The Heap

[Morgan Evanar]

Despite spots of grandure and splendor, few people know just how much garbage Coruscant makes.

As one of the hubs of government and trade in the galaxy, it makes a lot of garbage.

Courscant garbagefolk theorize that the planet would have doubled in mass in the past five thousand years if it wasn't quickly shipped off planet.

Dry waste was shipped to four places, each called "The Heap." For a nominal fee, you could buy items out of it. Everthing went through the heap. Datapads, desks, speeders, couches. It was sorted, to a degree.

Morgan wandered through a row of crashed speeders, looking for a few specific models. An iR-22C with a destroyed rear. An R-22S with a wrecked front. One H-30 hauler with a chasis that collasped when he gave it a gentle push, yet most of the drive systems looked intact, but most important, the power regulators looked very servicable. He grinned, and tagged all three to be towed back to one of the emptier flight bays at the Order.

-------------------
CLANG a chung of the hauler's sub-frame disintegrated at Morgan smacked it with a sledge. He violenty wretched the remaing bits free, leaving only the powertrain. With a grunt, he flipped the spine over, exposing the regulators and control systems.

"Ooh." Almost everything was intact, if dirty. The wiring harness was a touch loose. He took a closer look at it. A bag of something and a vial of something else were hidden there. It smelled very chemical. Morgan took another look when the shaft started to beep.

Frantic, he reached inside the harness again, pulling at something foriegn. groan groan CRUNCH. It came free.

Morgan flung it out of the bay doors as hard as he could, and dropped to the ground, desperately covering his head.

FUMP-BOOM A hurricane gust of wind scattered loose parts and scrap through the mostly empty bay.

Those somethings were bad news.

[AmazonBabe]

:: Morgan had informed AB that he had returned from his trek at The Heap, and she had in turn informed him that she would be down once she had finished some business she was attending to. She was curious to see what parts he had rescued from the garbage dump. ::

:: The bay he was in was relatively sound proof, so she didn't hear the muffled explosion. But when the doors to the bay slid open, she was greeted by a cloud of dust and a horrid stench. ::

:: She squinted her eyes, stopping at the door, and waving her hand in front of her face, coughing. ::

Mor--*cough*--gan? Are you in here?

[Morgan Evanar]

"Aye. Frell." He stood up and dusted himself off. Flecks of rusted metal dust came out of his hair like red dandruff.

"Someone decided that whatever is in that wiring harness is worth blowing up to bits. Some funny smelling powder, and some funny smelling liquid. I think its artificial." After a moment of searching, he held up the two items.

"I think they're bad." Rie looked at him somewhat blankly. She was discovering that Morgan had a tendency to state the obvious now that his memories were gone. Red hair bobbed up and down in agreement.

"We should take this to the Watch."

[AmazonBabe]

Good idea.

:: She'd stopped waving her hand in front of her nose, and instead now covered her nose with her hand, some of her hair gathered to her nose so that she'd smell the scent of flowers rather than whatever that stink bomb had let off. ::

And another good idea would be to open the bay doors wide and get some air circulating in here. At this point I'd rather take my chances against Coruscant's air-pollutants than whatever that thing exploded in here.

:: She was turning towards the large control panel next to the door she was standing beside, hitting a button. The bay's doors, which had been partially open, began to open to their fullest, letting the stench in the bay seep out and break up in the air. After a moment, she let her hand come down from her nose. ::

Better.

:: She then hit the button again, and the bay doors began to close once more. She turned to Morgan who had put the "left-overs" into an empty metal tool box and had made his way to where she was standing. ::

To the Watch then?

