The Kuras Tetrarchy: Seek First the Kingdom

[Archangel]

OOC Thread

A Ryn ran a hand through his white hair as he stared down his opponent. The Ryn was still quite young for his life and experience, and his sabacc skills were second to none. He presently found himself in a cantina on the planet Corellia; the cantina was on Treasure Ship Row, and the locale was less pleasant than it had once been reputed to be.

His opponent was a human, of average height and build, and he was smoking a cigar, a grin breaking across his face. As lucky as the man was, his sabacc face was dreadful. He was unshaven, unkempt, and unclean - but only because his gun was bigger than the cantina manager's, or he would have been on the streets three days earlier.

To keep his opponent's mind occupied, and to help himself think, the Ryn played a little melody on his beak - softly, not loud enough to be overbearing or blatant, but plenty loud enough to break the stuffy silence that surrounded the table with the biggest Main and Sabacc Pots in the cantina - perhaps on the entire Row - that evening. The tension was thick enough to be cut with a blade, and though most would use music to remove that tension, it had the opposite effect - just like the Ryn planned. Instantly irritated, the human snarled, "Hey, Freyel, are you going to play or not?!"

Freyel smiled at the human, his tail coming up over his shoulder to press a button on the table. The droid dealer announced to the crowded room, "The turn is passed. Master Zach, your turn."

Zach slammed his hand down on a different button on the table, and the droid dealer announced, "The hand is called. Final bets, gentlebeings."

The human tossed in another two hundred credits. "You're going down, Ryn. I've got the best hand in the game!" he exclaimed across the table.

A terrible sabacc face, Freyel thought. His smile widened. "I wouldn't do that if I were you, Zach..." Aside from an angry glare, Zach kept his silence. Freyel met the two hundred credits and dropped all three of his cards into the Static Field: the Queen of Air and Darkness, an Ace of Sabers, and a ten of Coins - a Pure Sabacc. A gasp of surprise went up around the room.

The droid dealer remained silent for a moment, before asking, "Betting has now been completed." Much to the room's surprise, and much to Zach's dismay, the governing computer chip chose that precise moment to cause a Sabacc Shift. The human did not even have time to groan or whinge before the droid dealer continued, "Reveal your cards, gentlebeings."

Zach dropped the Evil One, a Master of Flasks, and a one of Staves onto the table, his face ashen. "My Idiot's Array!" he said finally. His glare gone, he just looked on in calm dejection.

Freyel grinned at him as the Ryn stood, collecting his winnings from both the Main Pot and the Sabacc Pot. "You don't play enough Sabacc, Zach. I can't help it that my people invented the game," he said. He winked at the still-gaunt human as he walked out of the gambling area of the cantina, leaving the crowds to their money-losing.

He sat at the bar, grinning at the young Twi'leki female that tended it. She wore a skimpy outfit, but it still left that little bit to the imagination. It had most males of nearly every species staring stupidly and forgetting their drinks. Freyel, on the other hand, spent a lot of time at that particular bar - besides, he preferred his own kind. He never associated romantically with anyone of another species. That also eased his job, which had him working closely with any number of species - members of both genders. He leaned across the bar, glancing both ways at the bottles stashed beneath it. "Uhh," he said, pretending to think.

The Twi'lek interrupted him before he could make the order he made every time he entered the bar: a Ruby Bliel. The non-alcoholic drink, often popular among children, was rarely stocked in bars; in fact, they had to order it special to keep Freyel happy. If Freyel the Ryn was not happy, the information industry in Coronet took a sudden downturn, and nobody was happy. "Your usual, maestro," she told him, more than a little exasperated at his childishness.

Freyel, however, was enjoying himself. He grinned cheekily. "Aw, c'mon, Sierra, you know you love me!" he teased her.

She stared at him, shaking her head until finally, a smile broke forth. "Yeah, Freyel, I do, but I still think you should have let me stay at the Raindrop. Coronet is no place for an upstanding girl like myself," she rejoined.

Freyel scoffed at that. "I told you, anywhere owned by people like that's not safe for you. Here, at least, you get all this pleasurable company and you don't have to worry about... well, you know... breathing down your neck. And they pay your more here, don't forget."

She rolled her eyes, flicking her lekku at him. "Only because they make me wear this. I much prefer my modesty," she replied.

Freyel chuckled. "Well," he said, "I can't argue there." She laughed, and Freyel was again - as always - reminded of music. Sierra Lyn was certainly a wonderful sentient, no matter what anyone said about her.

Freyel would have gone to his Ruby Bliel, but he was tapped on the shoulder by a large human. Preparing for trouble, Freyel put on his most charming smile and asked what the matter was.

Fortunately, there was no problem. The human, obviously slow-witted, replied, "Well, I heard that you Ryn knew lots of stuff, and I was wondering if you knew of a pilot that could take me and my buddy to the Kuras system."

Freyel frowned slightly; as he thought, he decided he might as well strike up a conversation. He glanced around, a confused expression on his face. "Where is, uh," he asked, "your buddy?"

The human pointed outside; he replied, "Oh, he's not in here. They don't like Cragmoloids taking up all this nice space, he said."

Freyel nodded with a smile as slight as his frown had been. "I see," he said, then paused another moment before answering the question asked of him, "Well, there aren't many good pilots in here, but there's this other cantina - just down the street a ways - called the Pilot's Corner. Big sign out front. You can't miss it. Most independent pilots hang out there."

The human bowed a bit and smiled. "Thank you," he said, "thank you very much."

Freyel waved him off, replying, "No problem!"

When the human - and more importantly, the Cragmoloid outside, always distrustful of subterfuge - had gone, Freyel turned back to Sierra. "Tell me, dear," he said to her, "What's in the Kuras System?"

She glanced at him, confused. "What's that, Freyel?" she asked.

"The Kuras System - Elrood Sector - what's there?" he repeated. She gave a how-should-I-know look and shrugged. Freyel thought a moment more, then downed his Ruby Bliel, slapped a few credits on the bar, and left without another word. His interest was piqued.

[Archangel]

While Freyel could have followed the travelers and asked them directly, he understood that direct sources are not always the best sources - besides, he enjoyed using the intricate spy network he had access to. The Ryn, collectively, knew everything - if a Ryn did not know it, it was not worth knowing, as Freyel was apt to say to his potential clients. After leaving the cantina and making his way out of Treasure Ship Row to the less seedy areas of Coronet, Freyel found a HoloNet terminal and hooked in his comlink.

He was instantly connected to a fellow spy, set up in the section of town devoted to the Ryn slums. Typically, spies as good as the Ryn would not deign to stay in slums, but most species looked down on the Ryn as worthless sentients, and they used that to their advantage - any detriment to their advantages was undesirable. No strength is greater than a converted weakness, Freyel was apt to say to his friends. The Ryn on the other end of the connection looked up from some datapad and smiled at Freyel. "What can I help you with, Frey?" the Ryn asked jovially.

"Freyel," the other corrected, as he always had to, "and I want to know everything there is to know about the Kuras system. Everything. Take your time, ask our compatriots, and get back to me - I'll have my comlink with me. Just comm when you've got the information."

The other Ryn nodded, saying, "Yeah, sure, gotcha. Comm when we've got it. Kuras system."

"Wern," Freyel said cautiously, "Everything."

Wern nodded again. "Yeah, everything! Gotcha, Freyel!"

