Contractual Piracy (Denoel Quane)

[Grym Kandle]

To be honest to himself, the morning always seemed just like the evenings at the Cloud City, same kind of lighting nearly, the bustle of the casinos did not change much, and no one ever really seemed to sleep.

Some never woke up.

Grym Kandle sat in a chair eating something that might have been breakfast. The bowl of nutrient sop was about all he could stomach sometimes. He went to a restaurant now and then and ate legitimately delicious food, but the frailties of his habits would exact their own revenge later. His mask was set to the side at the table and he leaned back to stretch, the loose black robe wrapped around his sensitive skin to keep even the breeze of the air conditioning from brushing his skin. His face stung. It always stung after waking. As if the scars and markings would all come undone upon his face like torn paper. The black and green scars and veins stretched across his skin like marble and cracks. His shaking hand almost had the next spoonful up to his mouth before there was a chime. The display built into the table indicated that his next appointment had just landed at docking bay 117.

"Denoel Quane..."

Grym couldn't manage to get the spoon to his mouth and he dropped it out of frustration. Layer after layer of regimented practice immediately began to settle upon his mind as he eased it away. The frustration was buried beneath mantras in moments but instead of going again for the food, Grym reached for the medical device on the other side of the table. He slid it against his skin just beneath his left collar bone and pressed down. It beeped once before injecting the device's contents. The mantras faded quickly as the glitterstim hit his heart like a mag train.

To stand beneath a dark star and become beholden to it. The black core of it blasting the glass dust plains. The star descends and the woman and her friends, her crew are immolated.

"Sir?"

Kandle opened his eyes, sitting cross legged in his training room, a room that while all the implements were put away was void of any sign of occupation. It was bare, with marble flooring and black walls that seemed to absorb the lighting from the ceiling.

"Sir?"

He became aware of his attendant, Min'karo, a twi'lek woman he honestly rarely ever saw. She had other duties and all of them administratively important to him as a Vigo here on Cloud City but the petite, green-skinned woman had a startling good way of staying out from underneath his feet. He sometimes forgot that she still worked for him specifically at times.

"What?"

"Ms. Quane is in the turbo-lift headed here to the office you arranged for. You should leave now and go meet her there."

He stood fluidly, fully dressed, mask on.

"Why are you here and not there then, Min'karo?"

She seemed flustered, as if this occurred frequently or something.

"Sir, you told me two days ago that you would be here and that I would have to tell you exactly what I just told you at this exact time."

"Did I tell you to say that too?"

She did not respond. The lack of emotion on Grym's mask successfully hid the puzzlement beneath it as she stormed out of the room. He followed her but she was nowhere to be seen when he opened the door to the hallway. He glanced around and then shrugged. To the office.

[Denoel Quane]

"Sure you don't me to go with you," Colin inquired, seemingly concerned for her well being.

"I'll be fine." Denoel finished getting herself ready for the meeting with one of the leaders of Black Sun, her hair combed out and face clean. Turning the light off over the sink in her hotel room, she pushed past him and into the main room to the right. "Quit worrying. Should be more concerned about keeping the rest of the crew out of jail."

"Well," he glanced off, toward the distant window that looked out over the atmosphere of the gas giant that the city hovered over. "You're easier to keep track of."

Slipping on her coat, she flicked her hair over the collar, then moved toward the door and opened it. "Seeya."

"Yep," he replied, then turned as she waited at the door and realized he was in her room instead of his own, jerking into motion and joined her in the main hallway. "Good luck."

Chuckling lightly, the pirate shook her head as she turned and headed for the turbolift. "Better to be good instead. Luck's never done nothing for me in the past."

"Just a saying, geez."

