Chambered Ambition (Nor Vallis introduction)

[Colton Hunter]

Colt chuckled softly, then crossed his arms in quite contemplation.

"Well now, if I told you where I got my money, you'd either assume I'm the honest sort, who decided to go to some place of ill-repute in an attempt to hire some unsavory sorts, which would make me an easy mark, and then you could go and collect, said credits... or worse, that could mean I was lying about what I had in an attempt to bait you in some way," he paused, "Or, I could refrain from telling you the where and the who and instead get right to the what," he paused.

"Smuggling is just perfect, and as a matter of fact, I know a few people who may be interested on Tatooine of all places, I have some supplies that needs to be moved to a few worlds--" he paused, "In perhaps the most dangerous sectors in the galaxy, though the planet itself is out of the way, there'll be a threat that the credits will, of course, match..." he thought about it for a moment. "My contacts would have you deal a death by a thousand cuts to the Empire... but I'd have you delivering supplies in a place that it'd be least welcome... Sith space," he told him.

"There's a few people there who could use the supplies, and I need a foothold on that world, for reasons of my own," he plucked a credstick from one of his pouches, spinning it on his knuckles for a moment, before offering him the sizable amount... "I have plenty more where this one comes from, and will pay you for each run," he promised, "The Blue Star Pirates would pay you continuously for your work," he said.

[Nor Vallis]

Blue Star Pirates.

There it was. He wasn't sure what kind of affiliation the man had, but Nor had to do well by himself and make sure he wasn't getting roped into a contract which became an equivalent to an Imperial prison. He would need to operate without restriction, if he were to make a real mark in the corporate sector. The man offered a step forward, but was it a large enough step? Too much too fast was bad of course, but not moving quick enough would doom his endeavour before it even started. Still he was at least seventy percent sure he wasn't some Imperial trying to rope him into a contracted license. That was good, for them both really.

"Heh. You say smuggler, I say cargo hauler. But one man's hauler is another man's smuggler I guess." He paused for a moment. "And I asked where you get your creds from because I don't want their original owner rocking up looking for them, or worse. You'd reck my enterprise in one blow, and that's a big risk for one freighter run."

The last part of that reminded him. He still had no ship.

"Are you at least supplying the vessel, or funds to procure said vessel? Also, 'Sith space?' How deep into Sith space are you talking?"

Sith - evil cousins of the old Jedi Knights, or so he believed. Self centered in comparison to Jedi but he'd rather avoid both all together if it were possible, but that was were the money was.

"What's the payment, and what currency?"

Nor was a bit more interested now, he figured it were safe to show it. If he seemed too disinterested the contract would likely float off to some other schmuck, and it solved two problems with one solution. Cargo freighter passports were rarely, if ever, checked before leaving. So either way it was a way off world at the very least, but Tatooine sounded rubbish. He hates sand.

[Colton Hunter]

Colt withdrew the credstick after a few moments, then shrugged.

"Simple credits, standard, and the money is my own, or yours... whatever you earn through the BSP if you decide to go it that route..." he offered him, "Though these simple credits will contain a lot of zeroes... because you ask how deep into Sith space I need you to go... and the answer is deep," he emphasized that last word, his brows knit together for a moment. "The people on the planet I have in mind are in need of food and supplies, the Sith aren't exactly the nicest of caretakers, I'm told... it'll be a bleeding heart mission, sure, but I don't believe you to be that altruistic, which is what I'm looking for, someone only in it for the credits, and someone with the skills, hopefully, to get out of a tight mess... ideally, the people there will be able to set up a forward operating base," he explained, then he smirked.

"If you do good on that job, I'll make sure you have others, might even request transport out of Sith space with a rescued-- ah... operative," Colt mused. "And I'll be providing you a ship," he promised. "And it'll be yours, even once you leave my employ," he added.