[Commander Zemil Vymes]

While the coffee brewed, Vymes smoked, and threw darts. His "office", if it could be called, was barely large enough to make for a sporting game of darts, but if he stood on the far edge, he could just make it a sporting throw to the far wall, where a dartboard hung. He loosed three in quick succession, puffing on a cheap cigar as he did so. The darts hit home, two hitting bullseye. Pacing back to the wall, Vymes retrieved his darts, and returned to his position to repeat the process. It helped to clear his thoughts...and help him think. And he had a lot of thoughts on his mind. The Kadeezi swoop gang, for instance. Vymes had smelled blood in the water for months, but had less than nothing to go against these street thugs. At best, a speeding ticket, or some trivial misdemeanor. But, for what he couldn't link in legalistics, he had damned them in street smarts. He knew they were up to something...and that something, in Coco district, was usually drugs. Most of the illegal casinos and whorehouses had been busted out of district, so unless the Kadeezis were into something else entirely, the street vibe pointed to dope. But how, and in what way? Vymes was hanging on the end of that rope. Puffing away at his stoagie, he readied himself for another shot...

[Morgan Evanar]

A brief exchange with the grumpy lump of a... something at the front desk led Morgan and Rie to something that looked more like the door to a broom closet than an office. A cracked nameplate said "Zimel Vyme(s?)." The name had been written on a peice of tape that covered the original owner's name, "Janitor."

The 6' 6" Jedi accidentally knocked on the door with a little more force than was prudent. It wasn't shut tight, or didn't close properly, because the door smacked Vymes in mid-toss, sending the dart into the wall.

"Ahrh, sorry about that. Are you Commander Vymes?"

[Commander Zemil Vymes]

Vymes turned, tucked his cigar in the corner of his mouth, and glowered slightly at his visitor.

"Yeah, I'm Vymes. Whaddya want?"

[AmazonBabe]

:: AB, being about 6 or 7 inches shorter than Morgan, peeked from behind, catching a glimpse of Vymes scowl... and the dart way off it's mark on the wall. She straightened her stance again behind Morgan and waited for him to walk inside the office, if one could call it that. She followed him in once there was room enough in the doorway. ::

[Morgan Evanar]

Morgan was undaunted by Vymes' gruff, a combination of ignorance and confidence.

"Well, I'm rebuilding a speeder, and I stopped by the Ikowski district Heap. An H-30 hauler with a crumbling body but good drive systems had these in it." Morgan set the tool box down, and opened it, then turned it so the large bag and clear canister were in open view.

Vymes' eyes got big enough to serve a meal on.

"There was an explosive in there too, but I managed." he commented offhand. "D'ya know what that stuff is?"

[Commander Zemil Vymes]

Setting the pariphenalia on his desk, Vymes rounded to the other side, took a seat, and opened each, taking a cursory waft of each container.

"Powder's Ryll, uncut. Liquid's Todic Nitrate."

Not catching recognition from the visitors, Vymes continued.

"...you cut it with an inert stabilizer for death sticks. Street value...a grand, two...hard to say."

Setting his cigar aside, Vymes tapped his wristcomm.

"Brielle, Nobbei, I need to talk to you asap."

Turning the comm off, Vymes set the drugs aside, and returned his cigar to its usual spot.

"You say you found this at the Ikowski district Heap? You report it to the Ikowski Watch?"

[Morgan Evanar]

He nodded.

"Ah, Ikowski's Watch said they were 'too busy sorting the bodies that came out of the Heap to bother.' But they ran the ID on the H-30 for me. They said its from Coco."

"Commander, I'm, uh... a little upset. I had to tear an explosive out of the wiring subframe to avoid getting killed this morning. It was welded in. Whoever was sending this out wanted to make sure it got to the right person."

The cigar smoke was getting to him. Morgan's nose scruched up, and he squelched a sneeze, turning into a "snrrhrrrhuhaaah."

[AmazonBabe]

:: AB looked at Morgan as he sneezed, thinking to herself that the smoking cigar was a bit much in such a cramped office. ::

Bless you.

:: She then looked back at the Commander to see what his comment would be to Morgan's last statement. ::

[Commander Zemil Vymes]

"Good. Take a seat."

He gestured to both of them.

"You don't look like a scav, and you're too well dressed to be one of those homeless drollers down on the lower levels. Furthermore, you aren't on the dope if you're turning it in. You a booster? It might be illegal, but I'll pretend it didn't happen, so long as you recovered the swoop intact."

[Morgan Evanar]

He sat. The chair threatened to collapse at any second. For the first time, he was glad he had lost weight, although his body immediately disagreed and growled for more food.