Smiling, she continued on to the lift and then entered once the doors slid to either side. She hoped that the crew didn't get themselves into too much trouble, regardless of how much there was to do in the entertainment district here. Almost as bad as some parts of Nar Shaddaa, she mused. Thoughts drifted to the variety of things that they had seen and done the past few months, being independent not nearly as profitable as joining this large syndicate who's fingers reached across the galaxy, it seemed. Everyone had heard of it and most never wanted to meet anyone a part of the criminal empire. And now she was a part of this machine.

Be leaving that out of coms to the folks.

Soon, the doors slid open and she walked into the lobby of an apartment, surprised as she expected a hallway. "Huh." Continuing on, she soon noticed a Twi'lek approach. "Hi. I'm supposed to meet the Vigo. Denoel...."

"I know who you are," the petite alien interrupted, then motioned deeper into the large home. "He's waiting for you in there." Walking away, the apparent assistant seemed rather upset or distracted.

"Thanks." Denoel then continued across the main hallway and into the room which now appeared to be a large office. Brown eyes then found her host, a sight that gave her a moment of pause. "Hi. Denoel Quane, pleasure," she introduced.

[Grym Kandle]

Grym had actually just arrived in his office himself but his stance beside the desk appeared as if he had been standing there forever. His mask nodded slightly as she introduced herself, his voice no different than usual, emitted with no emotion whatsoever.

"Pleasure indeed. Ms. Quane. I am Vigo Kandle. And you are reportedly a space pirate. References? Tell me about your crew. How many jobs has your crew pulled off?"

Slow down, let her process that doubt in her capabilities. She looks like she showers too long and too often to be a smuggler. That's why.

He never shifted or moved as he spoke. Still as a statue. Large predators, typically of a feline nature, had a way of standing so still before they struck, some prey barely noticed the predator at all, while others became paralyzed with fear when the realization sunk in.

[Denoel Quane]

Mouth not moving on the face of the one before her, but she kept her cool regardless. "References," she inquired, grinning wryly. "Have to ask the CSA and a few private owners. Insurance paid them, so they're not hurting anymore. Typically, my crew of five don't leave witnesses, makes things a lot easier when a patrol stops by after we're gone." Unsure if the one she was talking to now was actually real, equipped with a voice modulator as the real vigo was reclining in his bathtub, she toned down her pride.

"We've been together now for four months and they're all competent in their fields. Largest take we made was three weeks ago when we hit a large HT Twenty-Two Hundred having engine problems. Netted over four hundred thousand that all had to be fenced in several different places." Angling her head slightly downward and to the right, "Talked to Black Sun's rep on Vinsoth last week and he pointed us to you."

[Grym Kandle]

I don't really do the office thing very well.

Grym abruptly moved to the front of the desk and leaned against it, crossing one leg over the other with both hands behind him.

"I have two jobs for you then. One to smuggle; another to raid. Three weeks to accomplish both. I'll add a bonus if you can manage that."

A simple kavasa fruit-stick method for new initiates. So far Kandle had only put the kavasa fruit on the offering plate.

[Denoel Quane]

He moved, she mused and knew now that it was real. Or perhaps an impressive, life-sized puppet. "Smuggle," she chewed over that word for a moment. "Okay. Details?" Having only conversed with those adept at various things required for smuggling, she knew enough to keep them out of trouble at least and hoped that the massive cargo space that she had to work with could be stocked with enough to hide whatever they were going to be transporting. They would make it work.

[Grym Kandle]

"The smuggling job is to Ord Cantrell. The cargo is small and light but to remain untouched. Opening it, handling it roughly, or really doing much of anything to it will result in damaging the contents which means you owe us for the price of the cargo and three months of its production output. That cargo can only travel for five days before the cargo expires. Payment is transferred in full upon delivery. Your cut is 80,000 for delivery. Rather simple job, honestly. Just avoid the Imperials."

Easy. Too easy.

"The raiding job. I need you to hit Hutt-affiliated transports moving out of Kessel. I don't have many specifics on that one; you'll have to work your own angles but I can provide some leads. You cannot claim allegiance to the Black Sun and you're hits have to be discreet. I'll pay 50,000 forward and then another 50,000 for each ship you hit. The cargo you reave is yours to do with what you want, so factor that in as further incentive."