Freyel nodded slowly. "Good," he replied finally, and disconnected the comlink from the terminal. He had other contacts, and he wanted, as he said to Wern, everything. He went to a more reputable cantina in a nice part of town - the hang-out of the Bothans, who prided themselves on being high-class spies. They were also the network normal people tended to use - that is, normal people that were completely unaware of the superiority of the Ryn spy network.

The Bothan he was looking for was one Dorson Fey'dri. Fey'dri was high up in the spy chain for the Bothans and he would know if there was something important going on in the Kuras system. He was sitting at the bar, sipping at an ale, when Freyel found him. The red-furred Bothan was short, even for his own kind, and his ears stuck out far enough to poke people that he passed on the street. When Freyel came him, those ears perked up and the Bothan turned around on his barstool, his face already contorted in a sneer. "Freyel," he said contemptuously.

Freyel grinned at his competitor. "Easy, Fey'dri - I'm here for information," he said. He was reaching for his credit chits even before the spy told him it would cost; everything from a Bothan spy cost creds. "I want to know everything you do about the Kuras System."

Fey'dri stopped moving; he stared up at the Ryn, not even moving for the credit chits held out to him. He shook his head slowly. It was his turn to reply, "Easy, Freyel." After a moment, he explained, "That's not something you want to get tangled up in - I don't care if it is just one of your crazy schemes that you're not even getting paid for... Lark will think one of his peers is trying to bring him down, and he won't stand for it. You'll get a bounty on your head, big time."

Freyel shrugged. "I've had a bounty on my head before," he started to say, but stopped mid-sentence at Fey'dri's concerned shake of his head, that reddish mane swishing back and forth nervously.

"Not like this, you haven't," Fey'dri replied. A moment of silence passed as the two stared at each other, Fey'dri's eyes betraying concern, and Freyel's betraying intense curiosity. Fey'dri rolled his eyes, sighing resignedly, as he said finally, "Okay, fine, I'll tell you - but you didn't hear this from me, understand? I'd hate to have Lark jumping down my neck. The system has just one star, Kuras, and four planets - aptly named Kuras Prime, Kuras II, Kuras III, and Kuras IV. Kuras Prime is a burnt, rocky wasteland - not worth the trouble. Kuras II is a desert - livable, but unpleasant. Kuras III is inhabited with a pair of primitive sapient species, so it's ruled out by most people. A tubby human crime lord - Breggar Lark - is expending vast amounts of resources and funding to build a base underground on Kuras IV, a frigid mirror of Kuras Prime's burnt surface." The Bothan glanced around conspiratorially before saying, "That's all I can tell you. Now get out of here, before people get suspicious." Fey'dri spun back around, returning to his drink.

Freyel left the cantina with his curiosity aroused rather than satiated.

[Archangel]

Six hours later, Wern had confirmed what Fey'dri had said regarding the Kuras system - and that Lark was paying even unskilled construction workers money to get out there. Apparently, this was important enough to waste money on even the lowlifes and the morons. Freyel sat down in his hotel room, pondering the situation. Chances were, if Fey'dri did not know it and Wern could not find out, then the only people who did know it were not talking. That meant either Lark paid big creds to see them silent or no one really knew but him.

Typically, Freyel would have waved it off as an arrogant crime lord's base - but something bugged him about it being on Kuras IV. First of all, with the planet's surface as it was, the base had to be underground, and that meant extra security and extra defense. Secondly, the Kuras System was a nothing system - only two inhabiting species, and both of them primitive; few would even consider them sentient. Plus, it had no trade value - while the Rimma Trade Route ran through the edge of the Elrood Sector, you would have to go through half a dozen systems and that nearly impenetrable dust cloud called the Drift just to get there. Even then, the Drift encompassed the Kuras System for most of its cycle, so its surfaces - especially Kuras Prime and Kuras IV - were rendered deadly to the unprepared being.

All of that combined together to create a very, very odd location for a base. Underground meant high security; a nothing-location meant that probability was low for someone to just stumble upon it; almost impossible to get to meant no clientele meetings... the list went on, and nothing but questions arose in Freyel's mind. He had to find out what Lark was doing there... but how? He could not just fly there - aside from the difficulty of the task itself, he had no ship - and if he did, it would be fired upon by Lark's men, surely. He could not hire someone - while he had the credits, he was not willing to waste them on a mercenary.

A knock at his door interrupted his thoughts. He rolled his eyes; he thought he had put a Do Not Disturb sign on the hotel room door. He readied his blaster and leaned against the door; he called, "Who is it?"

"Cleaning service, sir," a male voice replied, "Your label says you want your room cleaned."

That made no sense - he had set it to Do Not Disturb himself. Freyel keyed the pad on the inside of the door and checked its status; the cleaner was right, the door was labeled Please Clean. Freyel snorted to himself. "Well, I'm sorry," he said, "That's a mistake. It was supposed to say Do Not Disturb."

He turned back toward the bunk, where he was planning on getting some rest, but a whine from outside brought him back. "Aw, sir," the cleaner said, "I've gone and dragged all this stuff up here. Won't you just let me clean the place?"

Freyel sighed and rolled his eyes. "Alright," he said finally, "but make it quick." He went to the door and opened it. A man stood alone on the other side, but he was no cleaner - dressed in combat regalia, ionized plate armor from head to toe, with a blaster carbine out and at the ready. Freyel surmised that he was a bounty hunter, and the point was driven home when the man opened fire.

Freyel ducked behind the wall just in time, narrowly missing a burn hole and a few fried organs, served up with however many credits Lark was paying to get Freyel off the case. Freyel wondered vaguely who had tipped the old coot off and suspicions of Fey'dri entered his mind, but he had no time to consider the prospect. Freyel made sure his weapon was charged and as soon as there was a pause in the blaster fire from the enemy carbine, he popped around the door and opened up on his opponent.

He struck several hits, but they all fizzled out of existence as the bolts came into contact with the oddly shielded armor. This bounty hunter must have been high-dollar or a decent thief. When the man cursed and lunged at the Ryn, Freyel suspected the latter. The man was an idiot.

Freyel ducked, letting the bounty hunter leap clean over him. When the human landed roughly on the floor, Freyel slammed his head down hard with his tail, causing blood to spurt from the man's nose and onto the off-white carpet. A groan and a curse ensued as Freyel made his getaway, heading for the fire exit of the building. He slapped a fire alarm on his way, ducking into the stairwell. He had to create a panic, have too many people in the halls and in the way to allow any of the bounty hunter's doubtless associates - like the slicer that had hacked Freyel's door tag - to see him.

The fire alarm had the desired effect. There were far too many people for the shorter alien to be seen by his pursuers. He escaped into the night and made for the starport - with luck, he could find an old friend of his, and he would help him achieve what the Ryn alone could not.

[Archangel]

Freyel was out of Coronet, and not even on Corellia anymore; he had managed to gain passage to a small space station located near Duro, along the Corellian Trade Spine. The station, despite its small size, made a better trade hub for those who did not wish their goods to be confiscated than Corellia or Duro; while Corellia made the perfect hub for the area, at the intersection of the Corellian Trade Spine and the Corellian Run, Trade Spine Station allowed the more illicit goods to be passed out to the local planets, for a small intermediary's fee.

The last Freyel had heard - and that was about half an hour earlier - Arelim Seron was in charge of a run-down town for criminals and ne'er-do-wells who wanted to hide out from the law. Freyel keyed up the HoloNet terminal and set it to the appropriate frequencies, with the encryption codes he and Arelim had used for years; to Freyel's extensive knowledge, no one had been able to crack them.

