales!" Could be heard amidst the chattering that filled the air. Beside her were simple R2 Units that were hooked to a hover-pad filled with crates.

@Noble Scion @PolyesterH @Wiggin @Nomad-22 @littlekreen
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Otto
Otto would mostly stick with the group, though he was standing in what would be an innocuous spot. But to Ami, she would recognize the spot as where she had tackled Otto during his fledgling Bounty Hunting days. And with his helmet on, it was hard to discern his expression as he mulled over things. Mostly going down memory lane as he remembered how he felt being tackled and disarmed during a bounty hunt. He paid for both of their fines but he still felt embarrassed for losing a target.

Mostly over the fact that said bounty was disrupted by someone who said his poncho was a dress when they first met in their youth. He would realize soon that he was essentially staring over at Ami before he quickly changed where he was looking and take a sudden interest in looking over his gauntlets. Nothing too thorough, just idle motions.

 

[PolyesterH]

Dardall was rather negatively surprised at the fact he was working with a former Inquisitor, but he didn't let it show. After all, she had those swords. They probably meant something important, the fact she was still alive was proof enough that whatever she was doing worked. Another point in her favor, she was the only one who talked in relative detail. Overall, there didn't seem to be anyone that would greatly annoy him. It could be a lot worse. Before everyone leaves the room, he makes a statement.

"You will refer to me as Dardall. Don't talk about details or specializations about anything in public. We'll only talk about what ship we're taking and what gear we want until we get onto one of our ships. Got it?"

Not bothering to wait for a response, he leaves with the group.
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Upon arriving at the market, he quietly takes a seat and starts coding a bypass for a Corellian operating system. If they could get on and neutralize their ship weapons, they could take the cloaking ship and exfiltrate in relative safety. He hadn't need for anything at the moment. He had ammo and he wasn't exactly planning on getting in a fight. He had his droid which was saying something in binary again. Looking up, he saw it pointing at a part with its arm.

"For the last time R3, I'm not getting that for you. I have better things to spend credits on."

With a single flick, it points at the gear vendor. Specifically, their armor systems tailored for humans. They didn't even have to say anything. They were unfortunately right. Even if he was very clear he shouldn't fight, these people would drag him into it anyway. Getting up from his seat he approaches the Gear vendor. He speaks clearly, making direct eye contact with the Krogan.

"I'm in need of a suit for surviving in vacuum environments, and I'd like it to be armored. Generalized to deal with equal protection from bullet and blaster fire. What do you have along those lines?"

 

[littlekreen]

Sukarma tilted her head at the name, "Ah, uh, understood."

Sukarma heard her nickname used by the broker and canted her head in a mixture of emotions. Perturbed incredulity was what she stewed rather than fear as they left, she quickly realized. Though agreed with Dardall that they should keep quiet about their mission. Not that maintaining quiet seemed to have helped her. She was either one good deal from being sold to Cerberus, her name and work profile used on the station working for the outlaws was known, or considered expendable entirely by one or both. Should it be both of the latter, this would mean it had been pointless to hide anyway. The second was one step from the first. An uncertain state of not knowing which one it was told she couldn't afford to be very obvious, and she quietly fumed. Being here might even put her back on Cerberus' radar, if not that of Spectre. Old habits die hard, harsh training even more so, thus absently hid in her thoughts to follow Dardall through the market. At least she wasn't hunting for herself. That would be a special kind of hell.

The R3 gestured toward a part to hear Dardall rebuke the droid. She considered inquiring to the droid why directly, then momentarily remembered that she really shouldn't speak binary. Most of her credits had gone straight into repairing the damage to her aft where she hit the asteroid. That had taken ages, but it got done enough that she only missed half a crew quarters. She checked with the merchant as she had no bucket of credits to buy new armor or a different weapon anyway. It was most of what she still had, but she paid the merchant four hundred credits plus a fabricated vial of omni-gel from reserves. She could make more.

She returned to the droid as Darnell went to the armor vendor, knelt, offered the secondary battery, and quietly said from behind the mask, "Little ones should be allowed to grow. I can make wire if you need any."