Morgan looked at him blankly, his mind abuzz with a headache as he figured out what Vymes was talking about. No, he wasn't any of those things.

"What? No, no. We're Jedi. I'm Morgan Evanar and this is Master Rie Mystt."

[Commander Zemil Vymes]

"...right."

Vymes' brow furrowed, as he flecked away the ash on his cigar.

"Jedi or not, going down to the heap isn't exactly recommended. You said the swoop's body was damaged, but the engine remained intact, right?"

[Morgan Evanar]

"Speeder, or small hauler depending on who you ask." Morgan corrected. "Most of the engine, sans repulsors were gone, but the power regulators were still there. Halidex put the regulators in a sub-frame seperate from the repulsors. The sub-frame is nearly indestructable, but the chassis may as well be made of, well, cheese."

[AmazonBabe]

:: She was trying to mull al this over. ::

So, basically, someone's been stashing drugs in these delapidated vehicles to be picked up or shipped out?

:: She frowned. ::

And that bomb still doesn't make sense to me.

[Commander Zemil Vymes]

"Its called a dump. You set up a location, item, or person, to act as an intermediary on a transfer, with as little risk to either party as possible."

Vymes stood, and turned behind his desk, to activate a holomap.

"Ikowski district is north, northwest from Coco, along the Northern Corridor, to the Hemispheric hub. It intersects some key skylanes there. The heap is in the lower 100 levels, occupying an old skyscraper's superstructure. Most of this is an industrial sector, unlike Coco...so such eyesores can be tolerated. Its an open door for drug-runners and other goons. Figures they'd use the heap at some point, though my money's on finding a yardworker on their payroll. No sense in staging a dump, and have a few hundred tons of garbage dropped on top of it. Either that, or they know the schedule."

[Morgan Evanar]

Morgan nodded.

"The worker who extracted my stuff was laughing, and said something about the fact it would 'piss Protsky off to no end.' Argento Tebb, he ran the scrap dragger for me. Odd name for a Sulstan. Protsky works second shift, and leaves the place a mess. I'd guess he's on the payroll."

[Brielle Acaana]

If my comm beeps again, Im gonna -

*beep ............ beep*

She ignored it. Bent over her microscope, Brielle carefully added a tiny drop of metholdiazypm to the carefully concoted mixture on the slide then trained her green eye through the lens, watching for the reaction she hoped would be there.

Pouff!!

Brielle ducked her head and jumped back as the slide shattered and a small cloud of black/purple smoke rose from the table.

"I go through more slides that way...."

*beep .............. beep*

A scowl crossed her smooth features as she reached over and flipped the intercomm on. Normally, forensics specialist Acaana left her comm and speakers on - one had to in her line of work but when testing with sensitive chemicals she didnt like to be disturbed.

"This had better be good!"

[Corporal Nobei Knobs]

beeeeeep…beeeeeep

Nobei rounded a corner and unceremoniously ran into a woman carrying a stack of paper work – scattering the sheets to the floor. With profuse apologies he paused for a moment to help her clear up the mess he had created before gambolling his way on back down the corridor towards where the buzz of an unanswered comm. was coming from.

He didn’t make it his job to answer calls that other people didn’t want to (or normally couldn’t be bothered to) but in this case he literally had nothing better to do. Vymes was interviewing a couple upstairs, Lawson was out on patrol and Acaana was examining the evidence from one of the latest cases – and the staff donut supply was all out.

beeeeeep…beeeeeep

“I’m coming! I’m coming!” he rattled through partially clenched teeth as he slidded to a halt outside of the door that the sound was coming from. Just as he burst in through the door, the sound stopped.

Brielle was sitting waiting for a reply from the other end of the line, and Knobs was left standing in the doorway looking like a total nonce.

[Commander Zemil Vymes]

"Brielle...Nobei, just the people I wanna see."

Vymes tossed the vial and baggie to Brielle.

"Brielle...why is somebody packing Ryll and Todic Nitrate together. Uncut Ryll is fatal, and Todic Nitrate is a toxic stabilizer, without all the other dope in a death-stick cocktail. Is there something I'm out of the loop on? Is this just a coincidence, or a new designer cocktail?"