The HoloNet terminal extended a visual and aural receptor, and Freyel began his message: "Arelim. I hope this message finds you well, wherever you are - but I need to change that, I'm afraid. I need your help on something - something pretty big. Meet me as soon as you can at Trade Spine Station; I'll be there in four days, and I'll stay for two - after that, if you haven't arrived, I'll leave a message with the local hotel, and move on. I can't risk being anywhere for too long. I hope you understand."

He knew the message would be very misleading to anyone apart from its intended recipient; Arelim would, first of all, know Freyel knew precisely where he was and what he was doing. He would also understand that Freyel was already at Trade Spine Station, and the human mercenary had four days before the Ryn spy high-tailed it out of there, without a trace. That also gave Freyel a few days to relax, in case anyone intercepted and actually did manage to crack the encryption... which was not entirely impossible, given the age of the codes.

He left the HoloNet terminal, taking his datapad with him; they were inseparable now, it seemed, and he was glad for it - it had all the information he could possibly need for himself, and plenty more otherwise. It contained every official encyclopedia and a few unofficial ones, and anything else he could glean from the Ryn spy network using encryption codes also on the datapad. He usually did not carry it on Corellia due to the high risk of being mugged by some lowlife down on his luck, but since he had gotten off the planet, he needed it once more. He returned to his hotel room and tried to get some rest... with luck, Arelim would be there soon.

[OoC: For Arelim's side of this message, see The Town of Protection!]

[Archangel]

Freyel sipped thoughtfully at his drink; spending one's free time on a criminal trade station meant there was very little enjoyable to do, and what there was involved drink and silence. He wondered absent-mindedly how anyone could stand to live on Trade Spine Station for very long, given the complete boredom he had acquired after just one day.

Part of him hoped Arelim would arrive soon and provide him with something to do; another part of him hoped Arelim would not arrive until a day or two later, letting Freyel relax for a short while longer; still another part wished Arelim would not arrive at all, given the Ryn spy the perfect chance to cut his losses and run, disappearing into the folds of the Galaxy without even the slightest trace.

That was certainly a possibility for him, and he had considered doing that regardless of what happened, but several things stopped him: first, he was still extremely curious about the Kuras system and Lark's plans for it; second, he knew that a man like Lark had the means to track down some of the most skilled shadow-dwellers, and that meant there were no guarantees that Freyel would be safe forever.

He took another sip at his drink. With luck, he could figure out just what was going on in the Kuras system; with luck, he would avoid capture or assassination by Lark's forces; with luck, he would escape scot-free and maybe even make a dent in the crime lord's system. But that was a lot of luck, and no matter how good he was at sabacc, he still lost once in a while.

As if to emphasize that point, something to his left caught that eye; two heavily armored individuals entered the space station's only bar, and they were wielding weapons fit to supply an army for a month. One was a Trandoshan, a typical bounty hunter, with a feral grin plastered onto his face, baring sharp, deadly teeth; the other was a Rodian, usually obsessed with hunting, his tapered snouth flickering with interest in the various patrons. Freyel curled his tail under his barstool and turned his back to the two bounty hunters; they were looking for someone, and he hoped it was not him.

* * * * *

The Trader's Delight left Hyperspace just outside of the Duro system, the Silent Scream not very far behind. When both ships had emerged into realspace, Arelim sent a comm message to the Zabrak bounty hunter, "Silent Scream, this is Trader's Delight; our goal is Trade Spine Station. I've got an old friend there in need of some help; he's being tracked by bounty hunters, and he's working against some new-fangled crime lord. Your assistance is appreciated."

Trade Spine Station was not particularly far from Duro, and while a microjump might save a great deal of time, it would make up for it in danger and complexity; it was definitely easier to travel by sublight engines for that short distance. Arelim set the course and throttle to full; it would not be much longer before he would be saving Freyel's hide from trouble... again.

[Jagtai]

Jag'Tai listened to the comm message. He grinned as he replied.

"Trade Spine Station, gotcha. And I ain't doing this because of your pretty eyes; I expect to be well paid."

It was a joke of course. While Jag'Tai was always looking for an opportunity to make some credits, he had enough money to be able to work for free if he chose to do so. The truth was that Jag'Tai had joined Arelim for the adventure; if he earned some credits along the way, he wouldn't object, but he - and, he hoped, Arelim - knew that he wasn't in it for the credits.

He set the course for Trade Spine Station, and pushed the throttle to maximum. The freighter accelerated...

[Archangel]

Trade Spine Station.

The very name gave Arelim a feeling of criminality, and just the temporary association with the station made him feel in need of a good scrub-down. Regardless, he had no choice about the location of his friend - and if things were going as smoothly as he hoped, Freyel would be in the bar and they could haul jets before anyone looking to collect showed up.

Except for one tiny detail which irritated Arelim to no end: things were not going as smoothly as the pirate had hoped. He and Jag'Tai had been paraded around the station by an overeager young smuggler - "young" meaning "teenage" and "smuggler" meaning "wannabe" - whose last stop, apparently, was the bar. Arelim had not intended to open that asteroid of space slugs; all he had asked was directions to the bar. It had been veritable ages since the pirate had been on Trade Spine Station, and his Zabrak compatriot had either never been or enjoyed watching Arelim be tormented by a teenager with an endless lung supply. The pirate found himself wondering how anyone could speak for so long without breathing and not suffocate.

At long last, they reached the bar, but even then, things were not going as smoothly as Arelim had been hoping: someone had beaten them to Freyel. The Ryn was nowhere in sight, but his handiwork was: a Rodian - obviously a bounty hunter by his dress and weaponry - lay dead, his bulbous left eye completely missing after a blast to the head, and by the looks of it, the guilty weapon was a hold-out blaster. Arelim knew Freyel typically carried a hold-out somewhere on him, and it was almost never found in a search. It had always made the pirate vaguely jealous.

The patrons in the bar almost looked as if nothing at all had happened; Arelim supposed it was a normal occurrence on Trade Spine Station to have shoot-outs in the bar, and he figured no 'tender had shouted, "No blasters!" when the fighting erupted. He probably just kept cleaning his glasses (except when Arelim glanced at some of the glasses on the bar, he doubted they had ever been cleaned). He tapped one patron on the shoulder, a scruffy-looking human male; the man was annoyed that his mascule wiles were being interrupted as he stood and faced the pirate squarely. Arelim glanced at his companion, an equally scruffy-looking woman, and not particularly attractive besides; the pirate suppressed a grimace.

Instead, he nodded at the dead Rodian; "What happened here?" he asked the man.

The man shrugged and replied, "Some Ryn being chased by that Rodian and his Trandoshan partner; I'd say, when they ran off, they were headed for the turbolifts. Those cargo areas in the lower sections of the station can be pretty nifty places to hide when you're being hunted." Arelim gestured his thanks, and the man sat back down, leaning toward his quarry once again.

Arelim turned to Jag'Tai; he smirked, "To the turbolifts, then?"

* * * * *

Freyel slowed his breathing; this was not the time to be giving away your position just because you had been running for a few minutes. These cargo areas were large and full of hiding nooks and crannies, but there were no people beyond Freyel and his hunter - the slightest noise would be heard by either of them as it echoed around the large chambers. To emphasize that, the continuous thud, thud of the heavy Trandoshan's steps resounded in the Ryn's ears.

