Era of Rebellion - Navigation

Christopher Levy, Shawn Lovelett, and Alexander Oliva.
Zero years after the Battle of Yavin (35:5:3) in the Brentaal system: Brentaal IV (Cormond: The Speakeasy and The Unlucky Star).
Count Sylvain Isod, Teren Kellem (death), Khepri Tott (death), Jerris Vox, and X-3DO.

Night fell on the city of Cormond and Khepri Tott and Teren Kellem, two Sub-Lieutenants of the Black Sun, were having dinner at The Speakeasy, an upscale restaurant and casino in the heart of Cormond. Things had been going bad for the Black Sun since the death of Lork Rantee and whispers of a rival criminal organization growing had begin to fill the air. It was a topic of discussion among the ambitious and scheming men as they speculated openly about the future of Vigo Chall.

Both Khepri and Teren were closely studied. For awhile, Jerris had observed them from a mere distance. The Sub-Lieutenants of Black Sun would be oblivious to his presence as Jerris had experience in stealth and observation. He spent countless hours studying Khepri and Teren. Their eating habits, livelihood, and everyday activities. Learning about the Speakeasy dinner was not easy to discover. Having to bribe an associate of the organization, Jerris made sure the information was full. Of course, he was careful and purposely executed the informant. Would had he given him up, Jerris will be aware. He was mindful that if this close former informant did break word about his assassination attempt, might spark close protection. Of course, he's not well-known in the galaxy. Entering the local restaurant from the rear. He worn a matching suit from the waiters. Something that hopefully made Jerris blend within the associates. Might draw him closer to his two targets. Kill two birds with one stone.

"Have you heard about the Gharzr?" the Neimoidian Sub-Lieutenant Khepri Tott asked, sounding quite panicked as he rubbed together his gray hands nervously. His species was prone to fear and paranoia and he saw danger at every corner. The man had not been the same since the death of Lork Rantee, who he had a long history going back to before the Clone Wars. He was thinking about getting off Brentaal and heading back home ... the credits were starting to dry up and with the Imperial crackdown credits were not as easily had.

"Don't worry about the Gharzr," the arrogant human Sub-Lieutenant Teren Kellem said, as he slammed his fest on the table, knocking over his mug of Corellian ale. "Argh!" he groaned as he stepped from the table, fearful of the liquid spilling on his pants. "You see what you made me do now?" he said, as he grabbed a cloth napkin and began clotting the liquid. "I don't want to hear anymore about some stupid 'Gharzr'," the man said, as he sat himself back in his seat.

Observing them from behind the doorway, Jerris started planning. From time-to-time he made plans before making his move, but the mercenary being risk this time. Not forget he needed to be "creative". The 'waiter' began receiving their current dish. Did this cause for poisons? Of course, he did bring along a few liquids incase, but then again, there were bodyguards. Those who taken sips before their employers took them. No, not poisons. Think, Jerris. Think. Given the platter of food, Vox lost his train of thought. As the Rodian Chef pressured him, he walked. "Alright, alright! Damn, hold your nerfs!" Damn Rodians. Reminded him of Greedo, poor guy. Anyways, he retrieved the platter and went walking towards Teren and Khepri. Expertly, he set down the platter of ordered food from the Chef. "Enjoy." He said kindly. A fake smile was form before he departed, only as he returned shortly near the kitchen. Thinking. Thinking. Oh hell, lets just blast them, he thought.

"Did you see in the news that Count Isod has been shot?" the Neimoidian asked again, not even acknowledging the waiter as he began to sample his meal. "Blah. Poorly cooked .. again," he scoffed, as he tossed his fork aside angrily. He had a delicate palette and he had never quite gotten used to 'Human' cooking. Khepri grabbed hold of his goblet of wine and took another long sip, content to rely on the adult beverage rather than the meal.

"I wish they had killed him," Teren Kellem replied as he began devouring his meal with less than gentlemanly manners. "He seems really pompous from what I've seen on Imperial Holovision..." he said, as his crumbs began to dribble from the corner of his mouth and fell upon his shirt. "Still ... it feels like the Rebels are everywhere..." he muttered under his chin as he took a drink from his goblet again.

Listening closely, Jerris had learned about Isod being shot. This brought interesting news. But his intended targets was more of focus than Isod at the moment. No interest came about Isod. His hidden SSK-7 was soon drawn out when he came out from the corner. Another was quickly drawn. Approaching a nearby droid guarding both men, he drew his blaster right over it's spine. His finger squeezed the trigger, sending a blast shot to his back. Hopefully to disable the guards systems.