[Brielle Acaana]

Snatching the items out of the air, Brielle held them up to the light, one at a time, to take a closer look then gently ran the tips of her fingers over the bag.

"The Ryll hasnt been cut yet. It's still pure. You can tell because there hasnt been any crystalization in the powder which it has a tendency to do when mixed with most of the cheaper stabilizing agents used. I cant feel any in the bag."

Placing the baggie on the counter, Acaana carefully opens the small clear container, sniffing lightly. Vymes was right. Todic Nitrate. Nasty stuff.

Knobs was peering around the Commander, watching and listening since he had nothing better to do at the moment. It was for his benefit that Brielle launched into an explanation.

"The drug cartels want to make their products as cheap and fast as possible but want to get the best price they can. Right now one of the main ingredients for death sticks is Ryll but like I said, a lot of the powder will crystalize when cut with the stabilizers. Following me so far?"

Nobbei nodded solemnly and even Vymes was listening attentively.

"Alright. Now, the crystals could always be left in but then all the users would die from blood loss. The edges of the crystals are very sharp and cut into the mucus membranes or the blood vessels, depending on how the drug is taken. Dead users equal no profit. What the cartels are doing after cutting the Ryll is to run the powder on a conveyor through a roller which disintegrates a vast majority of the crystals. But - the conveyors and belts and rollers all cost money and they have to pay more workers to get the job done."

She looks from Vymes to Knobs and back to the commander again.

"You dont get it? Im betting that the Todic Nitrate is one of the few stabilizers that doesnt cause crystalization in the Ryll. No crystals, no rollers means less time and money spent on production and more credits in the bank. Theyve saved a whole step. It also means - if Im right - a fast, hard high and a higher rate of addiction. One of the ingredients in the nitrate is used as a tranquilizer for large - very large game animals. I think what we're looking at is a new 'stick' and a nasty one at that. Cheap to manufacture and easy to buy on the streets."

[Morgan Evanar]

"But... Todric Nitrate is almost pure poison." Morgan scratched his head.

"Pour some on your hand, you'll be vomiting for the next... three hours, depending. I'm not a chemist, though." He thought about it some more in the preceeding silence.

"But... oh goodness. The molecules line up perfectly. Not only would it be very potent, it would give you the least rejection possible. There would be no internal laceration." Brielle nodded gravely.

[AmazonBabe]

:: AB was no expert on drugs, save those that came from plants. But mined drugs were a horse of a different color to her. As for the Nitrate, all she knew about it was that it was a poison, pure and simple. ::

:: But she did understand what Acaana had to say, and Morgan's addition to her explaination made the situation even more grim. ::

[Commander Zemil Vymes]

"A new designer cocktail...and one that any college burnout with a kitchen stove can turn out, and do it cheaper than anyone else who was cutting death sticks before. Who stands to gain from this? Who's picking the table scraps on the drug trade? Who got cornered out of the hardcore market?

Nobbei...I want records on every small-time bust in the district that we've hit in the past six months. Especially the repeats. Cross-check for other offenses."

[Corporal Nobei Knobs]

When Vymes said something like that, you just knew it was going to end up being a long day. Put his suspicious together with Brielle’s findings and the indubitable fact that when he did search through the records something iffy would come up, it was obvious that they would be off on some new case within the hour.

Still, the Corporal did as he was told and scuttled off to the immense information hold that the Watch Yard possessed. In some ways, it was the place he least liked being. There were so many data-pads stacked so high it was quite possible that if the wind blew the wrong way you’d be crushed under a sudden avalanche of information.

The process of finding the data he needed right now was similar. Everything was held in chronological order, in sections for each type of offense - theft, murder, manslaughter, dangerous driving, and so on. Pulling out an access console, and logging into the great data bank, Nobei inputted the correct criteria and watched as the results flowed in. Fifteen returns matched Vymes requested, and when delved into further, four had been prosecuted previous - or after, even - these busts. Another portion had been one-time commuters, but Vymes always said that unless they were behind bars they would do it again.

"Here you go, sir," Knobs handed the print-off of results to Vymes.

