Nar Shadda by Night

[Kiltik]

"Come on, you guys! Hurry it up! The Pol will be here any minute!"

The high-pitched, oscillating whine of police sirens was already on the air; Faint, but drawing closer by the second. Each of the 4 men were wearing dark masks covering everything but their eyes, and all but one of them cradled large, metal cages. The fourth man urged them to hurry up and toss the cages in the back as he hopped into the driver seat of the speeder. The sirens were clearly audible now, and they were definitely headed towards the zoo.

The driver leaned back over his seat, calling back once more.

"Hurry up, you twits! If you the Pol get here and you guys aren't in the speeder, I'm taking off without you!" There were a few muttered replies, but nothing more.

"Now that," a gravelly voice rumbled, "Wouldn't be very polite at all."

The driver turned around, his eyes wide and his pulse racing, just in time to see a gauntleted fist smash through the short windshield. No way!, was all that crossed his mind before his forehead was smashed into the dash, knocking him unconscious.

"Hey boss? Boss?? What the frell was that sound?"

"That," came the reply, "Was the sound of your impending jail time."

There was swearing, followed by loud crashes as all of the men dropped what they were carrying. The animals inside the cages let out various calls of protest.

"Now that wasn't very polite", the voice said, flat and unwavering.

"Frell you, man! We don't have the time for you! You're dead!"

The first man, tall and skinny and more than a bit shakey, pulled out a blaster and pointed it in the direction the voice came from. There was a quick SWISH sound, followed by a CLANG as the blaster was knocked out of his hand. There was a flash of movement; A tall figure with a cloak and - horns? - And the man was down on the pavement, moaning in pain.

"Who's next?"

[Johan Tempest]

This nutjob seems to have the driver and gunman under control, but he left two other dudes standing.

"Up to me to get them. What a slacker."

Johan Tempest was at the scene before anyone else, looking for his moment to strike, serve up some justice, show off, pick up some chicks, but then THIS guy has to show up. And on top of that, he didn't even get 'em all. The cocky teen bursts from his hiding place, taking one of the remaining four by surprise with a shoulder tackle. The guy flies away, leaving one more.

"Hey, Twinkles, you gonna get him or do I hafta finish mopping up after you?"

[Kiltik]

The armorer figure turned its head to side, the blank visage of its mask somehow managing to look incredulous.

"Why don't you stay out of this, kid? You're just going to get yourself hurt."

The last thug, however dumb he may have been wasn't interested in standing around any longer. While Kiltik was distracted, he took the opportunity to hop into the speeder, pushing his unconscious friend out of the way.

"Great", her muttered, turning back around even as the speeder rumbled to life.

"You've just made my job this much harder, kid. Hope you're proud of yourself."

As the speeder started to pick up speed and head out of the parking lot, Kiltik reached out his right arm, bending his fist backward. With a muffled sound, a cable shot out of his wrist, anchoring itself in the back of the vehicle. Pulling himself by the cable and leaping forward, the armored figure landed on the back of the speeder with a crash.

[Johan Tempest]

"I am actually."

Johan is keeping pace with fair ease. He's not even trying.

"This is much more fun, don't you agree? Plus, it means we get the opportunity to show off some."

[Kiltik]

Sometimes, Kiltik was thankful for the mask on his face. Real thankful. It hid the incredulous look on his face quite well. He didn't have time, however, to stop and wonder how the spunky kid was keeping up with a speeder travelling well above the posted limit. He had to end this quickly, before they created too much of a ruckus. Kiltik wasn't ready to reveal himself to the general public... not yet.

"That's a cute trick, kid. Real cute. But why don't you leave this one to the real her-"

He was cut off as the driver swerved, trying to throw him off. Kiltik responded quickly by sinking his clawed fingers into the back of the vehicle, holding on firmly.

"Get the FRELL off!!", the crook exclaimed.

"Not likely," the caped crusader muttered as he tried to make his way forward.

A side glance revealed that they were heading towards the business district of town. There were a couple of greasy eateries, clothing shops... the usual. Well, that guns n' roses store up ahead certainly wasn't usual. But no time to think about that.

[Johan Tempest]

Johan picks up the pace a little bit and draws alongside the speeder.

"Pull over, buddy. There's speed limits to be adhered to."

He slams his shoulder into the car, sending it flying into the flower shop's display case.

"Yeah...that'll do the trick."

Young Tempest folds his arms and smirks at his handiwork. Not bad at all.

[Kiltik]

The eyeslits of Kiltik's facemask squinted shut even as he felt himself launched forward with the car. There was a crash, of course, followed by the sound of glass raining down all around him. He was uninjured - the bodysuit saw to that quite nicely. The same couldn't be said of the driver, who was currently rolling back and forth on the ground, moaning.

Kiltik stood up, still covered in fragments of glass and... flower petals? And slapped on hand over his face, shaking his head back and forth.

"I don't supposed it ever occured to you that I was still attached to that speeder when you thought up that little move, did you?"

Red eyeslits turned from side to side, taking in the damage they had done. He spotted what a man whom he assumed was the store owner, standing in the back of the store. An apology was certainly in order, as well as a fair amount of credits to pay for the repairs.