 

[Wiggin]

The perceptive individuals within the group would be able to notice Tanya's hands twitch and tense up, almost as if she was about to draw a weapon. She didn't follow through with this action, however, but the glare she gave the information was more apparent at the mention of her past. It looked like some type of murderous intent flashed over her features before it faded into the normal neutrality that she was holding before. Whatever the case, any who caught it would be met with a sudden sense of dread for that momentary flash as if her malice had radiated out of her. A long sigh then announced the ending of the quick outburst. Whatever the case, she resisted its reappearance at the broker's comment once the crew had left the room.

Walking around the presidium itself, Tanya appeared to be trying to mask her amazement at the surroundings. She had clearly never been to the citadel before, only having been on specific operations as an inquisitor to a lower technology environment. Small colonies and the like on other planets seemed to be her familiar environment. Her eyes seemed to glaze over the weapons vendor, obviously not interested in any of the guns and other tools inside. A zero gravity suit sounded like a good idea, but she already had her armor back on her ship anyway which accounted for it. The armor might not be as up to spec against blaster fire, but it was enough to protect her from most types of ballistics to the point where she was fine with using it during any type of battle. "You can all gear up for the operation without me, I am going to tend to... another matter that's on my mind," Tanya said with her eyes glancing over to the side towards the volus, beginning to make her way towards the argument.

Leaning on the edge of the counter near the Volus with one arm, Tanya looked between them. She waited there a few moments to get the idea across she was there and then attempted to speak up. "Pre-empire clone wars gear eh? Are you sure you want to sell that for such an expensive price little man? You do know technology has moved on from those times and that that type of gear is somewhat defunct compared to today's armaments don't you? I'm sorry for butting in but I'm just having the most abysmal headache at the moment and would prefer if you two could solve your issues before it gets worse from your argument," She said, shooting a glare at the volus to try and intimidate him.

 

[Nomad-22]

They were expendable pawns. Vilkas resented it with a glare toward the broker but still kept silent. There is no point in resisting not with his people's lives on the line. Of course it is assuming those blackmailing him actually keep their word to leave Nelvaan alone. He had a sinking feeling they'd do it anyway.

Even so I can't risk that chance. But if those outworlders do commit treachery…

He closed his eyes and gritted his teeth in fury before calming down. Best to focus on the task at hand. Turning around he made for the exit without looking back.

______________________

With a cautious stride Vilkas made his way through the market. The earlier trip through the Presium had been uncomfortable to say the least and he was doing everything he could not to think about it. One of the messengers tailing didn't make that easy at all. Instead he looked around what to buy here while keeping a certain distance from the others.

Just because they seem to be similarly trapped like him doesn't mean Vilkas was trusting any of them right away. Time and action will tell. He was about to head for the gun vendor when spotting Dardall with a droid and Sukarma inside. Frustrated sigh came out of his mouth. Instead he stood alone away from the vendors and avoided looking at the people passing by or talking among themselves.

Instead his attention came upon the massive view of the station's other sections.

The fact that outworlders constructed this station and city wide worlds like Nar Shaddaa still mystify him. The latter is a wretched place in so many ways but here he too detached hints of corruption beneath the peaceful layer.

Still to see the stars despite everything that changes is a blessing.

The thought gave him, remembering as a child now he gazed at the heavens with wonder. In a w.

He could hear the Rodian merchant desperately trying to sell her wares. Vilkas considered it for a moment. For all he knew it's probably something illegal here that she's trying to get rid of if willing to be so generous. Or maybe it's fine by law but the Rodian could be trying to earn more credits quickly for some reason.

"Lehet, hogy csinál valamit." He said to himself. Getting extra credits could help pay for what he had in mind at the gun and gear shop.

All that in mind the towering Nelvaanian headed over to the Rodian's shop. Stopping meters away Vilkas asked, pointing at the crates.

"What is the…cargo?