[Nor Vallis]

A decent offer. It wasn't without risk of course, but no risk - no reward, and Nor lived by that creed. He had, over time, gathered a knack for taking the right ones, considering he was still alive to tell of those risks. Truth be told he wasn't looking forward to going into Sith space. He avoided all extremists by default but often when they're the ones waging war, they're the ones who pay the most for guns, supplies. Anything to help feed their war machine. Nor didn't have any reservations about supplying them, but truthfully he was happier helping the 'good guys', even if he wasn't really light blue himself.

He nodded, somewhat approvingly and then finished his drink, leaving about 1/3 left of a bottle.

"Let's get started then. Wasted minutes is wasted credits and I'm on the clock now so I'm assuming you're happy if we start now?"

[Colton Hunter]

Colt observed the man for a long, long moment, then smiled.

"Alright then, my mission here is done anyway, I have a Skipray Blastboat I've been using a lot lately, to take us to Jakelia, from there, I'll work on supplying you with your ship, from there on out, you can use it as you see fit, especially for the missions at hand," he told him, he set his own lum down, the thing was only partially touched... he had a durasteel stomach, sure, but his taste buds weren't exactly his best buds at the moment.

"So what shall I call you? I have many names, myself... none of which I named myself, mind you... My full title, as we Mandalorians have quite a bit... is the Jensaari, Colton Hunter, Chief of Clan Sorell, and Commander of Mando Cabure, I won't go into lineage as that just lengthens the process," he added with a grin, he'd lead him from the seedy bar, toward the landing pad if he truly wished to go.

[Nor Vallis]

"Ah, Royal in exile then I'm guessing. Suppose that explains the tank-get up. Having a civil war or something?" He figured he wasn't exactly ruler of the Mandalorians, but wouldn't be surprised if it was something to that effect. He'd manage to get that far, and a job offer, before actually giving his name, or 'a' name at least.

"Associates call me Nor. I don't have any titles yet. As you noticed I can't enter a run down bar without someone trying to mug me, so could do without any for now." He would've said friends instead of associates but Annalie was the closest he had to one.

So much for that, it seemed. He followed out of the doorway. He'd never been to Jakelia and was mostly curious what it was like, hopefully not too similar to here, even if he wasn't entirely sure where here was. On their brief walk, they passed the entrance to the warehouse where Nor had walked out from earlier, leaving his time on this planet behind, figuratively and literally. Now what passed for authority had gathered and cordoned off the area. No doubt they were looking for some tanked up bounty hunter, they never expected the guy in the jacket.

He followed quietly, barely saying a word until they came upto what appeared to be a spaceport, or docking ring of some sort.

[Colton Hunter]

Colt glanced down at his battered armor, and the light make up of it... it was good for ballistic protection, saved his neck more than once, could stop a blaster shot or two, but was primarily on his chest, it was noticeable, due to the damage, but it was, in no way, very heavy, or even very noticeable had it not been damaged so profoundly. He had had a bad day, yet he had come out on top. He shrugged lightly.

"Exile? Not for a long time, and even then it was ever only self-imposed.... no, my mission here was to hunt a member of Death Watch, as they tend to give us a bad name, that's what Mando Cabure is about, we police our own," he told him, as they walked, "I needed a bit of a disguise to get closer, my usual attire is a bit more... noticeable than this one," he explained, as they hit the landing pad, a large round disc that rose from the ground, he moved up the stairs to the large fighter. The only fighter in existence to also be considered a capital ship, the Skipray Blastboat. This one was painted a unique shade of black, and speckled with white spots, like stars... it'd be hard to see that ship in the void... at least with the naked eye.

The ramp came down at his approach, and he removed the eye patch, tossing it onto a table as he made his way to the cockpit, once inside, the ramp would rise, closing the door as a result. Colt sat down, and glanced back at Nor with the eye that had been covered to reveal another scar, one that bisected his eye, from the bridge of his nose, all the way to his ear. The eye that sat in that socket was an angry, glowing, red... A cybernetic replacement.

