Desperate measures

[Byl Laprovik]

The cafe had the best beignets on Coruscant, and the caf wasn't half bad either. The morning air was mild and the wind wasn't up, so Byl decided to have his breakfast outside, rather than the glass domed eating area ensconced on the tower superstructure. He could afford to relax for a bit. He was ten minutes early. As he panned over his cup of caf, he scanned for signs of his associate's speeder. The gun in his inside holster pressed against his side, so he adjusted slightly in the seat.

The job, from the smokiest cigar backrooms of the Alderaan Coallition was simple, and Byl Laprovik was the man for it. He had a record of service since Hoth, and had been on the tip of the Rebel Alliance's spear for nearly three years. So when he was tapped for "other operations", it was an opportunity to really put his rising star into play.

Now, he was nearly a year into that, and two dozen operations later. Of course, working almost exclusively in disputed territory meant little time for handshakes, or hob-knobbing with people who appreciated that sort of thing. He was a soldier. A different kind of soldier. He had a sweet slice of rebel funding, and little rebel oversight, thanks to the natural difficulties in such a thing. He was his own franchise.

"Hey, thanks."

He tipped down the cost of his meal, and his waiter nodded appreciatively, leaving him to his privacy.

Today's job was, like a lot of other jobs, painted with a broad brush. An Imperial scientist was close to publishing findings that would give the Imperials an edge in the middle rim sectors. Byl's job was to convince the scientist that this idea may not be a wise one.

The beauty of jobs like this, are that details are neither given nor are they asked for.

Byl half smiled, popping the remnants of a beignet in his mouth as he checked out an attractive waitress on the other end of the balcony.

[Jaime Tomahawk]

What a craphole Coruscant was. Even more, the place stank. After so long in the Outer Rim so far out of contact, she didnt really know what to expect, how much it had changed under marginal Empire control, yet the place to her eyes was not a lot like she remembered, before the dary times, before the Clone Wars. In fact, she had left from the planet so many years ago not far from this spot.

As much as she been too far out of the Empire's frings to be affect by them, she still had to say to herself that what they had done to the former Republic's capital wasnt exactly the highlight of her tourism. Not really too much of an issue tho, she had no intention of staying for too long.

"Where the hell is this goddamn cafe?" she muttered under her breath, wondering how the hell the Imps had redone the walkways to make foot transit as difficult as possible without seeming so. Supposably a good job on offer here, something paying enough that a privateer like her would risk the Imps.

Though truth be told, it wasnt just the money. No, it was something else - something that was nagging away at her since Tattooine. Something she needed to see for herself. Something elusive - and while this was an unlikely place to find anything, here was as good as anywhere.

If she didnt shoot someone in frustration at this stupid walkway first.

[Byl Laprovik]

The appointment time was creeping up, and Byl went ahead and had his caf refilled.

No rush. Everything was shiny.

Still, it never hurt to have contingencies in place. Byl wasn't naive enough to leave home without them. He tapped at a discrete earbud in his left ear, and continued to glance at the adjacent walkways.

"Sup Jaka, its your wakeup call. Any spooks all up in your space?"

A moment of silence, then a voice with heavy Ryloth inflection spoke.

"Nah. Things is clean. I got my crew ready to throw down on enemy turf if things get too interesting up in the spot."

I brushed a dot of powdered sugar off of my sleeve.

"Keep the dogs back. Don't want any unnecessary beef unless things go sideways on our end."

"You the one holdin weight on this. We'll creep low, less things jump off. Later."

[Jaime Tomahawk]

Finally. She had managed to get here without gettign too badly lost and more importantly, not shooting anyone. Certainly, not a woman of patience in any respect. She glanced to her left, saw a old man shuffling along - noted his fingers tapping on the cane he used to steady himself.

Ahh, backup. Dont leave home without it. Jacques doing the old fogey routine - but more importantly signalling it was all clear. Not that she was worried, her time to be noticed by the Empire was long gone, it would even surpise her they would care or even know she existed anymore. Maybe they would have a track on her privateer ops, most likely not - still, better to be safe than in a prision cell.

Nice place this diner was. Classy. Perfect for a bit of underhand dealing. She made her way over to a table, snagged a menu and prompty shut it again. What the hell was the crap in there, it was stuff food ate, not what she ate.

"Would you like to order?"

She shot the waiter a stare that would freeze a sun. "Sure. How about that has a bit of meat in it with a double caf - with milk. I dont want any of the other crap you might have"

"Certainly. Nerf, saata, snaark, yak, bantha milk?"

She stared incredulous. "What the hell is a yak? How about rancor milk?"

"Ahh yes we do have that"

Wait, what? "Come to think of it, I didnt know rancors were mammals so I'll take nerf milk in the caf"

Maybe she had been away from the Core for far too long.

[Byl Laprovik]

That was a military breakfast if he'd ever seen one. Heavy stuff designed to grease the gears, heat the internals, and get the initial movements going.

Byl regarded her with half-disinterest, or at least the carefully manufactured imitation of it. After a while, he leaned toward the woman.

"You got a news flimsy?"

Laprovik took a level off his steaming fresh caf, and set it on the far end of Jaime's table.

[Jaime Tomahawk]

She didnt lift her head up from her now arrived.... whatever the hell it was. Something with a decent slab of meat, a bit of garnish, pretty well cooked by someone who knew what they were doing.

"Yeah, sure" she growled. "Long as you dont care it's from yesterday". Damn, this stuff wasnt bad at all. She would have to make a note to ask what exactly she was eating.

[Byl Laprovik]

"Yeah well, being a day behind doesn't matter when its all the same story I guess."

Byl took the flimsy from the lady, and held the transluscent reading film a bit above the table's surface.

"Glad you came."