@Noble Scion @The Wanderer @PolyesterH @littlekreen @Wiggin

 

[Noble Scion]

Ami would continue her silence, her glare flickering from Melissa to Otto, and then back, as they'd speak, before storming out of the room once they'd been 'dismissed'. Not eager to remain in the dingy backroom of some thug boss as she could practically feel the smoke clinging onto her suit.

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Unfortunately, her meandering as she'd try to figure out her way to 'Tanya's ship' led to her arriving at the market along with the rest of her group, and as much as fought against the though, she wanted to uphold at least some appearances as she'd bumble into it with barely a credit to her name, which once her debt was clear, she wouldn't have to worry about thankfully.

Though as she'd look at the shops available for her to feign browsing through, she'd notice that mandalorian glowering her way, the man's mandalorian helmet failing to hide his fidgeting as she'd whip her visor his way, only to have him look away, a sigh drifting from her as she'd decide to follow the most interesting conversation and leave the timid man to his shuffling, being the Volus and the vendor, now featuring the woman that seemed to give her a headache just to look at.

"She's right you know. That tech was only good for salvage metal and little more." Ami would pitch in as she'd approach, hopping in on the defense of the vendor, though she couldn't help but shine awkwardness through her body language at the prospect of talking considering how painful most conversations seemed to go when a quarian like her got involved, not that the volus had much of a better public opinion.

 

[PolyesterH]

Dardall stares forward after Sukarma's display. Having someone buy something for your droid is deeply embarrassing, possibly even dangerous. Of course, they weren't acting like someone trying to drive the droid away from them. They're probably trying to do something nice.

In a way it reminded him of the worker exercises the Empire liked to do where everyone would buy a coworker something. Everyone showed up in a good faith the first time, only to walk away severely disappointed when they learn the overworked and underpaid staff didn't have the energy to give them a worthwhile gift, Invariably it devolves into everyone passing around gift cards or credits in a silently agreed upon ritual, where people would drone on and on about what they could do with the money in order to buy as much time as humanly possible away from work. Of course management caught on and limited the sessions to 10 minutes. The last man would bet the one running the clock, a lamb of sacrifice who would give his voice to buy everyone else a much needed break.

He blinks, realizing he zoned out for a solid few seconds. He turns to Sukrama and speaks quietly.

"Thank you. R3 probably appreciates that a great deal"

The droid let out an excited blurb of thanks in binary.

Binary

"Thanks! Dardall's a cheapskate, hasn't bought a luxury in his life. He spends five times as much time crafting things he should be buying at the store than shopping."

Dardall knew the droid was probably making comments at his expense. The thought to buy a voice modulator so they could talk back crossed his mind many many times. However, the R3 would probably roll verbal circles around him. He sucked at fast talking and the droid had years of experience being with him to come up with something to get at him with. Meanwhile he didn't have anything bad to say about them. It'd be a lot easier if he wiped the memory like standard operating procedures suggest, but a large memory bank was good utility while he was on the run. Its memory saved him a good few times.

And frankly sifting through the things the droid should and shouldn't have was too much effort past passwords and basic information he absolutely can't let get out. He turns back to the Krogan.

He did, however, pay attention to the distant conversation about Clone War gear. A lot was antiquated, sure, but a lot of it was also good stuff. It wasn't that long ago and truth be told, some things really were done better back then. He was very keenly aware of that from experience. Tech in that department has been really stagnant, mostly because the people working on it were generally stupid. It went forward like molasses. Aesthetics sure didn't look very different. If he didn't have what he needed he'd consider getting that gear. It was definitely best not to comment on others statements until later.

 

[The Wanderer]

Dardall was rather negatively surprised at the fact he was working with a former Inquisitor, but he didn't let it show. After all, she had those swords. They probably meant something important, the fact she was still alive was proof enough that whatever she was doing worked. Another point in her favor, she was the only one who talked in relative detail. Overall, there didn't seem to be anyone that would greatly annoy him. It could be a lot worse. Before everyone leaves the room, he makes a statement.

"You will refer to me as Dardall. Don't talk about details or specializations about anything in public. We'll only talk about what ship we're taking and what gear we want until we get onto one of our ships. Got it?"