The old model B-1 battle droid quickly exploded as the blaster connected to the small of its back, causing the Neimoidian to throw up his arms quickly and began to panic. "No! Don't shoot!" he yelled, as he dropped to his knees and attempted to hide beneath the table. It was a pathetic display by the 'powerful' Black Sun officer, but it was the nature of his species.

Teren's hand dropped to his side and quickly pulled out his MerrSonn Munitions Q2 hold-out blaster the second the shooting began. "Scum!" he yelled out as he attempted to bring the weapon up towards the man. He was old, and he had been drinking, so his reflexes were not what they used to be. He pulled back on the trigger, but unleashed a wild shot that went off into the far wall.

One swift encounter left Jerris ducking down the moment Teren attempted his shot. Missed and off his aim, seems the drinking had impaired Teren's capacity to shoot Jerris. Yet, he drew up and aimed his SSK-7 heavy blaster directly towards Teren's temple. The muzzle was well trained on his head, as he squeezed back shooting off another round.

The red crimson bolt of death tore into Teren's temple, sending it tearing through his brain. His eyes rolled up in a death glare as the second bolt collided, which caused the man's lifeless corpse to fall forward onto the table, sending it collapsing to the side and exposing his sniveling colleague.

"No!" the Neimoidian screamed as his cover was blown, and he began to crawl helplessly along the floor in a desperate attempt to escape as the patrons began to flee the Speakeasy ... running in terror as the blaster fire echoed through the establishment. "Whatever you're being paid ... I'll doub- ... triple it!" he screamed, as he crawled over Teren's body in his continued bid for escape.

Watching the Neimoidian questioned Jerris' sudden terror when he entered and startled others. He noticed patrons fleeing after he killed Teren. Watching Teren's corpse lay beneath Khepri, he grinned. A sadistic smile was plastered all over his face. Much indeed he's appreciated making this easy. Coming closer near Khepri, he drew his blaster over Khepri's eye. The muzzle merely grazed his face until Jerris' finger drew back again sending another crimson bolt into his head.

The bolt tore into Khepri's eye, killing him instantly and causing his body to collapse on that of his dead colleague. The Black Sun had lost three of its top officers on Brentaal in the past month and the organization was now suffering from a distinct lack of manpower at the top. Clearly, the door was beginning to open for a rival organization to step in to fill the hole that had been created.

Witnessed Teren's colleague fall beside him. The Black Sun Sub-Lieutenants had been assassinated, leaving Jerris to obtain some valuable credits from his employer. Just as he finished his contract, there came a rival organization coming from the front entrance. Kneeling down, his finger dipped within Teren's skull smearing blood within his pinky finger. He begun writing down the words his employer told him to write on a separate napkin. From there, he quickly escaped from the rear door covering his tracks and switching out to his casual clothes.

Making departure from the Speakeasy near the heart of Cormond, Jerris had returned to the local cantina near the docking bay, where his vessel, the Marauder, docked. Sitting in an private booth by himself, he waited patiently while viewing the Imperial Holovision, watching news about more Rebels creating terror on other star systems beyond of Brentaal. He drank up some fresh Corellian Ale brought by the waitress, whom he winked flirtatiously.

A cup of tea settled on the desk to his right beside him, it had as been an hour since he had been cleared for medical treatment. Isod picked up the circlet, and slipped across his head. The computer systems in the droid were warming up. He could now see the usual view-screen of the room where the droid was located. He gritted his teeth, as he worked the control to have the droid move, and pick up the robes which it soon slid on. As soon as he came home, he had saw the posting had hit the holo net, his man had succeeded in his job, and now the holo-news would go from his assassination, and to this recent attack on the Black Sun, two days, and two victories on both fronts. The droid opened up the cargo door, and stepped out into the black of night, drawing it's hood about it's body, folding both hands into the sleeves, from there he gave the body a command, and it obeyed silently, avoiding direct contact with people, as well anyone that would be considered problematic in his case. Thirty minutes later the droid stepped into the cantina, scanning the occupants, Isod's targeting system picked up his location, and made his way to Jerris, before sitting down across him. Sylvain took a few controlled breathes, knowing that the droid wouldn't betray the drain in his voice from being shot so he was comfortable with speaking. "At this moment in time, you will find the agreed amount of the first payment has been accredited to your account. I do hope that they weren't any trouble." He said, as the droid subtly shifted in it's seat as it were human, a manipulation that took a bit longer for Isod, since it strained his body to use the other arm.