The brute obviously held no respect for guile or secrecy; Freyel easily heard the Trandoshan's raspy voice call out, "You got my partner easssy enough, but I won't go down ssssso quickly! Come out and make thissss fassssster for bothhh of usssss!" The heavy accent implied that the Trandoshan had not known Basic quite as long as a decent bounty hunter should have, which also explained why he was not quite as experienced as a real bounty hunter would have been in the ways of actual hunting. Freyel used the sound of his voice to move further away and find another hiding spot.

Still, even with the Trandoshan's stupidity working against him, the ugly thug was right - Freyel could not kill the bounty hunter in a straight-on fight, and the Trandoshan's meaty hide was blocking the agile Ryn's path back to the turbolifts; there was no way he could escape without some sort of help, and he doubted anyone on this vapid station cared enough.

Freyel vainly wondered where in the Galaxy Arelim could possibly be.

[Jagtai]

Unlike Arelim, Jag'Tai thoroughly enjoyed the atmosphere of the station. He no longer bothered to use an alias, so he felt confident that most of the station knew he was there.

Being that Trade Spine Station was situated so far from Tatooine, he wasn't well known among the criminals, and as such could travel relatively unnoticed. Unfortunately, that also meant that he didn't know the station - he knew of it, yes, but he had never visited it.

He had contented himself to following Arelim, taking a slightly sadistic pleasure in Arelim growing more and more annoyed with the teenage 'tour guide'. Nevertheless, by the time they reached the bar, he was ready to leave. The station wasn't that interesting anyway.

He wore his black combat suit, as well as his two Kylan-3 heavy blaster pistols. He also carried his blaster carbine slung across his shoulder, as well as three unassuming canisters and additional magazines.

After conversing with a rather scruffy-looking person, Arelim turned to Jag'Tai; he smirked, "To the turbolifts, then?"

Jag'Tai nodded. "Lead on."

He made sure the carbine was in a position where he could easily get a hold of it, then followed Arelim...

[Archangel]

Arelim moved directly and purposefully to the turbolifts; at this point, there was no reason to be stealthy or sneaky - if Freyel was in trouble, he would need all the help he could get and immediately. The human pirate and his Zabrak compatriot entered the turbolift and set it toward the lower levels.

* * * * *

"Come out, come out wherever you are, little sssssspy," the Trandoshan reiterated for what must have been the tenth time in the last few minutes. Freyel almost rolled his eyes at the pitiable bounty hunter's lack of creativity. Even so, a lack of creativity did not imply a lack of ability - and from what Freyel had seen, the Trandoshan would kill him as soon as he figured out where the Ryn was hiding.

Desperation became Freyel's only option; without rescue, suicidal heroics became the order of the day. He might as well go down shooting.

* * * * *

The turbolift doors opened to reveal a dimly lit cargo area, filled to nigh overflowing with crates. Arelim glanced around and quickly caught sight of a Trandoshan's scaly skin. The creature spun as the door hissed open, raising its blaster rifle toward the two newcomers.

Deeper in the room, Freyel's hand firmly gripped around his hold-out blaster, he leapt from behind his hiding place to aim at his opponent. He saw Arelim and another sentient at the turbolift and, instinctively and to his own dismay, he exclaimed excitedly, "Arelim!"

The Trandoshan spun back around, taking aim at his prey, a wicked grin spreading across his reptilian snout. Arelim and Jag'Tai both raised their weapons and fired almost simultaneously; the Trandoshan went down, a pistol blast and a carbine blast in his back.

Arelim and Freyel both sighed shortly with relief; the two walked toward each other, chuckling lightly as they embraced in a brief hug. "Freyel," Arelim began, "this is--"

"Save introductions for later, Arelim," Freyel interrupted, glancing at Jag'Tai with a sense of unfounded recognition, "Get me back to your ship, and we can discuss all sorts of things from the safety of more reputable locations."

* * * * *

Kuras IV, Kuras System, Elrood Sector

"You've failed me again, Yerrix," Breggar Lark said menacingly. The crime lord's back was turned to the gold-furred canoid he addressed; Lark stared absentmindedly out the window of his office into the vast complex his funds were constructing for him. "I set you a mission, a simple mission, and you cannot help but screw it up."

Yerrix shivered, not from fear or nervousness, but from actual cold. Kuras IV was a dreadful world, frozen and broken on its surface and not much better beneath. The Nalron twitched his tapered snout at the rotund human's backside, briefly revealing the sharp teeth hidden in that calm face. He did not reply to his employer; this was not the first time Lark had berated him for a failure which was not his own, and Yerrix knew better than to interrupt.

"I do hope you have a good explanation, Yerrix, because I am tired of hearing your excuses. I want that spy dead, Yerrix - he knows something, and if anyone finds out about this place before its completion, it'll be your head!" Lark threatened as he spun on the unfortunate mercenary. "I know your people are better merchants that mercenaries, Yerrix, but that doesn't mean you can relax on the job - not when you're working for me! I want to know why that Ryn is still alive!"

With Lark paused and awaiting an answer, Yerrix finally began to speak. His voice was soft and low, giving it a hidden quality of strength which was conveyed with so much as a whisper. "The bounty hunters I hired," Yerrix explained, "were incompetent. That is my failing, and I will see to the Ryn's execution personally. I have no excuses for you, sir." The truth was that Yerrix had always responded in a similar way; Lark's exclamations of excuses and failings were in his own mind and were his way of taking all possible blame away from himself and placing it on his subordinates. Yerrix did not actually believe it was his failure at all which allowed the Ryn to survive, but he was always skilled at reading people - it was what supplied his people with an uncanny business savvy - and he knew Lark wanted his vanity played to. It was a trait which disgusted the mercenary to no end.

Lark nodded approvingly. "Very well, Yerrix - but I want this done in three days' time. If I hear another word about that spy, I'll have your dog's head on a spike for all to see!" He spun again, once more facing the ongoing work in the caves. "By the way," he said as Yerrix turned to leave, "Srein said my deed was in his possession; I want you to collect it before returning to me."

Yerrix nodded as walked out of the room, headed toward the base's hangar. First stop: Corellia and Srein's deed to Kuras IV; then, finding a Ryn spy named Freyel and handing him perhaps the largest bargaining chip anyone could have against Breggar Lark.

Back in the office, Lark keyed his comm unit. "Get me Zsissk Heik," he ordered.

[Jagtai]

After thoroughly searching the Trandoshan - much to the consternation of Freyel - Jag'Tai took the lead as the small group made their way towards the docks. It was a gesture of respect towards Arelim - the human had impressed him with his steady aim - rather than a security measure. With the bounty hunter in front, Arelim and Freyel could talk in private.

Jag'Tai had noticed the glimmer of recognition in the Ryn's eyes. He was sure that Freyel would be apprehensive around him for a while, at least until they got off Trade Spine Station. The Zabrak couldn't blame him - after all, he had just escaped two bounty hunters, only to run into another one; one exceedingly more accomplished than the ones he had escaped.

The group reached the docks unchallenged, and Jag'Tai led them to the bay where the Trader's Delight was docked. After closing the doors behind them, he turned to Arelim.

"What now?"

[Archangel]

"Mr. Vroenik," Freyel said as he walked toward the Trader's Delight, keeping his back to the Zabrak, "your impatience belies your trade. Relax for just a moment, if you will. I need time to think."

Arelim was somewhat surprised that Freyel knew Jag'Tai, but realized he should not have been; Freyel was in the business of information, and bounty hunters were among the top buyers of information - even if Jag'Tai had never used Ryn informants, they would have surely known of his use of anyone else. Rivalry between the Ryn and the Bothans tended to create a knowledge about the others' clients that many people within the same organization were unaware of. He waited, with his patience thinning quickly, as Freyel paced back and forth before the Delight.