Not bothering to wait for a response, he leaves with the group.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Upon arriving at the market, he quietly takes a seat and starts coding a bypass for a Corellian operating system. If they could get on and neutralize their ship weapons, they could take the cloaking ship and exfiltrate in relative safety. He hadn't need for anything at the moment. He had ammo and he wasn't exactly planning on getting in a fight. He had his droid which was saying something in binary again. Looking up, he saw it pointing at a part with its arm.

"For the last time R3, I'm not getting that for you. I have better things to spend credits on."

With a single flick, it points at the gear vendor. Specifically, their armor systems tailored for humans. They didn't even have to say anything. They were unfortunately right. Even if he was very clear he shouldn't fight, these people would drag him into it anyway. Getting up from his seat he approaches the Gear vendor. He speaks clearly, making direct eye contact with the Krogan.

"I'm in need of a suit for surviving in vacuum environments, and I'd like it to be armored. Generalized to deal with equal protection from bullet and blaster fire. What do you have along those lines?"

The perceptive individuals within the group would be able to notice Tanya's hands twitch and tense up, almost as if she was about to draw a weapon. She didn't follow through with this action, however, but the glare she gave the information was more apparent at the mention of her past. It looked like some type of murderous intent flashed over her features before it faded into the normal neutrality that she was holding before. Whatever the case, any who caught it would be met with a sudden sense of dread for that momentary flash as if her malice had radiated out of her. A long sigh then announced the ending of the quick outburst. Whatever the case, she resisted its reappearance at the broker's comment once the crew had left the room.

Walking around the presidium itself, Tanya appeared to be trying to mask her amazement at the surroundings. She had clearly never been to the citadel before, only having been on specific operations as an inquisitor to a lower technology environment. Small colonies and the like on other planets seemed to be her familiar environment. Her eyes seemed to glaze over the weapons vendor, obviously not interested in any of the guns and other tools inside. A zero gravity suit sounded like a good idea, but she already had her armor back on her ship anyway which accounted for it. The armor might not be as up to spec against blaster fire, but it was enough to protect her from most types of ballistics to the point where she was fine with using it during any type of battle. "You can all gear up for the operation without me, I am going to tend to... another matter that's on my mind," Tanya said with her eyes glancing over to the side towards the volus, beginning to make her way towards the argument.

Leaning on the edge of the counter near the Volus with one arm, Tanya looked between them. She waited there a few moments to get the idea across she was there and then attempted to speak up. "Pre-empire clone wars gear eh? Are you sure you want to sell that for such an expensive price little man? You do know technology has moved on from those times and that that type of gear is somewhat defunct compared to today's armaments don't you? I'm sorry for butting in but I'm just having the most abysmal headache at the moment and would prefer if you two could solve your issues before it gets worse from your argument," She said, shooting a glare at the volus to try and intimidate him.

They were expendable pawns. Vilkas resented it with a glare toward the broker but still kept silent. There is no point in resisting not with his people's lives on the line. Of course it is assuming those blackmailing him actually keep their word to leave Nelvaan alone. He had a sinking feeling they'd do it anyway.

Even so I can't risk that chance. But if those outworlders do commit treachery…

He closed his eyes and gritted his teeth in fury before calming down. Best to focus on the task at hand. Turning around he made for the exit without looking back.

______________________

With a cautious stride Vilkas made his way through the market. The earlier trip through the Presium had been uncomfortable to say the least and he was doing everything he could not to think about it. One of the messengers tailing didn't make that easy at all. Instead he looked around what to buy here while keeping a certain distance from the others.

Just because they seem to be similarly trapped like him doesn't mean Vilkas was trusting any of them right away. Time and action will tell. He was about to head for the gun vendor when spotting Dardall with a droid and Sukarma inside. Frustrated sigh came out of his mouth. Instead he stood alone away from the vendors and avoided looking at the people passing by or talking among themselves.

Instead his attention came upon the massive view of the station's other sections.