"There’s a few familiar faces in there, sir, though I don’t think half of them would be smart enough to pull something like this off."

[Brielle Acaana]

Brielle peered back into her 'scope as Vymes tossed out his questions and thoughts. Sure, some college kids could make a batch or two at home - even the sweet old Grandma who lived next door to you could whip up a few sticks. But it made no sense as to why.

Even considering the cheap cost of the base ingredients, the time spent in drying the mixture would cancel out any profits made for the small time wannabe drug lords.

Brielle's heart began beating faster, just like it always did when something 'big' came along. And this was going to be big!

[Morgan Evanar]

Morgan looked hard at Vimes, and got a feeling he wasn't going to be included very much. He also figured that he wasn't buying the Jedi story, even though it was true.

He sighed.
"I get the feeling you're expecting me to leave now... but I can't. I'm involved, and its my responsibility to find out who rigged a bomb to scrap loaded with illegals." He closed his eyes, trying to remember. Slowly, the light around him began to shift and bend until Morgan had seemingly dissapeared, and suddenly, re-appeared.

"Its my duty as a Jedi."

[Commander Zemil Vymes]

"No...no...definitely not....maybe."

Vymes paused, as the Jedi played with special effects. Nonplussed, Vymes chomped on his cigar.

"Hey, that's nice. I know about a half dozen photoreplicating alien species, what are you trying to prove? Look, kid...you're right about being involved. And I need your help. Just...keep the hocus pocus at a minimum when I'm working."

Vymes returned to the photos, and eventually held one up.

"You recognize this scumbag?"

[AmazonBabe]

"Just...keep the hocus pocus at a minimum when I'm working."

:: The comment by Vymes caused AB to arch an eyebrow. It wasn't the first time she'd met a being who didn't much care for the Force, or possibly not believe in it, but it always bothered her how they seemed to underestimate it in one form or another. ::

:: Never the less, she remained silent, still standing slightly behind and to the right of Morgan. As Vymes held up the photo, she seemed to think the being in the photo looked familiar, but she could not place a name to the face. ::

[Morgan Evanar]

Kid. Morgan was thirty-four, almost thirty-five cycles. Nonetheless, he focused on the picture.

He closed his eyes, recounting his experince through the heap. No... no no nonononononono... the whole scene played about behind his closed eyelids, flicking to where he looked at people, freezing, and moving on.

Ah!

"I think he was starting his shift as I was leaving, walking into the west control room at about uhh... 1730 Coco?"

[Commander Zemil Vymes]

"Would you put money on it?"

Vymes slid the photo across the desk to Morgan.

"A Jedi eyewitness would be enough collateral to loosen some strings for me to work. That heap is owned by the Sesswana Techno Union, so I need to push pretty hard to get scum to budge down there. So, if you're sure enough to put money on it, that's good enough for me."

[Brielle Acaana]

Leaning over and peering between the arms of the two Jedi, Brielle frowned as she ran the picture through her memory.

Nothing.

The male Jedi seemed to recall a familiarity, which was extremely helpful. It helped Vymes with the case.

Standing up, she smiles a bit apologetically to the others.

"I dont want to sound rude but Id really like to give these another going over. There still might be something Ive overlooked."

With a polite nod, she glanced at the commander before returning to the 'scope.

"I'll yell if I find anything new."

[Morgan Evanar]

Morgan smiled.

"Oh, I'm certain thats him. I'm just not certain it was 1730. Might have been more like 1745." Vimes blinked in a way that told him this was superflous.

[AmazonBabe]

:: AL AB could do was smile lopsidely at Morgans answer. He had a good memory... when it wasn't tampered with. ::

:: She watched as the female named Brielle went back to her examinations, looking for anything she may have missed. As for the Commander, he seemed to be mulling over what Morgan had just said. ::

[Brielle Acaana]

Nothing new was showing through the 'scope but that didnt neccesarily mean there wasnt. Brielle tapped her chin with one finger. Maybe the lighting wasnt strong enough..no....maaaybe it was the wrong lighting.

The other people temporarily forgotten, Acaana fetched a wide spectrum lamp and set it beside the 'scope. Gluing one eyeball to the view-hole, Bri methodically switched from one spectrum to another as she watched for any reaction to the chemicals on the slide.