Before Arelim could pose a question, Freyel began speaking as he moved back and forth between two points nervously: "Are there any listening devices in here?"

Arelim shook his head, some confusion on his face, and replied, "Uh, no, I don't think so."

Freyel paused his movement for a moment and glared at the human; he demanded, "Well, did you check?" When Arelim shook his head, the Ryn gestured toward the ship and stated, almost like an order, "Then do so." Once Arelim had disappeared up the ramp of the Corellian freighter, Freyel continued his pacing and turned his attention toward the bounty hunter. "I expect, Mr. Vroenik," he said, his voice once again more thoughtful than officious, "that you are not here to cash in on my head. While Lark may want me dead, he has not risked an exorbitant amount of money on the issue, so I imagine it has not attracted your attention at all - or the attention of anyone else of great import."

At this he was silent; he did not make it clear that he wanted a response - in fact, it looked rather like he had forgotten Jag'Tai existed at all - instead continuing his pacing at an inordinate rate, occasionally scratching the fur on his head or swishing his tail dramatically. His thoughts were traveling, planning, trying to find some way to gain understanding of Lark's operation on Kuras IV.

[Jagtai]

Jag'Tai smiled wickedly.

"Don't worry, Ryn, if I was here for the bounty on your head, you wouldn't be pacing the floor right now." His features turned neutral again. "Arelim earned my trust. I'm just along for the ride - not to mention the extra firepower."

Spies are all the same he thought, as he rubbed a spot of oil from his carbine. They've seen so many conspiracies that all they can see are conspiracies.

While Freyel was thinking, Jag'Tai checked the bay doors again, and looked about for security holocams. The door was locked, and the bay was devoid of security holocams. Apparently these bays were used for illicit dealings, otherwise there would have been holocams. Jag'Tai silently decided to visit this place again...

[Archangel]

Freyel shot a glare at the bounty hunter, but maintained his silence. He continued his pacing, trying to formulate a plan with what little time and information he had. His mind covered every topic he could think of - blaster tech, starship companies, independent governments, Corellian political parties, Sabacc cards--

Sabacc. That caught his attention. He pulled out his datapad - the compendium of all knowledge, as he would occasionally refer to it - and searched for Breggar Lark. He skimmed over the brief file, but he was not looking for personality traits or historical details.

There it was: criminal record. There was not much, and Freyel suspected that Lark had committed much, much more than was shown with such brevity, but it held one key point: robbery of a gambling establishment. Freyel had noted it before, when he was reading that file a few days earlier, but it had not quite clicked in his mind as the key to taking over Lark's operation. He punched up the details on the robbery. Armed, dangerous, accompanied... no, no, no! Where was it?

Ah! There it was: reason for robbery. Investigations indicated that Breggar Lark was a compulsive gambler...

The datapad suddenly beeped alarmingly. Freyel brought up the messaging center on the 'pad and opened the call; it was, to the Ryn's surprise, Dorson Fey'dri.

The red-furred Bothan looked almost pleased. The feeling was contagious, and Freyel instantly wanted to know what the spy had chanced upon - for that was all it could have been, since the other was a Bothan. "Freyel," Fey'dri said, "I've discovered something I think you'll be pleased with. A Nalron mercenary, working for Breggar Lark, has just now - in fact, twenty-two standard minutes ago - picked up the official deed to Kuras IV from Korreil Srein on Corellia. Information seems to indicate that this Nalron is grieved against Lark for maltreatment."

Freyel grinned now, widely. "Thanks a heap, Dorson. You've been a great help. When I'm King of Kuras, I'll be sure to send some trade your way," he quipped.

The Bothan chuckled lightly. "Thank my superiors in the Muir Corporation, Freyel. I've told them your situation, and they agree that Breggar Lark controlling that much space is a bad thing. If you need anything, just let me know and I'll let them know. In fact... I believe they said they might be sending someone your way already," he added with a wink, "So look out for a helping hand."

Freyel grinned, thanked the Bothan, and cut the link. They would not need Lark's gambling addiction now, but that could turn up useful in the future...

Arelim came back down the ramp and shook his head at the Ryn; ship sensors indicated there were no listening devices in close proximity to the hangar. Arelim noticed the look of glee on the spy's face, and he asked, "What?"

Freyel's grin only widened. "Arelim, my friend," he said, "I believe we may have our ticket to royalty."

[Mir]

Trade Spine Station was frequented by Muir Corporation freighters and transports. Those freighters and transports needed protection. Though the Spine was a regimented and well protected avenue of trade and traffic, it was common for some pirate gang to get lucky from time to time. It was the same argument a gambler used at the slots. He couldn’t lose all the time, and when he won, he would win big. Speaking of gamblers…

Mun Kas’ik-Muir’s mind was taken away from his musing and brought back to the world before him. He stood on the bridge of an Excalibur-class Cruiser, the Purveyor. Before him was the station. But his mind had shifted from the station and convoy’s need for protection to the task at hand. He had been given all the information available on the task at hand. Breggar Lark, compulsive gambler, and currently on the “wanted” list of the House of Muir. One didn’t get on their easily, but one got off it quickly and disappeared into obscurity soon after. One might get rediscovered the next spring from the bottom of a river, or next month in the sewers, but that was out of the House’s hands. It was in Lady Luck’s hands.

He watched as the captain of the ship, a human from Eriadu organized the Muir Corporation freighters and transport traffic to make the job easier on the TSS’ crew. Make them happy, and you’re made happy. It was a fact of life. Mun waited until he was done. The black furred Bothan turned to the captain. “Captain Mokti, you know what to do.” The man nodded in reply. Mun turned and headed off the bridge towards the Lambda-class Shuttle that awaited him in the hangar bay. Mokti’s orders were to remain in system and provide whatever assistance Mun asked for, to the letter.

In a few circles, the little known Kuras System’s popularity was heating up.

OOC: Sorry its so late

[Archangel]

[OOC: 'S okay, I've been all over the place. I'll get a post up as soon as possible, but I'm out for another week, so it could be a while. ]

[Archangel]

Arelim took the statement with a grain of salt; it was his way, and Freyel knew it, so neither sentient was at all offended when the human neglected to obtain the excitement the Ryn already expressed. Arelim turned to Jag'Tai: "Mr. Vroenik, if you want to return to your ship, now is the time. I think we ought to get off this station before Lark decides to come after us in force."

When Jag'Tai had gone, Arelim led Freyel up the ramp into the Trader's Delight. The spy admired the cleanliness and sense of newness that the aging YT-2000 probably did not have when it was new. The pirate was certainly proud of his ship, and Freyel chuckled at that. Somehow, Arelim had always managed to get that same ship in heaps of trouble before he cleared his name.

Arelim heard the chuckle, but paid it no heed; Freyel was constantly finding things about life to chuckle at, and the human did not know if that was a good thing or not. It seemed to be, since the Ryn never appeared forlorn, but it also meant that he was not quite as serious as Arelim would like.

The Delight launched without trouble or hindrance from the station authorities. Arelim was hoping it would all be smooth sailing until he saw a large ship off the starboard bow. He did not recognize it, but Freyel did; the Ryn said, almost exuberant, "That's an Excalibur-class cruiser! They must be the ones Fey'dri was talking about!" He shot his hand out toward the comm system, but Arelim stayed that hand.