[The Daisy]

Light muzak played in the flower and gun shop, and the scent of roses, tulips and lilacs mingled with gun oil and cigar smoke.

The red glow of a burnign cigar stump illuminated Pete Fortress' grim face, and the sound of a round hbeign chambered echoed through the store. To his side, the shopowner held a Browning 50 cal machine gun from days long past. The laser sight attached to it found Johan's chest, seeing as he wasn't apparently wearing armor, and a gruff voice growled, "You mind tellin' me why you decided to mess up my window display, punks? Those were imported hiyacynth, and they aren't cheap."

[Johan Tempest]

"Hey, don't focus so much on the negative, pal. Your window just foiled a robbery. Now your window is a hero. Charge people money for it's autograph, or something, jeez."

[The Daisy]

BRR-AKKA-AKKA-AKKA-AKK!

The browning spat forth a stream of hot lead at Johan's feet, skipping scross the pavement, but still taking a few chunks out of ot.

When he took his finger off the trigger, Pete stepped forwad, the gun again leveled at the youth's chest. "Kids with big mouths used to know when shutting up was a good idea; espeically with guns pointed at them. You, in the droid getup, what's the meaning of this? What syndicate do you work for?"

[Kiltik]

"I don't work for any syndicate. I can't speak for the kid here. Look, I'm sorry about the window, sir. I'll compensate you for the damages and be on my way."

One clawed hand scratched the back of his helm; He was clearly a bit put-off.

"In fact, I'll give you an extra little something if you forget you ever met us when the authorities arrive to arrest this man on the ground."

[The Daisy]

"And just how do I know he's the criminal and not you? I don't know many honest men who wear mask, so howsabout you take off that tin can of yours and we take a look-see?" The man said, coming into the light. He was wearing a gray trenchcoat and a blue tee-shirt with a daisy on the front with eye sockets and nose holes of a skull, and he didn't look happy.

"And, just how do you think you could make it worth my while, too?"

[Kiltik]

There was a scratching sound from under the mask as the man beneath it scoffed. He turned away and took several steps back through the broken window, glass crunching methodically under his boots.

"Believe whatever you want to believe. The police will be here to arrest that man any minute now, and I'll be gone by then. "

[Johan Tempest]

"Dude, just stop complainin', and keep this secret. Or if you've really got so much beef with us, get off your duff and come on. We ain't hanging around here much longer."

[The Daisy]

Setting the Browning on the counter, Pete stepped out of the shop, his hands in his trenchcoat pockets.

"Fine," he spoke around his cigar. "Hey, you listening, pal? I'm talkin' to you," he grumbled at Kiltik, slapping a palm on his shouler and spinning him around, his other hand holding out a business card. "Call me at this number tomorrow afternoon. I'll be able to tell you just how much you owe me for the repairs, and how much not telling the cops about you will cost. Name's Pete. Now, get out of here before I stop being so polite, and take your flunkie with you."

The whine of sirens could already be heard, and Pete took a long drag from his cigar, puffing it in Kiltik's face. "See you 'round, pal," he grinned mischeviously, then headed back into his shop, muttering something about tights and delusions of grandeur.

[Kiltik]

The Next Day...

"Ah, it's good to finally be out of that costume and away from that cocky snot."

The dark haired man slid further down into his hottub, taking a sip from his glass of champagne with one hand while flipping through channels on the holonet with his other. He stopped on a new channel, setting the remote down next to the bath.

... the Police have declined to comment on the situtation, refusing to confirm or deny eye-witness claims that a masked vigilante was responsible for the capture of 4 men in an attempted zoo robbery. Reports are sketchy and somewhat conflicting at this point, but...

He flicked the power off. That the world would know about the vigilante crimefighter Kiltik, he had no doubt. He was trying to keep it under wraps for as long as possible but, eventually, the public at large would find out. He hoped, however, that the truth would never be known; That Kiltik was really multi-billionare playboy, Vicent Vega, he prayed no one would ever discover.

DING-DONG

The doorbell. How wonderful.

Extracting himself from the hottub, Vincent threw a towel around himself and strode over to answer the door. He slapped one hand on the pressure plate next to it, and it slide open with it's familiar whoosh.

"Yes, what is it?"

[The Daisy]

The Previous Night...

Pete Fortress watched as the caped crumudgeon and wonder-boy disappeared, Puffing at his stubby cigar. Then it was back to his back room to not answer the door when the cops arrived, but to turn on his computer and watch as a lovely homing beacon traced its way across the map. Once it was still for half an hour, he deemed it to be "home" and pulled up a mapping system.

The real estate location he found was a far more lucrative one than he ever could ahve dreamed. The homing beacon he has slapped on Kiltik's shoulder was pinging from inside the home of Vincent Vega, one of the richest me this side of Dagobaah. Instantly he picked up one of the miniature cards and scripted out a note with unerring penmanship in fluid cursive on it with a fountain pen. Mr. Vega was about to get a little uncomfortable.

- - -

The Next Day...