Grym folded his arms across his chest, rolling his neck to gently crack it, exposing the green tinged flesh of his throat momentarily, laced with black-green scars and veins.

"If it's too much, say so."

​She won't.

[Denoel Quane]

Transporting something that would take five days from here was going to push them to the limits of their hyperdrive, but it was definitely within reach. She then listened to the details of the raid which was going to make Dirk happy that he could shoot something again, though she also hoped that they would be able to do this without being shot at until they were on their way out. Having the cargo to fence only moved her to reply to the affirmative. "Sounds good. Who do I hand this box off to once I get there?"

Avoiding Imperial inspections or a boarding was going to be the fun part, but they typically remained in the spacelanes and major trade routes anyway. Rangers, however....

[Grym Kandle]

"One of my personal operatives will be there to receive it. You just need to get the cargo through and out of the port to an exchange point that will be relayed to you once you've successfully passed through security."

Simple, right? Introduce stick.

"Three weeks. I'll throw an extra 100,000. If you fail to do it in that time, you risk desynchronizing other operations and meetings I have. Which means for every day after three weeks you will incur a debt of 75,000 credits. Your initial quota on the raids is at least four ships, which is doable for any reasonably competent space pirate."

Pirating business deserved to have some high stakes attached. Plenty of good business there with the right crew but the scheme at play here was galactic in scope and Grym's ulterior motives from the second and third order effects...

Not like this is your only hand in play either. Betting on only one hand when you have four spots at the table was an amateur's game. Only the Hutts and the Black Sun have that kind of staying power.

[Denoel Quane]

Having a penalty staring her in the face was some unique scare tactic, but she understood that pressure on the Hutts was serving some other purpose and being the one that could pull off something like this was going to make a name for her and the crew. All they had to do was keep from being caught while attempting to capture another. Mentally logging all these details in, the college graduate was now glad that she had a business mind as the costs of running their ship, crew and fueling all came into play. Hopefully her time here before they left would offer an avenue to secure their money regardless of how this all played out.

"Three weeks, got it," she replied distractedly, then returned her gaze to his masked face. "Only thing I might ask is if you have a name of a trustworthy fence in that part of the Outer Rim. We're not going to be able to get here and back within that time before hitting the next one and I'd rather have room for the booty from the next ship." She also couldn't spare any crew to fly the prizes out either.

[Grym Kandle]

"There's no such thing as a trustworthy fence, and definitely not in Hutt space but I'm sure you'll make it work. Check out with my attendant on your way out, she might be able to help."

Or not.

"Remember, no affiliation with Black Sun while raiding. Say you were hired on by the Tenloss Syndicate for all I care. But if you're making excuses, you're probably too far gone by then anyways. I look forward to seeing the money wired to your accounts after a successful take in three weeks."

Grym lifted an arm, motioning to the doors behind her which opened seemingly of their own accord. Or Min'karo had been responsible as she stepped into the doorway with a smile that barely hid her impatience.

[Denoel Quane]

Being dismissed, Denoel was used to being hired by those with little patience and need to get on with the next order of business, so the pirate rose and moved toward the overly cheery assistant. Knowing that most of their runs had to be kept quick and quiet, Denoel also knew this wasn't going to be a walk in the park either. Especially that close to Hutt space which was gaining a reputation for being more active than it used to be. But, in their favor rumor had it that the Hutts were also campaigning to retake some of their worlds that had been lost some years back. Rumor mills being what they were, she took that news with a grain of salt as she walked out with the Twi'lek who closed the doors to Grym's private office.

Gaining several possible names for contacts near Hutt Space, Denoel was quickly off to get her crew back on track and hoped that the ship was ready to go shortly. They had a lot of time to make up and a delivery to make.