"Easy, Freyel," the pirate warned, "Don't jump to any conclusions. If they're for us, let them contact us - if they're not, I'd rather not give them visual records of how we look right now." Freyel rolled his eyes, but acquiesced; even so, the Muir were Bothans - chances were, they already had visual records of how Arelim and Freyel looked right then.

Arelim contacted Jag'Tai, on his Silent Scream, "Silent Scream, this is Trader's Delight... Jag'Tai, we either have trouble or help here, stay alert."

[Jagtai]

"Roger that, Trader's Delight".

Jag'Tai brought the freighter in line with the Trader's Delight. Ordering his computer to calculate a target resolution on the cruiser - just in case - he awaited what would come next...

[Mir]

Mun never made it to the shuttle. Before he got on the turbolift, Mokti had called him back to the bridge on the comm system. He had wondered what was going on, but when he got there, he realized the situation already.

"Captain?"

"Two freighters have pulled theirselves away from normal traffic. One is registered as the Trader's Delight, and the other has a general scramble code on it." Mokti looked to another Bothan on deck who handed him a piece of flimsi. "Silent Scream. Interestingly, that on has brought up a passive target lock on us." Mun smiled. He knew who owned the Scream, and why the person had brought up the lock. He also knew who owned the other freighter.

Fey'dri had mentioned two others with the Ryn, but not who, until Mun had "specifically" asked. It was them alright.

"Open a communication's channel with the Delight, and open it up for the Scream as well." Mokti nodded and gave the order. The Muir waited for a moment, before speaking. "This is Mun Kas'ik-Muir, on behalf of the House of Muir. I need to know if a Ryn by the name of Freyel is onboard either of your two craft. I was sent here to meet with him."


OOC: Arch, it's got to be a Muir-affiliated Excalibur-class, cause only Muir makes em, and doesn't sell them. But you didn't know, so no worries.

[Archangel]

[OOC: Mir, I have no idea what you're talking about with that cruiser affiliation, I... I really don't. ]

From long experience, Freyel deferred to Arelim when it came to vessels, so he neglected from leaping forward to respond to the comm personally. He watched Arelim intently as the human responded, "This is Captain Arelim Seron of the Trader's Delight; I've got the fun-loving little Ryn right here. Still, the space around Trade Spine Station's probably not the best meeting point; do you have any suggestions for a more secure location?"

Freyel nodded his agreement; sending a bounty-laden voice out on regular comm channels would probably attract the attention of anyone who was looking - and any of Breggar Lark's people would be looking.

* * * * *

As if on cue, Yerrix leaned back and cursed to himself; he had been scanning public channels for mention of the Ryn and had finally found him - only to be thwarted by the secure mind of Arelim Seron. The Nalron dare not risk communicating directly, because both his ship and his record indicated he worked for Lark, and they might shoot him as soon as speak to him.

But with a deed and a traitorous plan in tow, being destroyed was the least of his worries. He sent an inactive message to the Trader's Delight to be delivered in three hours' time via the HoloNet. That would give Yerrix time to acquire some more weaponry should Lark discover his betrayal as well as put some space between the Nalron and Seron's guns should the human pirate not find him trustworthy.

Yerrix leapt to Hyperspace, headed to a nice, crowded moon where even the most famous of people could disappear.

[Mir]

OOC: I know you don't, Arch.


IC:
So, they're not stupid and the file wasn't exaggerated. This could be fun. Mun's eyes had a sparkle of mischief and excitement in them.

"Captain, give them the coordinates of one of our relay systems. Closest one to here will do."

"Very well." Mokti wasn't pleased but he didn't really have a choice. The information was sent.

"Trader's Delight a location is being transmitted to you as we speak." The location was in a basic but older code form, one that hadn't been corrupted into others by bored coders over the years. Mun was sure that Freyel would be able to break it. The Ryn species tried to claim that they were more knowledgable of knowledge than the Muir. Here was a chance to prove it.

OOC: Yes, I know the redundancy. Of Knowledge and of the OOC.

[Archangel]

"Acknowledged, Muir," Arelim replied, not entirely sure of the designation he had just used for the other vessel, but assuming it would be taken with a grain of salt. He input the coordinates directly into the nav computer, which quickly plotted a course. "Course laid in and ready to launch, Muir. See you at the rendezvous. Delight out."

Arelim glanced at Freyel warily; he was not sure if he could trust the Muir that much, but surely they were not working for Lark himself, and the bounty was hardly large enough to attract an entire government's attention. It seemed prudent to seek someone's help in dire times. Freyel smirked his agreement to the sentiment; there was no telepathy involved, but both knew caution as if it were tattooed on their eyes.

Arelim opened a channel solely to the Silent Scream. "Delight to Scream - I think we can trust these, but act with caution. Of course, I don't doubt you already knew that. You should have those coordinates they sent us. See you there. Delight out."

He nodded to Freyel, who pressed a button on the pilot's console: the ship launched into Hyperspace; it might be a short trip, but it was safer than traveling by sublight when there was practically a bulls-eye painted on the hull.

[OoC: The actual location of the... erm... location... would be useful, Mir. ]

[Mir]

OOC: Just a an uninhabited system that Muir knows of and uses for ship jumps. Nothing special and doesn't have a name. I'll let you handle the reversion stuff and then I'll jump in.

[Archangel]

The jump was, indeed, quite short. Reversion was simple and unhindered. The system was uninhabited and empty; it was probably just a Hyperspace routing system for the Muir or perhaps a relay point to lose pursuers. Arelim glanced at Freyel; the Ryn was fidgeting with the end of his tail. Arelim had not spent all that much time with the spy, but it did not take long to learn that such an action from the quirky Ryn was a mixture of eagerness, anxiety, and planning.

Even if Arelim could not tell, and even if it seemed like everything was getting very complicated in this sudden and secret war on Breggar Lark, Freyel knew exactly what he was doing.

[OOC: That is to say, Freyel knows, but I'm still working on it. ]

[Mir]

"Trader's Delight, we've got two airlocks prepared, one for you and one for the Silent Scream. We'll conduct the meeting onboard the Purveyor. Is that satisfactory?"


OOC: My apologies. I completely forgot about this thread. I'm having a hard time getting all of the ones I'm in up and running again.

[Archangel]

[OOC: It's alright. I've been busy, anyway.]

"Acknowledged, Purveyor," Arelim replied as he began lining up the Delight to dock with the larger ship. "Scream, this is Trader's Delight - the chaps in charge want to meet on their ship, and they've got airlocks prepped for both of us. I'm going along with it, but if you'd rather watch from out here, feel free."

The Delight slid in smoothly to the airlock, where Arelim listened to the distinctive sound of sealing the ships together. The human turned to Freyel and grinned, who nodded and unbuckled his harness. The two strode to the airlock and entered it. A gentle hissing indicated the transfer of atmosphere while they waited for the other door to open.

Freyel glanced at his friend; he wondered just how friendly the Muir were going to be here.

[Jagtai]

Onboard the Scream, Jag'Tai grinned. If the Muir betrayed him, they'd regret it.

He opened a channel to Trader's Delight:

"Acknowledged, Trader's Delight. Thanks, but I'll join you onboard the ship. Silent Scream out."

A minute later, the freighter attached itself to the airlock. The bounty hunter activated a few programmes, donned his twin Kylan-3 blaster pistols, and entered the airlock...

[Mir]

There were only a handful of armored SpecOps soldiers at the airlock for Arelim and Freyel. Though Arelim was dangerous, and Freyel was too in his own way, it was considered that five hardened soldiers of war could deal with them. The amount of soldiers at Jag'tai's airlock....showed who could cause more damage in the immediate viscinity(sp?). A total of twelve soldiers stood ready.