[Commander Zemil Vymes]

"Anything in the 1700's down that far is probably crooked as hell. I've got a hunch. That isn't so much as important as matching the face."

Vymes stood up, and on a matter of instinct, checked the charge capacity on his pistol he carried in a dog-leg holster.

"The question now, is how to make sure the fish aren't spooked, and get em to bite again."

He eyed up Morgan.

"You seem to know your way around a grease shop, if you're digging around the heap for parts instead of trouble. Think you can play a bit part?"

[Morgan Evanar]

"Aye. I do it as a hobby. Wasn't much else to do on Taanab." He lifted an eyebrow. Vymes apparently wanted him to front as a mechanic.

"For how long, and where?"

[AmazonBabe]

:: AB's lips pursed tightly together into a straight line. She wasn't entirely happy about Morgan playing a "bit part" in an attempt to catch someone in the act. But, she knew Morgan was quite capable of taking care of himself, and if Vymes was in on it, he'd also see to Morgan's safety. ::

:: She may be a Jedi, but she was more than entitled to worry. ::

:: She however said nothing and listened as the two conversed about the when's, how's, and where's. ::

[Brielle Acaana]

Nothing out of the ordinary - no changes, no reactions - nothing.

Sitting up straight, Brielle put both hands on the small of her back and stretched, relieving a cramp that had been building from her time bent over the 'scope.

She would have to inform Vymes that the chemicals were exactly what they appeared to be, no more and no less. It irked her just a bit that she hadnt found anything but it happened now and then. This was a case where her expertise wouldnt be needed, at least not now.

Rising from the stool, Acaana popped her head through the commanders half open door and waited for him to look up.

"Nothing, boss, not a thing. If you wont be needing me, my shift is over and Im ready to head home."

[Commander Zemil Vymes]

"Go ahead and take off. I think we're all straight there."

Vymes nodded knowingly at Brielle's tired eyes.

"Keep your comm pager on. There's no telling what we might find."

As Brielle exited, Vymes turned back to Morgan.

"If you're ready, I'll take you down to the impound lot."

I glanced to Nobbei, who fumbled for a moment and tossed me an electronic key.

"Don't ask what we've got, cause I don't know till I get there. But there's a good bit of it that can muscle with our squad speeders.

I'll conveniently forget to lock up tonight, and you can take them off our hands. You've got two weeks. Sell what you don't need, and make what's left worth top dollar. Whatever you have to do to make it look convincing, as long as you don't frell up my neighborhood, I'll let it slide. Just make it convincing. Get as close to gutter trash as you can, and pick up the stink. It'll keep you alive."

[Morgan Evanar]

Apparently, there was a shortage of skilled labor regarding speeders in the criminal community.

Either that, or the going rate was a lot more than he was charging. Fix it, chop it, strip it, or sell it. He'd take a speeder to the frame in less than two hours.

Covered in grease and soot from head to foot, Morgan looked mean. Coupled with his silent, no dren from anyone demanor, he had earned himself the nickname of Silent Yuri. Yuri was apparently a popular character in a crime family holodrama.

"I don't watch holos." he explained, stripping a power relay out.

Ourinai, a regular car booster, sort of shrugged. "Eh, its really well written. And the cast is..."

"Don't have time for it. Eat, sleep, strip speeders. Beat it."

Very rarely was there any artistry in speeder theivery. He suspected the really good ones did the whole process themselves. Right now he was dealing with the hacks, the guys who were boosting for some blow or deathsticks. Scum that was just smart enough to hotwire and drive.

Morgan had paid for his run-down warehouse outright. One months rent, extra cash, no extra questions. Speeders drifted in and out for fourteen hours of the day after the first week.

Apparently the gutter had taken a liking to him.

