Angelo's Fury: The Job (Cozen)

[Carl Simons]

It was well past seven in the evening and the rain battered hard upon the Coruscant surface. The Museum however was alive, its windows gleaming out into the nights sky and the building lit up like a christmas tree as the search lights lit the front of the establishment up. Guest after guest entered the front of the building via speeder-limos and other presidential modes of transports, some even landed upon the top of the Museum, it was a big night for the trust commitee.

Within the entrance hall of the building stood a man, vastly known as Carl Simons, smoking his usual Stim. He had been let through on a VIP pass but it was all fake of course, he had never been invited. On one side of him stood a rather large gentleman, no doubt his guard as Carl was not allowed to bring his Katana into the museum, which was a shame.

Carl was here for one thing...

To see how the boy faired.

[Cozen Dagett]

Unlike Simons, I hadn’t been given a VIP pass into the museum. This was, he had explained, because he wanted to properly test my abilities. Now, I’m a fairly industrious guy, but a ticket into the exhibit would really have helped. Of course, I wouldn’t let a little issue like this stop me. I’d taken the time to do a little research before arriving and had found out some fairly useful facts.

It turns out that an old friend of mine is working guard duty at the museum now. Edhi was a small time pickpocket for a while, before the Watch picked him up and threw him into a rehabilitation scheme. For once, it seems like the system worked. Now, I wasn’t able to get my hands on shift schedules for the guards, but word has it that light-fingered Edhi will be part of the extended security unit keeping watch over the museum during the stay of the prestigious de Angelo. I'm sure I can find some way to turn this to my advantage.

A reliable informant had supplied me with a few details on the museum itself, which I checked against the rain-splattered data pamphlet in my hands. Apparently, during the pieces stay, the museum would also be taking in other exhibits to compliment the statue. Minor pieces, of course, that paled in comparison to the main display – but that wasn’t the point. Shipments were coming in from all across the hub, and with a little digging I’d managed to find out the depot that the museum was using.

I’d arrived an hour or so before the museum began to fill and snuck inside one of the storage areas. With a little patience, I managed to stow myself away inside one of the boxes that was headed to the museums basement. The guards working at the depot weren’t particularly observant, and from the way they handled the art didn’t seem too bothered about what it was they were packing, so long as they were paid. After a rather bumpy speeder ride, the crates were dumped at the museum, where the curate and other employees would no doubt be awaiting their arrival.

Luckily enough, I managed to clamber out of my hideaway just as staff were arriving – slinking into the shadows to avoid detection. So here I was, inside. Floors above, Simons would no doubt be sipping champagne and exchanging bitter pleasantries with the guests. I still had a lot of work to do.

[Reign Ta-Orn]

The rain was hard, every droplet felt like a ball of steel felting across the back and the wind gusted like the storm was brewing sole on the museum itself. Upon the roof of next building over from the museum stood a figure upon the ledge, hooded and cloaked from the hardning rain.

In the figures hand's was a rifle of some kind, it looked rusted and over used and attached to the side of it was a great reel of rope with some kind of grapple or hook upon its end. The figure stood for a few moments, as if contemplating his next venture and then, seemingly without thinking, he raised the rifle and fired.

The rope shot of through the hazzardious night sky and towards the upper lip of the museums roof. The speed of it was incredible and before long the grapple hit home and smacked hard against the stone ridge of the museums roof with a soft mettalic clang.

The three razor sharp metal prongs instantly dug into the stone and set hard. Pulling the rope right the hooded gentleman, more of the stature of a boy, placed the rifle upon the roof of the building he was on and bolted it to the ground with the help of magnetic struts that held the weapon to the durasteel plate.

Wrapping a cord around his hands he prepared to slide the lengh of the rope across a ravine that spanned across a seeminly bottomless height that fell towards the underground streets of the fogotton earth of Coruscant.

[Cozen Dagett]

I had a few options, all of which had their flaws. As I ran over them in my mind, I watched the doorway that lead out of the basement and into the upper echelons. After what seemed like forever, a figure entered – spilling light from the stairway above into the room. I was torn over what to do, and didn’t make my mind up until the very last moment – when the attendant was standing mere feet away from me.

Thump- he hit the floor unconscious. I pulled the body into the shadows, quickly working at removing any identification he had. Someone would notice this one missing within a matter of minutes, so I had to act quickly. Luckily for me, the museum didn’t have any specific uniform it adhered to, per say, outside of the shirt the worker wore. I pulled my own clothes away, replacing them with those I had just looted. I smoothed down my hair and clipped the ID pass he had worn onto my shirt. It wasn’t an identical match, of course, but we shared features – enough that it would, at a glance, be acceptable.

“Hurry up with that stuff down there!”

I jumped. Had to keep my cool. Getting to my feet, I leant over the box I had been packed into earlier and scooped out a vase of some kind. Better hope I don’t drop this, I thought, as I made towards the stairs. The light hit me and I saw my newly acquired co-worker up ahead. He squinted at me for a moment, as though he wasn’t sure if something was right, before barking off something about me taking all night. He should have thought himself lucky he wasn’t the one laying naked in the basement.