The fact that outworlders constructed this station and city wide worlds like Nar Shaddaa still mystify him. The latter is a wretched place in so many ways but here he too detached hints of corruption beneath the peaceful layer.

Still to see the stars despite everything that changes is a blessing.

The thought gave him, remembering as a child now he gazed at the heavens with wonder. In a w.

He could hear the Rodian merchant desperately trying to sell her wares. Vilkas considered it for a moment. For all he knew it's probably something illegal here that she's trying to get rid of if willing to be so generous. Or maybe it's fine by law but the Rodian could be trying to earn more credits quickly for some reason.

"Lehet, hogy csinál valamit." He said to himself. Getting extra credits could help pay for what he had in mind at the gun and gear shop.

All that in mind the towering Nelvaanian headed over to the Rodian's shop. Stopping meters away Vilkas asked, pointing at the crates.

"What is the…cargo?


@Noble Scion @The Wanderer @PolyesterH @littlekreen @Wiggin

Ami would continue her silence, her glare flickering from Melissa to Otto, and then back, as they'd speak, before storming out of the room once they'd been 'dismissed'. Not eager to remain in the dingy backroom of some thug boss as she could practically feel the smoke clinging onto her suit.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

Unfortunately, her meandering as she'd try to figure out her way to 'Tanya's ship' led to her arriving at the market along with the rest of her group, and as much as fought against the though, she wanted to uphold at least some appearances as she'd bumble into it with barely a credit to her name, which once her debt was clear, she wouldn't have to worry about thankfully.

Though as she'd look at the shops available for her to feign browsing through, she'd notice that mandalorian glowering her way, the man's mandalorian helmet failing to hide his fidgeting as she'd whip her visor his way, only to have him look away, a sigh drifting from her as she'd decide to follow the most interesting conversation and leave the timid man to his shuffling, being the Volus and the vendor, now featuring the woman that seemed to give her a headache just to look at.

"She's right you know. That tech was only good for salvage metal and little more." Ami would pitch in as she'd approach, hopping in on the defense of the vendor, though she couldn't help but shine awkwardness through her body language at the prospect of talking considering how painful most conversations seemed to go when a quarian like her got involved, not that the volus had much of a better public opinion.

The Krogan grunted at Dardall, his one good eye looking him up and down before he spoke with a deep gravelly tone. The obvious electronic undertone indicating that the Krogan had taken damage to his vocal cords. "I think I got some suits in your size." Before he pressed a button which opened up a compartment, the veteran xeno would reach in and pull out three suits and helmets. Sprawling them over the counter, he would go over the three suits. "First is the lightest of the trio. It can take some hits from lighter blaster fire and kinetic weaponry but anything above a pistol is gonna punch through. But this is more modifiable, could even slap on something thicker for the chest. It also doesn't restrict your mobility as much in vacuum. Helmet's the same way, can modify to your hearts content but I wouldn't trust it to stop a peashooter but can hold up in a vaccuum." It looked like it could easily be worn under Dardall's clothes and could be upgraded to fit his preferences. Armor could be slotted or some tech pieces instead of armor if that was his plan. The helmet was a simple style helm with a visor that exposed the upper face behind duriglass.

"Second is a suit I got from an Asteroid Miner. It's thick in the suit so it can hold against kinetic rounds easy, and some medium arms energy weaponry. Unfortunately, not as modifiable nor really great to wear under clothes. Helmet has basic air seal and comms array with the thick armor. That's it." The suit looked to be bulky but no doubt protective compared to most suits, it did look rather unsightly with a nasty combination of chipped yellow paint around the armor segments and the brown undersuit but it was more meant to be functional than pleasant to look at. The helmet was the same way, bulky with a line visor to look out of. Almost like a wielders helmet.

"And lastly, I got a basic suit and EVA system helmet. But any armor is gonna have to be bought or added on elsewhere." The suit was a dull gray and the helmet was like the first one but mostly glass around the front so the wearer's face was on full display.