[AmazonBabe]

:: AB felt awkward. She'd agreed to go under cover with Morgan so as to watch his back if the need should arrise, but she hadn't really expected this. She was chewing bubblegum, wearing a very tight top that left her arms bare and showed her belly, with a pair of greasy baggy pants. Her bright hair was up and twirled under a cap, wispy strands escaping near her ears and neck. If anything, she looked like the assistant, or equivilant, to whoever would work in a strip joint. And thusly, she fit in. ::

:: But, even though she felt awkward and completely out of her element (even tinkering with her snub fighter wasn't anywhere near like this), she played the part off. ::

"Hey Janny! Where's my sandwhich?!"

:: And then there was the other part of the job. While she didn't mind at all answering to Morgan, she didn't much like the tone he had to use for the part. But, it was only a part, and not the real thing. She had to keep reminding herself of that. ::

:: Looking every bit annoyed at having to answer to Morgan's "character's" voice, she stepped forth from the back room, a cracked plate in hand with a meat on meat sandwhich on top. In a few long strides, she was next to her companion's roll-away tool cabinet, and set the plate down on it with a loud thunk. She didn't even give the other man standing there speaking with Morgan a second glance. ::

Here.

:: The minute she'd set the plate down and spoken, she'd already turned to go back to the back room. Her voice carried off with her as she took the few long strides back to the room. ::

I'm gonna go watch the hollovid.

:: Morgan had just enough time to roll out from whatever he was stripping from the current speeder, to see the sandwhich, see AB round the corner of the door that led into the back room, only to yell back. ::

"Hey! What about the beer?!"

:: The answer came back from inside. ::

Get it yerself!

[Sanis Prent]

I'd barely made planetside, and I was already slumming it. It wasn't exactly an existance alien to me. I'd grown up in the slums, and gotten my street education in the finest possible way. It wasn't something you'd embrace, but you never hesitated to dive in again, when it suited you. The stink of it isn't so bad when you're born into the cesspool. I'd docked Layla down, and took the first transport down to level 129 Coco. That far down the cityscape, society stopped caring about you...which wasn't necessarily a bad thing. Not exactly a place to take Navaria out on a date, but I didn't exactly invite her along. This was something I had to do, and she didn't need to know about it.

"Krasst."

The place was a dive. Corrugated durasteel seemed to grow rust like dragon scales on the wall, giving the warehouse a nefarious "life" of it's own...like the stuff of the city rising again as a recycled zombie. Of course, it was wedged amidst three dozen warehouses that all showed the same degrees of neglect, and each with their own nostalgic charm. The vermin scurried along the pedestrian lanes...sentient or not. Pest control on the lower levels blurred the line between a fumigator and an assassin. After all, people seem to stop caring the closer to the surface you get.

I glanced to the side, catching the eye of a cream-colored Twi'leki whore, strung out on Black Ryll. She sauntered over to me, lekku reaching forward. I put some distance.

"Sorry lady, not buying today."

Her orange eyes narrowed venomously, and she spat a few snide alien remarks at me as she returned to her shadowed alcove. I shrugged off her direct proposition, and lit up a stim, letting it smooth my thoughts and get my on the level. In the distance, I heard blaster fire. Might as well be a thunderclap or a speeder horn.

I double-checked my info. This was the place. If it wasn't, I didn't want to check the other crapholes on the lane. All the crap of the world amalgamated into one endless heap of garbage, and you could quickly find yourself lost in the tide. And that could translate to dead. It had better be the place, at any rate. I wasn't on Coruscant for sight seeing, and Navaria was two hundred levels up, and would have to wait.

The race was in a week, and I didn't have a pony to win the purse on. What I did have was money, connections, and enough testicular fortitude to ride whatever it took to win. From what I was told, I could find the right kind of assistance in this rusted prefabricated dive.

I knocked on the door, which seemed to fleck away some of the residual rust.

"I was looking for the public library"

If I was in the right place, the door should open easily enough to that.

[Morgan Evanar]

The Jedi thumbed his com transmitter. "We're a porn shop, scram."

"That suits me fine." The voice sounded errily familiar, but since he was trying to be in a dive, it was mangled by the comm system.

Morgan threw a bad inverter at the door release from underneath the . It smacked the red button with a crunch. He pulled himself out from under the speeder as the visitor walked in.

Sanis Prent. Morgan's jaw abruptly moved left, skewing his face. This could be very bad, if Sanis decided to rat him out. With Prent, everyone had a price, except for Navaria.