"The uniform of Mando Cabure is much more tank-like," he added with a smirk, already going through the process of starting up his ship.

[Nor Vallis]

Nor kept close, following up the ramp. Turns out he'd managed to bypass any requirement for a passport and that was a win in any scenario. Unfortunately the four-hundred 'K' would have to wait, for now. No one was going to find it because no one knew it was missing in the first place, and thus, no one would be looking. He may as well have buried it in the ground under a tree somewhere back home.

'Buried treasure', it essentially was, but to Nor Vallis it was capital, or at least enough start up capital for the shipping business. He'd be set for life if the figures had sated his thirst for wealth and economic surpremacy, but it hadn't. It only lit the bonfire and now he planned to make much more than that. A rule with all in the galaxy who wanted to succeed was you needed money, to make money. Colt was going to provide something a little more immediately useful though. A ship, one which could start the very first days of the company. The freighters and cargo would be the legal front to a business rooted in the places those with the feintest of hearts, would never be found. Hutts, Black Sun, Viraxo, Blue Star Pirates, he'd deal with any and all of them in the background. Food, minerals, construction parts, weapons, even spice, he had no preference. It was all figures on a board at the end of the day.

"So how long have you been roaming around in this?" He asked, emplying his head had been in the here and now. Then he noticed the eye.

"Mate, you need to get a new plastic surgeon."

[Colton Hunter]

Colt considered his question for a moment, as the ship left orbit, and entered hyperspace, it was a series of quick adjustments, and they'd be heading for more secure space, at least to Colt... Jakelia was in the Mandalorian sectors, a lush, green planet that had evolved to kill most humanoids. It was the epitome of survival of the fittest for those that lingered. And each Mandalorian, as a test of adulthood, had to go out, alone, and slay some great beast or another...

"Mando Cabure, in it's current form, has only been around for four years, we were stuck in the midst of a civil war, I gathered them the way they are now, to end the war, and act as peacekeepers... we succeeded, now we hunt Death Watch and Sith most days," he explained. "The person we'll, hopefully, be rescuing... she's the reason they all came together to be what they are now," he explained. Then he shrugged, tapping the temple near his cybernetic eye.

"It's what happens when a Sith tries to do surgery with a lightsaber, and your Clan is predominately engineers," he said. "It suits me just fine, especially in sabaac, I can see through your cards now," he joked, then turned back to the screen before him... he brought up a couple different schematics, several ships, but he brought up one, it looked like a saucer of some sort, with twin prongs sticking from the front. A Corellian freighter, and it had it's fair share of weapons installed as well.

"Would a YT-1300 fit your needs?" he asked him.

[Nor Vallis]

Nor sat across from him and eventually relaxed as they entered hyperspace. The chapter in his life, Annalie's chapter, was over, as was her story. Now it was just him and although the loss was a tough one to take, he didn't feel it. Too much brandy running through his vains, but not enough to impair him, miraculously.

"Ah guess that explains it."

He watched him swipe through a bunch of designs. Honestly, whatever ship it was, wasn't hugely important, but the selection was a good one. It offered not just cargo capacity, which he would extend with a few less than legal modifications, but a few guns never hurt. Also, Corellian model ships were usually quite versatile when it came to upgrading them. He reckoned he could make it a rocket with storage.

"That'll do fine." He said, leaning in closely to read the Aurebesh details.

He could already see his first step on the ladder, but no one just gives you a gun without expecting you to need it. Usually it's not enough guns too, which could be true, considering where they were going.

"Rescuing? So this smuggling is people smuggling?" He paused. He had no problem with it. "I'm not a smuggler by the way. I just get things done. Just incase you were going to list me under contacts as 'smuggler'. I do petty theft and fraud too, seeing as I'm sure you have more 'professional' killers on your payroll already, that's pretty much what I've got to offer."