He looked at Jaime with a sincere expression of appreciation.

"Hard to get any weight pulled when everybody's got their eyes firmly outside the core and inside the lines."

An old man lingered at the walkway's edge listlessly. Could be one of Jaime's people riding shotgun, or maybe not. Byl didn't pay it any mind. The lady rebel wasn't in a place to be anything other than on the level.

"You've seen my resume from Rieekand's people."

She wouldn't be here if she hadn't, so it wasn't saying anything they didn't know. Byl had been attached to General Rieekand's command since Hoth, but had been shuffled into a half dozen special assignments after the fleet broke up, following the surface attack. One incident involved a string of sabotages along the Bakuran fleet's resupply network, keeping it under-strength until Endor hit the fan.

After Rieekand's unfortunate death, the radar went cold.


"I need you to be straight with me. I can help, and I need to work. When Rieekand died, I don't think anybody wanted to tie his loose ends. Whether the Mon Cals have another plan or whatever, I don't know. I got my legs cut out from under me, and every operation I had in three sectors dried up.

I can't get involved if you're not ready to fully invest. Not because I don't want to, but I need connected people at times. You back me, and I'll put the ball in your court every time you need it."

[Jaime Tomahawk]

She let him hang for a bit after he went quiet. Partly because she was a bitch and wanted him to sweat and partly because this... meat was pretty good and it was a long time since she had something worth savouring.

"So you have some business you want taken care of, cant do it on your own and you heard that some General from the Clone Wars has resurfaced Corewards and thought they could help? Well I dont know where the kryst you got my name or how the kryst you found me, as far as I'm aware there's about 5 beings that know I exist still alive outside my band. Your... resume I dont give a flying kaboos about, tis words as far as I care, I care for results and loyalty. You found me, that's your results taken care of and thats the reason I came here, I'm rather interested how you did that. That and you said you had a job that might be of interest. Now, how about the loyalty bit before we talk business. How you going to prove that? Why should I trust you? And just how the Kryst did you find me and are you goign to keep your mouth shut about it?"

[Byl Laprovik]

"Yeah, that reminds me. Asking in your general direction wasn't cheap, and I had to get creative. I had to pull some strings in Garm Bel Iblis's network, and thats a blurry line to cross as it is.

Either way, there are a lot of people who are interested in you, even if they don't know the details. The devil's in the details, thats the problem."

That was the easy part.

"Loyalty. Well, you used to be 'these people', same as me."

Byl glanced about at the cityscape in general. They were in the lion's den of Imperial Center. Palpatine's jewel.

"I'm loyal to one thing, and thats making sure that all of this...that its days are numbered and that number's a small one.

I've done my leg work running around you, and unless you're a better liar than a Bothan, I peg you pretty close to me on that board.

You want to stay off the radar, I can respect that. I didn't rustle feathers getting whats mine and if we play ball, I can keep it on the down low as far as it needs to go. Brass tacks are that I need a player on the outside to back me up. You pull enough weight for the both of us."

[Jaime Tomahawk]

"Bel Iblis?"

Okkkaaaayyyy..... now this was getting interesting. Another true ancient from what she was learning was called 'The Clone Wars' like her. Besides, she was getting the feeling Laprovik was her kind of pskyhole.

"To be level with you, I dont know what type of.. pull I have with anyone, I suspect not much. I'm not exactly sure whats going on as yet either, no one in this krysting psyk of a place does - and I'm here for the profit now, there's plenty to be made for a privateer as you know I am now. So tell me, what have you got in mind and whose nose you want to tweek?"

[Byl Laprovik]

"Not him directly, no."

Byl shook his head, and tilted back his caf.

"They're careful people. More careful than the Alliance. I had to buy my way in with both cash and some good intel on Imperial operations on Ithor, but that's old news. My stock's more limited with Iblis's cell than with the Alliance, even if I'm out of favor."

The issue of profit came into play, and brought a smile to Byl's face. He returned the news flimsy to Jaime, with another data flimsy wedged between the folded polymer.

"I fight for a cause, General. That being said, money's the universal lubricant. Here's a way for us to have our cake and eat it too."

The flimsy between the news file showed a dossier from the Imperial Science Academy on Coruscant. A Dr. Keeran Lanant was announcing findings on a new horticulture project, designed to help boost food production on the Imperials's mid-core territorial farm worlds.

"My people recently got wind of this guy and his work."

[Jaime Tomahawk]

She took a bit time to read the proffered dossier.

"Pretty obvious what your desired outcome is Laprovik. I'm sure it would be thought of by the Imps, if they havent gotten more stupid than when I last was here"

Not that she didnt mind obvious. This was right up her alley, if she had guessed right. And she was quite she she had.

"What's the idea you have to do this?"

[Byl Laprovik]

"I've had people on this guy for a week leading up. He's covered top to bottom while on the nine-to-five, but that's about all they're willing to spare for a Farm Doc. He's military only so far as the military's budget pays the lease on the building he works in."

Byl slid another flimsy across the table. This one of Dr. Lanant, a woman approximately his age, and a brunette-haired little girl.

"He's also a family man."

[Jaime Tomahawk]

Guess pretty much on the money. Family was always such a good lever to use

"Your a bastard, Mr Laprovik.... I like that. Now which one of his family have you in mind to persude our scientist would be best served in silence? The girl most likely I presume. What's your ideas in doing this?"

[Byl Laprovik]

Byl's comm beeped.

"Hang on a sec."

He leaned back in his seat and activated it.

"Where you at? Keep this quick."

Voices on the other line were muted.

"Good. Make the grab and get out. Not too much of a rush. Don't call me on this number. You know where to go."

Byl closed the comm, and returned to his conversation with Jaime.

"I'm hedging my bets actually. Both of them."