"...Prent?" Then again, Morgan had that trump card: Navaria. The Jedi Master raised an eyebrow that somewhat blended into his grease stained face.

"Interesting. What do y' need?"

[AmazonBabe]

:: AB had heard the muffled call from the door chime over a very staticy speaker in the back room. She'd smacked it a few times to clear it, but it hadn't heeded to her abuse. ::

:: Knowing Morgan had more than likely taken care of the call, she peeked through the window showing the bay from the back room, pulling back a greasy and torn drape. ::

:: From where she was, she'd seen the door open, but couldn't make out who the individual was until he came into the light Morgan was working in. Her breath caught in her throat and she immediately let the drape fall from her fingers. Sanis Prent... at their temp shop, no less. She immediately thought of Navaria, her good friend and collegue of the Jedi Order, and wondered if she knew where Prent was. But that wasn't their immediate problem. ::

:: If Prent recognized Morgan, what would he do? Best not to show herself at this point. Two Jedi working at a strip shop would look very odd. ::

:: All she could hope for was that Morgan knew what he was doing. ::

[Sanis Prent]

If I didn't realize I was on the lower levels before, I did now. It seemed every grease-stained hoodie or wrench-head knew who I was, to some degree. My name had gotten ahead of me once more. Anyways, I wasn't down here to sign autographs to speeder jockeys who might have heard of a time when I burned some big name on the lower level lanes.

"Take a picture, it'll last longer. Other than that, I'm looking for somebody who knows heads from tails on a Mandal Motors J7942. Not the X4, but the X2...so if you're hocking that stamp-press conversion pack, I'm looking for the cold-hammered kit, and nothing short of it."

I glanced past him, and at the vast array of hardware he had strewn about. I looked back to him, and frowned. He was looking at me in a way that made me think he had me at a disadvantage.

"I've also got a few other things on a list. That's just the big one. I'd like to do all my shopping in one spot, and I'm on a time budget."

[Morgan Evanar]

Prent's memory wasn't as good as Morgan's. He didn't remember the little Myrkr expedition a few years ago.

"I'm a SoroSuub guy, but I don't sell dren here. I'm guessing you're having a foward relay balance issue. The front steering thrusters tend to be intermittent on the X2, and they only frelled it worse with the X4. I don't sell the cold hammer kit. I sell milled setups. And I have forced cooling for the 42." Sanis relaxed a touch.

"What kind of time are we looking at here? I can have something fabbed in two days, once I have the speeder. The stock stuff tends to lag you off the line."

[Sanis Prent]

"Milled? What stresses can your valves handle?"

I was cautiously optimistic. Aside from a few minor details, the guy seemed to know his head from his backside, in speeder-speak.

"I'm pushing a passive fusion injector. Nothing less than 10k psi."

I kept a straight face.

"Yes or no. No BS here. If you can handle the stresses, I can overnight ship the reactor in, but I need you to be crystal on this."

I reached into my pocket, and pulled out a 50k chit.

"This is for starters. Lets think baby steps."

[Morgan Evanar]

"It'll take 30 in a pinch, or if you feel like replacing the whole injection setup every few months." Morgan stated flatly. "And at 18 it will run long after you or I are dead. Thats without an intermediate flow controller."

He looked down at the chit. Sanis was serious.

"Is it stock, or do I have to fix someone else's mess?"

[Sanis Prent]

"It's modded, but it's my handiwork, so if you need the scoop on what I've got and where it's going, I can lay it out in detail. I've expanded the load-bearing section on the frame, and pulled out the ramscoop, because that can be optimized. I've seen corellian shop-jobs less than 50 cubic inches, so meet or beat that, and we're good on space up top."

[Morgan Evanar]

"Inches?" Morgan sighed. "Nevermind. I'll pull a conversion table. Damn Huttenese arbitrary measurement crap. But it can be done. As long as you haven't gone too deep, I shouldn't have any problems."

"Yeah, it can be done, but when its done, you might want to keep your foot out of it in the twisties. A right modded 42 can be a weapon. I'll keep the curve smooth on it, so you won't be in and out of power."