Once the atmosphere had been transfered, the bounty hunter was enabled access to the ship. From there, he was escorted to the bridge. On the way, his group linked up with Arelim and Freyel's group. At that time, the number of soldiers dropped from seventeen, to eight. These eight finished the escort job to the bridge.

Mun turned from his position on the right hand side of Mokti. He extended his hand to Arelim and then to the other two in turn. "Greetings. I am Mun Kas'ik-Muir. We have much to discuss."

[Archangel]

"Indeed we do," Freyel replied, taking command point from Arelim. While the pirate had combative superiority, when it came to negotiations and discussions, Freyel was by far the most qualified. Instead of waiting for acknowledgment from the dark-furred Bothan, he leapt straight in: "Breggar Lark has his guns out for me, but I'm not the big target. He's up to something, and I need to find out what - and I'm sure the Muir would be happy with that knowledge, too. Here's my thinking: he sets up a base on Kuras IV, from which he can reach Loris, the WSC, the URF, the Sword Worlds Alliance, and plenty of New Republic planets besides. With the amount of traffic that's going to be floating around through there, it will be his best bet for piracy and looting - but here's what I don't get: he's going to make way too many enemies to keep at bay on his own. That means he's either got something up his sleeve that nobody knows about or he's got allies in something big. Maybe both.

"Now, as I understand it, there's a nebula in the Elrood Sector called the Drift - this cloud separates the Kuras System from the rest of the Elrood Sector, as well as from the Rimma Trade Route. That mean's Lark's either going to have a route through the Drift or he's willing to go around - and he can probably set up his defenses to surround his own planet and cover almost every entry point into the Kuras System, assuming he has enough ships... but I still think he might have allies somewhere that we don't know about." He paused for a second, his thoughts covering all possibilities; the Empire had few, if any, friends in that area of space, and they might help Lark out if it meant getting an edge against the New Republic and the smaller governments... but it seemed unlike the Empire to take such a sudden interest in the area, especially with this new alien threat from the Outer Rim. No one else was coming to mind, unless another government in that area wanted to grow and would use pirates to do so. "Any ideas?" the Ryn asked finally, hoping the Muir had something.

If not, he might have to send Arelim to "join" Lark's organization. That might very well be the only way to get the information they needed.

* * * * *

Nar Shaddaa. A moon, covered in a city, sitting in Hutt Space as if the Hutts had put it there in the time of their Empire, just so their slaves could have a place to live. If that was the case, things had not improved much - in fact, they had probably gotten worse.

Luckily for Yerrix, he was not staying long; as a matter of fact, he was on his way back to the starport, a crate of weaponry in tow. He still muttered curses against Lark for not sending one of his numerous ships; Yerrix had to do all his traveling via the public channels, and that was hardly safe - especially now that he was dragging around enough weapons to supply a CR-90's security detail. Still, he was glad he had old friends in some of these starports - it let him get by with almost anything.

The Nalron reached the starport, pulling the weapons crate on the hoversled behind him, feeling like he had accomplished the task too easily - maybe Lark was finally beginning to trust a little bit... to his own downfall, if such was the case.

Then again, Yerrix thought when he saw four Trandoshans headed his way, maybe not. "Zsissk Heik," Yerrix greeted the leader with a smile, "So glad you could join me. I could use the backup, and the ship."

"We're not here to help you, dog," the Trandoshan hissed, removing the smile from Yerrix's face, "We're here to assssk what you're doing on Nar Ssshhhaddaa."

Yerrix tried to refrain from swallowing visibly; they were onto him, he knew, but maybe he could bluff his way out of it. "Well, I got Mr. Lark's deed from Srein and then started my hunt for that blasted spy. That led me here, only to find that the bugger had been transported off by some pirate - and I figured, since I'm here, I might as well pick up one of these shipments Mr. Lark's been asking about."

Heik cackled at that. His fellows joined in, and not to be outdone, Yerrix began to laugh as well, a short barking sound that many might find irritating. When Heik silenced his quartet with a wave of his claw, Yerrix trailed off nervously. "My information indicatesss that the sssssspy wassss never on Nar Sssshhaddaa - and I know for a fact that Breggar hasssssn't been asssssking for any ssssshhipmentsss." The Trandoshan's heavy accent could be heard throughout the room and people began to move away from the five sentients - anyone could tell something bad was about to happen. Heik leaned in, his snout inches away from Yerrix's own, and said, "Ssssso... what'ssss in the crate?"

Yerrix's own clawed hands slid down to the control console, tapping in the open code. "Well, it's a shipment of garments for the construction personnel, you see - well, take a look for yourself." The Nalronian mercenary moved around the crate to the other side, putting the crate between him and the Trandoshans, who stepped in closer to look at the contents. The lid slid into the sides of the container, revealing a selection of blasters and blades - and even a vibro-ax or two. Yerrix grabbed a light repeating blaster from the top of the pile and leveled it at the Trandoshans, opening fire.

Heik went down to a shot in the gut, only wounded; one of his associates got hit four times in the chest, his natural armor not saving him from the killing blows. The other two slavers drew their pistols one managing to get a shot off before Yerrix had taken them down. As the fourth Trandoshan fell, the repeating blaster clicked repeatedly, indicating an empty power cell. Heik rose to his feet, grimacing and hissing from the pain of the gut wound.

The Trandoshan smiled as he watched Nalronian blood spill down Yerrix's shoulder. Yerrix swallowed audibly as the slaver leader drew his own weapon and pointed it at the mercenary. "Too bad, dog," the Trandoshan said with a toothy grin. Yerrix closed his eyes and waited for the end to come.

[Mir]

IC: Mun thought for a moment. A few moments really. "I don't think its the Empire. They're losing too many systems and territory to be concerned with a small area of space that's close to Loris, seeing as they had problems with Loris in the recent past." Mun stepped over to the navigation officer's console and set up a holomap of the area in question. He turned back to the three of them. "I think that he's working on his own, trying to keep a low key until his defenses are set up on all sides. But that's his weakness. We can get in good graces with Lark and move in on him, after finding out all points of his plan. Arelim, with his pirate background, can work within his organization, while Muir Corporation and the House of Muir can work our way into his organization through our means. We can cuthroat his suppliers into submission if you want. Last option is move in with force, using this ship, and possibly others. Its up to you."

[Archangel]

Freyel nodded, his lips pursed in thought. He glanced at Arelim, but knew instantly that he did not have to; the pirate trusted him enough to follow whatever plan he came up with. Freyel grinned cheekily at the Bothan and replied, "I think that would work quite smoothly. No one's reported in to Lark about Arelim yet, so I'm sure he could slip right in without setting off any alarm bells. As for the Muir... well, I know you have your own means of entrance into many different locations, and I would appreciate that assistance."

His thoughts traveled halfway across the Galaxy, to the Elrood Sector. "Chances are," he commented, "he'll have to create a deed for the planet, if he hasn't already. We should probably check our sources to see if anyone's seen or heard anything about that. Otherwise, I think we should move forward with this plan of infiltration - and, if necessary, invasion."

[Mir]

Mun nodded. "I'll check on it right away. But there is one thing that I wish to know. What do each of you wish to gain out of this? There is a lot of power and money that can be generated with control of a system, especially one like Kuras. All of us here want something out of this. What do you want, Freyel? And what of you Arelim? I don't see why the infamous Jag'Tai would be here, so I peg him down with being with one of you. No offense, Mr. Vroenik, but you probably could figure out a plan to take over Lark's operation on your own, and succeed rather well."