"First suit and helm is gonna run around a thousand. Second suit and that helm will be fifteen-hundred. And last suit with the helm will be five-hundred. I'll toss in a guide on how to modify the suit with the first one, free of charge." The Krogan scratched his scaled face, running a finger down a scar as he overheard the conversation as well but like Dardall, he didn't really comment beyond an annoyed huff while looking at the Volus in the other shop.
@littlekreen @PolyesterH
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The Volus was less than pleased at Tanya's input. "Bah! Typical Human, butting into a business deal between two-" The glare did throw him off but he was steadfast in his wanting to earn some credits.

"It is a nice piece of equipment. No one can really find Clone Wars tech in this nice of a condition." He stopped to suck in air through his suit as he glared back. The Vendor took his turn to chime in as he leaned on the counter to point a finger at the Volus.

"Bullshit, those systems are outdated. I could crack them using a busted R2 unit and a screwdriver." He said with a grin as he crossed his arm. This caused the Volus to fume but what caused him to even get more mad was when Ami had spoke up.

"You! You!" He sputtered, his grubby arms shaking slightly as he grabbed the box he had placed down. "Forget this, I'll go find somewhere else to sell that doesn't allow a thieving Quarian into its store." He would waddle out of the store, pushing past Ami and going out into the general area of the marketplace. Only turning back to shoot a glare their way before waddling out of sight.

The Merchant would scoff before looking to Tanya and Ami. "Thanks, gals. He always pops in after the junk crew peddles their wares and causes a ruckus." He chuckled mostly to himself before clearing his throat. "Looking to do some business? I'll toss in a discount for scaring that asshole off hopefully for good. I got some tech you may like or maybe if either of you want a droid, I got a couple in the back." He jabbed a thumb back towards a door. He did bring up a kiosk if they just wanted to browse. He sold upgrades to Omnitools and even special modules cooked up by him. The upgrades varied in price from a thousand to more with the modules being five-hundred a piece. But with the discount, the price could no doubt be knocked down a significant amount.

Otto would walk in a bit after the Volus had left, mostly sticking to the front of the store.

@Noble Scion @Wiggin

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The Rodian woman would let out a sigh of relief at Vilkas' approach.

"Finally, someone who can help me out." She said before she gestured to the boxes. "They're just simple mechanical parts. Sure they are basically spare parts for droids but I'm willing to do anything to get them off my hands. Just take them with you on a journey and sell wherever you can. I'm willing to do a fifty-fifty deal. You make the sales using this pad and half of what is made goes back to me. You keep the rest. Some of this stuff is rare so maybe you can even land big sales or something." She paused to catch her breath, her posture and tone said too much. She was desperate. She even added on. "You don't even have to pay me upfront. Just take 'em."

Her big eyes despite their blueish green color look to be wet with desperation.

@Nomad-22

 

[littlekreen]

Sukarma heard thoughts from the whispers sometimes. Tiny little things treading just above the undulating noise floor that tried to drown them. She'd gotten the hang of hearing after they shouted loud enough that she turned her metaphorical psyche to look at that part of her mind space. The Q-value of her reactor had never been this high while she'd been so far from her main body; the voices were just as much louder. It was the first time she could pick out a coherent thought among all this life and people. With a nod at R3 and thumbs up to Dardall, the reply did sound stilted.

As if she was listening to something, her head was tilted to one side, an organic instinct of trying to hear. Then looked to Dardall though glanced at the Krogan, and a voice not as computerized but an artful singsong in nature replied, "Of course. The strength of people should tend to their small ones without expecting a return. Someone who doesn't prudently tend to their allies is a predator, not a warrior."

Her focus returned to R3 with a reply that clearly had fully understood, "Even volcanos bother with flowers unless they're constantly under fire. I don't have much, but you're welcome to it, R3, if it gets you reserve power when we need it. I have a power and thermal spike for arc pistols if you need power or he needs to charge stuff while we're away."