"Not a problem. They did not seem like too much trouble." Silent breath escaped past his lips while another sip of his ale was taken. A single droplet fell from the corner of his lips splashing on his shirt. He wiped his mouth off.

"You can see the credits are real, just as I am. I have more jobs, if you are interested of course." Isod said, as he glanced to a computer screen with a listing of possible operations, with a credit point added on each. He used his right hand bring up the next one, as he waited for the man's response.

"Sure, could use the extra cash." Since he has been modifying the Marauder for quite some time. Adding illegal devices onboard might be sufficient. Leaning back, those dark brown eyes trained on the droid. "What do you got else that needs done?"

"In the slums of Cormond in apartment building 3x-2 in room 104 is a man who runs a business in refining death sticks, now this unique formula which he's discovered, and endorsed into a lovely little side business by the Black Sun, is being held captive currently. I would like you retrieve the chemist alive, and unharmed, and his personal bodyguard, both alive. The side job will pay of course, 10,000 credits. That's if you are interested." He added, as he had the photoreceptors of the droid zoom in on the man's face, so that Isod could make out the slightest reactions to his words.

No instant reaction. A light nod was replied. "Alright. Sounds fair enough. Is there anything else aside from harmless action?" Leaning forward, both hands clasped together while his eyes peered deeper into the droids face, if it was anyway visible.

"The bodyguard, I would like you prepare him for a private session. I think it's time I introduced myself to the Black Sun, and I would like him to deliver a message." He said, as a datachip was slipped out from the right wrist of the droid, and placed down onto the table. "Usual data package, unfortunately I only have a lay out of what the apartment looks like without any alterations, none of my men have been able to get in. The bodyguard knows his business, that's for sure. You wouldn't expect anything less from a Clone War veteran." He said as he waited for that information to register in his face.

Listening attentively to the droid, Jerris had nodded. When he lowered a small datachip consisted of a schematic of the apartment building, his gloved hand fell down retrieving the chip. On his wrist, he carried a PAC20 visual wrist computer. The datapad had a memory slot for information. Slipping inside, he typed a few key codes and activated a hologram of the apartment. Began studying the place for himself. "They operate all day and night? Or primarily day or night?"

"It's a six hour sleep schedule for the man, with eating between batches, it's more slavery then a position for a man with such talent. Your looking at a guard rotation every six hours, with a variation between twelve different men. The bodyguard is always there, I'm informed that he wears a modified AV-1S heavy armor. The man relies upon it, so this job will require a delicate hand, and a little creative flair." Isod said, as he held back a yawn.

AV-1S body armor. This means research. The mercenary had typed more keys as the hologram disappeared from sight. "Infiltration is one thing. But, could be a little risky. If joining the rotations, maybe I could gain entry and try...befriending him. Would you know if they are seeking more hired hands?"

"The Black Sun is finding it harder to recruit, so if say two men had an accident, I could possibly leverage the selection of the new guards by my double agent. Do you think you could play nice with another Mercenary?" Isod asked, as he considered the Zabrak.

"As long as the credits stay the same, then sure I won't mind working a long side another." Trusting others was difficult and hard, yet the number one ingredient to a successful relationship.

"Excellent, I'll see to his acquisition, as long as you can see to the coming unfortunate accident. I do hope you don't mind working under an assumed name, I want to make sure your time with me is kept of course completely out of the public eye." Isod said, eyeing the man, he was still unsure if this man could truly be trusted, which was why he had Jenna create this droid body for him, so that his will could still be carried out.

Features were difficult to distinguish. Something about the mercenary's past was kept under lock and key. Many might suspect of betrayal and loyalties, while others become oblivious. He remains moderate with his expressions, maintaining business eye-level with the droid. "I'm not eager to be part of the Imperial news. Best to use an alias."

"If there aren't any further questions, then?" Isod asked.

"None. I will keep track of this and try getting it down as soon as possible." He said, standing from his seat.

"Excellent ... If you do have anymore questions you know how to contact me." Isod said, as he had the droid rise form it's seat, and start to make his way out. The metallic fingers drawing the hood further over his face as he moved out of the Unlucky Star cantina.

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