A scrawny teenager in an obviously ill-fitting uniform shirt stood outside Vincent Vega's door, his expression mostly apathetic to the task he was being paid to do. The sight of a man in a towel opening the door did little to perk his enthusiasm, either. "Mr. Vega?" he asked, his voice nearly cracking. "Delivery for you."

With all the emption of a droid on a low-power setting, the teen extended a bouquet to him and sort of shrugged as the man took them. Then he just stood around waiting for a tip or stomething. In truth, the boy had never done a flower delivery before; nor any kind of delivery for that matter. But, Pete had paid him rather well to do the work, so he was doing it.

The bouquet was expertly arranged, and wrapped in the customary cellophane protecting funnel. It was mostly daisies with baby's breath and fern leaves, but a few haiacynth blossoms were also inserted, and all of it was wrapped around a long shard of plate glass.

The card read, in fancy calligraphy,
"Mr. Vega,
You owe me a new window, as well as the price or installation, and also that of the flora that was displayed there. I have taken the liberty of tallying it up using mid-rate construction crews, and standard plant aquiring groups. The total is less than it could have been, as you thankfully did not take otu the door."[/i]

It went on to list a modest price for the damage Kiltik had promised to pay, then it continued,
"However, since the most interesting event of your real identity has come to my attention, I feel obligated to ask an extortionately priced bonus to keep your little nightly charades a secret.
-Pete Fortress"

The abount Pete asked to keep Vincent's identity secred was rediculous one, but still within reason. A phone number was underlined on the back of the card.

[Kiltik]

Vincent swore, taking the flowers and tossing them on the table. He waved the delivery boy away, tossing the flowers on the a coffee table and walking over to his living room.

"Is there something wrong, sir?" The Twi'Leki serving girl stopped, a look of concern on her face and a glass of champagne balanced on a silver tray.

"No. No, not really. I'll need you to prepare credit chit with this amount for me." He thrust the note in her direction. Her eyes went wide when she saw the amount, but she didn't say a word. She was one of the few people Vincent Vega trusted with his secret identity and she knew the cost of keeping it that way.

--

*thok, thok*

Metal knuckles rapped against the front door of the flower shop. It wasn't quite night yet, but most of the light had already left the sky. A quick heat scan showed that there was still someone inside. This was going to have to be a delicate matter... blackmail was not something Kiltik took lightly.

[The Daisy]

"Come in, we're still open," a gruff voice called from the back of the store. The windows had already been replaced, and a new display had been set up; Pete knew that it would be difficult to sell his merchandise with a busted storefront, so he had it repaired that morning. Now all it lacked was the store's name and logo painted on it again, but that would be next week.

The heat sensor in Kiltik's mask would have picked up a hot spot fluxuating near Pete's head; his cigar. Pete Fortress sat back behind the counter with his boots propped up in front of him and his hands clasped behind his head. "Feel free to look around, I've got a sale on the irises this week, if you're interested," he spoke around his cigar as if the armored man was just another customer.

[Kiltik]

He raised one hand, flicking the credit chit in storeowner's direction. The man caught it, looked it over and grunted something that sounded like approval.

"You realize, of course, that what you're doing is blackmail." Kiltik didn't wait for a reply. "And you must also realize that I don't take kindly to being bullied around. For the price you are asking, I don't expect to hear from you again. If you try to bully so much as a single credit out of me on top of that price, I think you'll find my genoristy will come to an end."

[The Daisy]

Pete kicked his feet off the counter and ran the chit through the register to see how much was on it, then nodded. "Fine with me, but, still, those irises are quite nice; cut fresh about three hours ago. Or maybe you'd like a little firepower to beef up that suit of yours, Mr. Vega."

[Kiltik]

There was a long pause. The eye slits of Kiltik's mask flickered for a moment as he seemed to consider something. A plan was forming.

"Actually... I take that back. You looking to make a little extra money?"

[The Daisy]

Leaning forward on his stool, Pete sucked at his cigar before pulling it away with a hand, his voice coming out in a cloud of smoke, ""What kind of money, and what would you need me for?"

[Kiltik]

"I could always use an extra pair of eyes," he replied candidly. "You're in a pretty rough neighborhood here. All you have to do for me is give me a call on this...", he produced a small, cylindrical comm, "When you see something you think might require my attention."

The plan was two-fold. Pete Fotress was obviously very keen; The costumed hero doubted that very much slipped under his notice around this area. Secondly, it would insure his loyalty: After all, the man could hardly try to bully more money out of the deal when it's being handed to him on a monthly basis.

[The Daisy]

Pete reached out and took the comm, looked it over, then casually tossed it back over his shoulder where it landed squarely in the middle of a decorative wooden in-box for flower orders.

"And then you'll swoop in and play hero, right?" He groused. "Well, if you need that much help, suppose I ought to give it to you. Rich boys like you never do get used to doing their own work when they can hire others, do they? But, I do thank you for the creds, I'll put them to good use."

Stepping back into the dimly lit shop, Pete Fortress nudged a daliah back into place in an arrangement and called back over his shoulder. "So, where does that leave us, pallie? Partners? Hope not, don't need word getting out that I'm paired up with an armored pretty-boy like you. And, I do suppose you won't want me callin' you by name on that comm, would you? So what's your other name, kid?"