Running through the Shadows (Damon, Open)

[Ryloth Grimhammer]

The numbers were crunching in his head, the calculations aided by the whirling machinery implanted in his head, and occasionally corrected by the software running in the drone. A database for ship movements and personnel transfers for the entire Alliance would be massive. No doubt they would not have a complete copy on board the station. Just whatever current information they needed access too. No doubt even the Alliance wasn't stupid enough to think they could store it all here without issues. The Empire undoubtedly had spies thick as thieves in here. He wasn't entirely unconvinced that Damon was not a spy himself, or somehow Empire adjacent no matter what he said. However, the fact that he was looking for a single ship, a single entry for an individual crewman. That would narrow things down. Less fishing, more crunching.

And that was exactly what his speed is. Smashing your way in and taking the whole server with you was not always the best option. That's a lot of heat later on when your trying to find what you need. He was good at finding exactly what he needed. Sure, it was rare for it to be so small a data entry. Normally it would be a whole project's data, or an entire security system. This was not finding a needle in a haystack. This was finding a grain of rice in the dunes of Tattooine. Still, the cards were definitely stacked in his favor. He had the equipment needed to comb through that much data, and it was already part of his head. The deck and drone were just gravy on the biscuit. The hardest part is going to be getting access to the system itself, not finding the data.

And that didn't even speak of just how much of a challenge this was, and how much bragging rights he would have afterwards. It had him licking his dry lips.

"Ya got me there. I'll do it."

[Damon Void]

Void's hand relaxed against the table as the words echoed in the confined storage room. The metal box of a room was packed to nearly the brim with junk and bits of scrap and trade he'd collected since he first started the business. It was a good place to tinker. It was a better place to do business, especially with someone with as much integrated tech as his new associate.

Little more than 3 meters end to end and top to bottom, it was a cramped, confined square of a box, and buried dead center in it was an Old Republic EMP grenade. He'd gotten it in trade from some twitchy little spacer who had clearly been running from something or someone. He'd actually taken a hit on that trade, letting go of a targeting system that he knew was worth several hundred credits more than a bit of Republic war surplus was. But it was a perfect fit for his needs, so he'd justified it to himself. The effective radius of one of these old droid poppers was 3 meters. Edge to edge and top to bottom, the entire room was a weapon if things had gone south during negotiation, but it hadn't - and he felt comfortable pushing the remote out from under his palm and back into the various piles of scrap that littered the table - indistinguishable from any of his other collected junk.

With it pushed out of sight and the immediate danger over he raised his right hand and extended it to Ryloth. "Excellent. I can get you the details of the job as soon as we get back to my shop."

[Ryloth Grimhammer]

"Preem."

His red lens examined the hand for a moment before he reached up and took the younger man's hand. It was the kind of motion that would get you gutted and your chrome salvaged in the mean streets of Sattle. It was such a sanitized motion, the kind you would expect from corposlaves as they jerk themselves off in their cubicle prisons. It was a good way to get yourself mistaken for some corpo dipshit trying to fly on the downlow. In the streets you existed on reputation, and with that reputation came trust and respect. Honorable agreements like handshakes were for gonks.

Ryloth was, if nothing else, adaptable to the situation.

"Lead th'way. Sooner we do this the sooner I'm out of ye debt."

He didn't like not having his new deck squared away but that could come after. It was going to take him awhile to prepare for the op regardless. He hadn't come to Jovan with the expectation of pulling an op here. The exact opposite, in fact. So now he needed to do intel runs, walk the area, find access points, figure out what kind of security he was up against, vulnerabilities and exploits, and then finally put together a plan that employs all of that and building a deck custom for just that operation. He'd no doubt spend a few hours alone just trawling the darknet looking for any intel he could find on Alliance tech specs and what kind of operating systems they typically run. Find out exactly who built this station, and in what era. What's factory, what was brought in by whomever has owned it all these years. This wasn't always an Alliance operation. They haven't even been around for long, and if anything was true about this strange galaxy is that everything changes.

All. The. Time.

[Damon Void]

Void grinned wide, a salesman's grin. He knew he probably looked like the kind of scum shorty despised, but that was part of the disguise. He really had taken to his new life after spending so long in the slums of Coruscant by himself. Who knew he was a people person, yeah? He motioned for the door and opened things up to let Ryloth walk by, taking stride in step beside him a moment later, and locking up behind him. He'd need to start going over his own blueprints for the space when they got back, figuring how to install a false flooring and wall, how to make at least a 3rd of the damn space look completely inaccessible without it being painfully obvious. It would take some work, but the end result was going to be mint.

"Glad we could work something out." He said as they walked, heading back on the same path they'd originally traveled to get here. "Have to admit, I'm kinda buzzin' about this right now. A lot of my work is lower end these days, which is... kinda boring. I mean good credit, don't get me wrong, but this is gonna be ace." Running a 'respectable' place on Jovan made him good money, skimming numbers from the slug races made him steady credit, plus all his side projects, the scams, the stuff Sin called in with, but he hadn't cut his teeth on any serious work for too long.

[Ryloth Grimhammer]

The kid was excited, and it was making Ryloth all the more uneasy with the situation. Excited types tend to attract attention, or make mistakes.

With the Drone in tow floating behind him on it's repulsor engine, he was able to see a lot more than previously. The whole route back to the shop was mapped and recorded. Surrounding shops and points of interest marked. It often paid off to know exactly what was around you at all times. It made for quick escapes just as much as it did paths of attack. A quick sediment scan for material and depth can be the difference between knowing you can shoot some gonk through a wall or not, and he preferred the kind of firepower that can make that happen.

"You do what you gotta do in this business. So long as you aren't selling out and becoming some gonk wageslave or slimy corpo samurai, you'll be alright. The galaxy always needs more fixers. Good ones, at least. Not everyone can be Molly Black or the Emerald Lady, but it's still honest work."

[Damon Void]

Void just kept smiling, that same plastered on grin he'd had, no falter to it, no drop. Inside he was howling with laughter, Honest work? Honest work. HONEST work? Everyone views themselves as the hero, sure, but he would never classify what he does as honest, and while he didn't know his new friend as well as he'd like, he doubted he'd classify his that way either - but that was his cross to bare. Let him think what he wants to think. Void'll just go on being Void, as he always has.

"Keep on Keeping on, man. I respect that."

He finally said as they traced their way back to the shop, Void stepped up and unlocked the place, letting Ryloth in before turning back to lock the door behind them again. Discretion was probably the right call for the moment at least, he returned to his spot behind the counter and went to work punching in some numbers into a pad. Totals, expectations, costs. This whole business was going to be a definite money-maker, once the necessary changes to the storage room was made, but that was looking to be a lot of upfront cost, cost he'd basically taken onto his own back to make this happen. Dren, this was gonna tank his reserves. Whatever, he shouldn't dwell on the cost, he can just make that back later with a few new side ventures. Maybe hit Sin up for an advance on whatever job they'll need next. Sith weirdo always seems to have credits to blow.

"So how do you want to do this?" he finally asked, looking up. "We both know the arrangement now, and I doubt either of us want data records of this agreement so... handshake?" He extended one palm downward across the countertop. "And I'll get you what you need, and get out of your way."