[Archangel]

Freyel shrugged lightly. "For me, it's a matter of curiosity. Understanding the minds of others - criminal or otherwise - has been something of a hobby of mine for years. If more comes of it - so be it. I don't know how well I'd do leading a planet," he added with a chuckle, "but if there seems to be something like that going on, I'd put my best foot forward. I'm only an intellectual, after all."

Arelim made a slight shrugging gesture. "I hadn't really thought about it all that much, to be honest," he said, "When Freyel here contacted me for help, I was quick to the job. I've done some administration work before, but it didn't really appeal to me all that much. I could do it again, if there's anything left to adminstrate when we're done... but I'd be much more inclined to space work - you know, shipping, smuggling, that sort of thing. Naval work."

Both looked to Jag'Tai for his response; his exact reasons for accompanying Arelim were mysteries to them both.

[Jagtai]

The bounty hunter smiled.

"I have no personal interest in Lark. But Arelim did me a favor, so it seems only fair that I return the favor. Besides," he added with a grin, "if we succeed I assume I will receive a healthy payment for my services as well."

[Mir]

The Bothan nodded. "Muir wishes to work with whatever government will be created there, however, we'd rather work with one of you, then someone of the likes of Lark. Alright, Arelim, you work your way into his organization. Freyel, you'll work with us and give us any information you can get your hands on. Ryns are 'sometimes' able to get information we can't get." Muir grinned slightly. "As to Mr. Vroenik, you can take your pick of which of us to work with. The Muir will either undercut his competitors, but we're also going to be using our more 'detached' if you will ships and men to harass Lark."

[Jagtai]

The bounty hunter shrugged.

"Wherever you need me, though I'd prefer to assist Arelim. I can always offer my services to Lark - in my experience, few would-be crime lords will turn down the opportunity to employ an experienced bounty hunter."

He smiled wickedly...

[Mir]

"Very well." Mun shared the bounty hunter's sentiment. Once this was all over, perhaps a contract could be made so the Bounty Hunter could work for Muir in addition to any others he already had committments too...it would remain to be seen. "We all have parts to play, and we need to stay in touch. Let's begin."

OOC: Don't know where you want to go from here, but ball's in your court.

[Archangel]

After a few moments of silence, Yerrix opened his eyes, one at a time. Heik was no longer grinning, nor was he aiming his weapon at the Nalron; the slaver stared at the vibroblade that seemed to have grown from his chest, a look of confusion evident on his reptilian face. The Trandoshan grunted and slipped to the floor with a thud.

Behind him, the apparent wielder of the vibroblade stood, wiping the blade on one of the Trandoshans' tunics. The human smiled reassuringly and Yerrix nodded his thanks. The man said, "Never could abide Trandoshans, and slavers are the worst. Good luck in your mission, friend."

Taking this intervention as an act of some preferential divinity, Yerrix thanked the man again and closed up the crate and "confiscated" Heik's ship codes; he took the crate along to the Trandoshans' ship, a rare Helix-class light interceptor named the Leash. Yerrix made a mental note to change that when he had the time. The ship already had provisions and some weapons aboard, but the crate Yerrix was carrying would make sure there were arms aplenty in the eventual battle against Breggar Lark.

He took the ship out of the hangar and set a course for the rendezvous point he had indicated in his message to Freyel.

* * * * *

Breggar Lark smiled as the YT-2000 freighter called Blaze of Glory settled into the hangar; this mercenary could prove useful if things came to a head with this elusive Ryn. Despite having lost his slavers and there ship - though that loss was only realized circumstantially, given the attempts at discretion Lark maintained on the public channels - he had new employees. He had even received word that the bounty hunter Jag'Tai Vroenik was on his way to Kuras IV as well, and looking for work to boot. Lark suppressed a laugh of glee; things were looking up for him.

Arelim Seron, alias Evan Corrino, swaggered down the ramp of the Trader's Delight, alias the Blaze of Glory. It was a simple matter for the Muir to temporarily alter his transponder signal, in case any of Lark's people had noticed or reported seeing the Delight at Trade Spine Station during Freyel's narrow escape. Arelim was surprised that Breggar Lark himself was coming to greet him - flanked by heavily armed mercenaries, of course. Lark extended a hand, greeting him, "Evan Corrino, I presume?"

Arelim smiled and shook his hand warmly. "At your service, milord," he replied, going for a level of alleged respect - essentially, sucking-up - that would be common among the mercenary lowlifes that would work for a crime lord like Lark.

Lark, obviously, liked it; he grinned, replying, "Very good, very good... Won't you follow Jackson here - he'll show your to your quarters and duties. Enjoy all that money I'm giving you." He laughed, sparking a laugh in his cronies that Arelim picked up as well. He resisted the urge to cringe afterward; no wonder that Yerrix fellow did not like working for Lark.

As he walked away from the hangar, following "Jackson", he checked his chrono; Jag'Tai would be arriving soon.

* * * * *

"He says his name is Yerrix and that he used to work for Breggar Lark," Freyel explained to Mun Kas'ik-Muir, both of them presently on the Purveyor, discussing the situation. "He gave coordinates to meet him, where he would provide more information about Lark - and provide the deed, allegedly. He was obviously expecting Arelim and I, probably alone in the Delight, but as long as I contact him before things escalate, he would probably be willing to talk to you, as well. Personally, I think we should take him up on the offer - having a bargaining chip like the deed to Kuras IV would be spectacular against Lark, and I've personally found Nalroni to be a pretty trustworthy, honorable bunch - but it's up to you and your strategists, really." He preferred not leaving it up to the Muir, but without them, he had no support at all, and if this Nalron was lying, any meeting with him alone would be very short-lived.

[Mir]

Muir nodded. "Sounds like an ideal plan to me. Tell me, where did the coordinates tell us to go to?"


OOC: Hey Arch, I'm still not in classess yet..I still got the rest of today

[Archangel]

[OoC: You... you... You know what? I'm not even talking to you. Except IC.]

Freyel pulled out his datapad and tapped it a few times. "Looks like it's near Sluis Van; that's well on the way to the Elrood Sector, and has plenty of access routes, so it's a major by-way - and it's New Republic space, so it's unlikely Lark would try anything there, even if he is aware of the meeting - which he's probably not, assuming this Yerrix is telling the truth." Freyel shrugged as he continued, "The exact coordinates put it in a bit of random space off the main travel routes, so you'll need these actual coordinates if we're to jump there." He handed his datapad to the Bothan, to illustrate the point.

[Mir]

OOC: Its about 10:00 EST here...and my first class is at 1:25 pm EST....I still got a few more hours . And that hurts my feelings


IC:

Muir inspected the datapad before handing it to the navigation officer. The officer fed the coordinates into the hyperdrive control. "We're set, sir. Ready to move on your mark."

"Let's go."

Minutes later they were headed to the unknown and possibly dangerous system. On the way there, Muir and Freyel prepared for what would probably be a life threatening encounter. This Yerrix seemed to have his back against the wall, and any move or words considered to be a threat might be given the "blaster bolt" response. They wouldn't be able to take any soldiers with them at all, though the SpecOps were well versed in blending in with the shadows. But they would be armed somewhat. While Muir didn't trust Freyel's combat abilities, he knew that if they were trapped the Ryn would be able to figure someway out while Muir covered the shooting.