Hand going up in a fist, she arced her wrist upward in a mock pistol position as a small electrum-tipped equipment umbilical shot from her wrist under the arm of her armor. It most definitely was not the same make as her improvised armor, nor were her heavily modified arc pistols. She retracted the spike soon after and fiddled with the slot it came from before snapping something attached to the back fabric into place on some mount underneath. She muttered, "Modern era, and I have to use buttons to connect things."

 

[Noble Scion]

The soft hiss of air would be heard coming from the quarian as she'd have to stop herself from hurling insults back at the volus, her body stiff as she'd weigh the pros and cons of what she could do, her hand unintentionally hovering over her predator pistol, before she'd eventually just let out a soft, agitated sigh as she'd mutter something under her breath.

"Damned greedy mole, bosh'tet.."

His words stung harder than he knew. She was trying her best to avoid thieving, even with her dire finances.

Though listening to the merchant, she'd lighten up a little bit, pausing momentarily as she'd see the Mandalorian creep into the store, but deciding to ignore him for the moment as she'd listen to the offer, raising a hand to start browsing through the omni-tool upgrades. She didn't have the time or resources to work on a droid, and she didn't want to risk losing it when she was off doing a mission when money was already so hard to come by, though the allure of technology would help take her mind of things.

 

[PolyesterH]

Dardall looks between the mining suit and the lightly armored but more modular system. He bounces a few ideas. Buying the cheaper one and some modifications, buying the more expensive one and making do with the armored system, or buying both for greater versatility. Versatility had merit, but a simple fact flashed through his mind. The priorities for safety were very simple.

Don't be there. Don't be detected. Don't be identified. Don't be hit. Don't be penetrated. Don't be killed. Like it or not armor was the last thing that would be utilized. That doesn't mean he should skimp on it, but prioritizing the inner segments when there was so much that had to go wrong before then was madness. If he was being shot at, it means that he failed to avoid detection, it means he failed to avoid being acquired, and it means he got hit. He was far better off ensuring that he was never hit in the first place. If for whatever reason the outside of the onion wasn't an option he could armor it up anyway.

The question was what augments he could get. Going with the theme, investing in longer range hacking capabilities and detection mitigation would be a good idea. He chose his next words carefully, making sure to sound perfectly legal.

"I'll take the lightly armored suit for thousand. What's your pricing for detection mitigation and remote connection/communication tech for this suit? Armor pricing would be nice to have as well."

R3 was quick a response back, giving a set of excited beeps.

Binary

"That sounds great, thank you!"

 

[littlekreen]

Sukarma pats R3 on the top, then stands back up and flexes the hand she secured the snap on to ensure it is comfortable and secure again. Well, as much as it had been, at least. She stood up and looked to Dardall, "One of the cheap ones that support comms multiplexing protocols is a good option, even if it's short-range. I've got one, and as long as the nic uses at least 128-bit addressing, the node wrangler is cheap to set up."

A widespread solution for corps with work crews was mesh networking topologies, individual devices that only shouted loud enough to be heard hundreds of meters away. That made them different animals to surveil at long range when chattering over each other, even if not encrypted, than those that reached tens of kilometers. Less power, less complicated antenna, and notably for the corporations, cheaper. Sold in crates at volume, they had a massive used market if one knew how to reset and configure them. It required a multiplexer server as a mesh herder though the biomechanoid could muster that fine even if she were asleep. More critical to Sukarma was that if she was going to bring them to her body, it was a network her mind navigated more readily to defend subconsciously.

She wasn't sure about the random individuals except that there were two engineers. What seemed decent ones and the Quarian, who she thought might empathize with a living ship. Someone had to figure out what the fuck was wrong with her hyperdrive, and she didn't trust anyone at the station she was on when she felt something was redacting thoughts in her head as it was. Point defense already fired earlier as someone tried to sneak through the ducts when memories stapled into her consciousness' timeline from very, very far away. A few low-energy rounds to the chest plate convinced them to leave, but it meant the ingress she used to get to her body unseen had been compromised, probably by whoever had to get around the bay to mine those fuel lines. Things would worsen there before they got better. This meant taking a chance to alter the situation when she was already discovered by someone who could and probably would sell the expendable one off once they were done with her. Something deep in her mind whispered that the shadow broker knew precisely who they were sending and what they were orchestrating. Sukarma just couldn't see the end goal, and that uncertain future terrified her.

"I can fill you in on our way to fix the cruiser. I'm going to check on the Quarian engineer. I heard shouting." She felt Dardall would be acute enough to discern some of the shadow operative's mention that 'Suki' had ship weapons, establish context for her body, and relate it to the others with only shuttles. Even if she hadn't told anyone her name, much less the nickname though that was the obvious shortened form, it wasn't the childhood nickname she liked. At least for as long as it took for Cerberus to discover a reason that the creator fell out of an airlock where she couldn't save them. No connections, no affection, just like all her pets. A damaged cruiser was probably a good reason to buy heavy-duty welding armor for a noise-heavy comms environment. If there was anything she learned from Cerberus, it was plausible deathability and to say as little as possible to set them off.

The expressionless mask turned away, leaving them with clumps of her boots as heavy as her thoughts. She parsed back to find where the Quarian had gone, though along the way looked to Vilkas over with the cargo caller. If he looked her way, she gave him a thumbs up as she logged his location, then turned to approach Ami and Headarche as she clumped behind a Volus as he left the store. She watched him glare at Ami and returned a low growl as he turned around, then scurried away. A slow pan about the shop told her that it was just a bunch of hot air in the yelling, so she peered to see what the merchant offered rather than interrupting them.

 

[Wiggin]

Tanya continued to stare the volus down the entire conversation until he left the store, glancing towards the quarian and then back at the volus when she arrived. She was quiet for a few moments as the merchant explained the regularity of the volus's appearances. Tanya simply shook her head at the annoying little bowling ball's behavior before replying. "Honestly been a long time since I've seen one of those guys, this whole thing made me remember why I don't like people like that," She said with a chuckle, limply gesturing at the door where the volus had left the store.

Her gaze looked back at the quarian once more, seemingly having sensed a momentary shift and idea in her thoughts that had been tossed off to the side. Tanya seemed to have been inspecting the quarian for one moment and then finally looked back at the mandalorian who had entered the store with them. The former inquisitor seemed to shrug off an idea for later, shelving it for a better location and situation. "Nice job," She simply said to Ami. The words seemed to have hidden a secret beneath them, having some other meaning and complimenting some other aspect of the situation besides giving the quarian a sense of comfort. The feeling itself didn't dwell too much as Tanya turned to the merchant. "Do you sell anything that would upgrade a VI in some ways? The current one I have is only good for glossary research information and was wondering what other things you'd have. My price range is around 700 credits if that helps put things into context," She explained, getting off the counter and standing more straight.

The VI would then chip in, the blue omni-tool on Tanya's wrist coming to life and explaining something in a synthetic and jumbled voice. It sounded somewhat like that of an old butler, having a slight British accent that came along with the information in a chipper tone.

"VI! Otherwise known as a virtual intelligence is a type of electronic service assistant that helps in various situations. Typically given restrictions as to avoid the catastrophes of things such as the geth. This model is able to provide a large array of information from the net and is great for analysis of minerals and strategic advise! Please let me know when-"
"Gabriel, please mute"
"Yes ma'am!"
and with that a click was heard as the omnitool was quickly shut off.
"My apologies" Tanya concluded with an awkward chuckle.

 

[Nomad-22]

Indeed Vilkas noticed the terror in the Rodian's eyes. The bounty hunter knew it more than he wished to. Besides, despite not being much off businessman, he knew this kind of deal was 'too convenient'. The alien wanted someone, anybody to get it off her hands.

What makes her frightened? There is more to her tale than she has shared.

His dark eyes narrowed in suspicion. One of the things he absolutely hated was being deceived. Lies were commonly practiced in this so-called modern society as they call it.

"Do not insult me with falsehoods! Why do you really want to get rid of these parts? What are they truly?"

If he is not satisfied with her answer Vilkas will leave without another word.

@The Wanderer @Noble Scion @PolyesterH @littlekreen @Wiggin