Long Live Anarchy (Kress and Zara, ask to join)

[Kressara Thryn]

“That little blonde human can pack down some Bakuran Bitters.” A pair of Zabraks talked amongst themselves as they eyed an exuberantly laughing woman at the bar, striking up conversations with the bartender while the drinks kept coming.

She was finely clothed in a glittering red dress, with flaxen hair hanging down the length of her back, nice jewelry, heels, a single earring from which a scarlet stone dangled luminously. Paired with her appearance and the jovial manner in which she carried on, no one would suspect the dainty, giggling patron of being a wanted woman, much less the leader of a fast growing cartel. Least of all, a rather notorious (not to be confused with the term successful) sith. How could one so small, chipper, and pleasant be any of these things? The dress she wore, her long velvet gloves, and the thick crystal beaded choker around her neck were placed in such a way to cover the scars of her lifestyle. Around her fingers were durasteel rings hiding tightly wound spools of razor wire that could click free at the pull or press of their tiny crow insignias. They were covert weapons which the woman kept on her person at all times, closer than a Jedi kept their lightsaber to their side. Aside from a vibro dagger tucked away beneath her attire, the young lady was ill prepared for combat. Her gear was back in the room she’d rented. After all, this wasn’t really the sort of place where one might recognize her. Even if they thought they might, Kressara’s true face and name was hardly out there. Her crimes were committed under guises and personas, with forged papers and deliberate costumes.

“If I’d known this planet had so many beautiful people running amuck, I would have moved here eons ago!” The buzzed blonde mused out loud over the music to the man pouring her drinks. He snickered in return and asked, “Do you even know what planet you’re on at this point, miss?”

Pausing, golden hazel eyes trailed around the room and then back to the bartender. The girl chortled, “No! No I haven’t got a clue!” Maybe she was a bit more than buzzed, but at least the woman remembered her hotel, the suite number, and where she kept her passkey. “Would you be an absolute doll and remind me?”

“Zygerria. You’re in the capitol, sweetheart. Are you staying anywhere? Will you be alright leaving here by yourself?” While the bartender meant well, the lovely patron had no intention of leaving any time soon.

“Oh, I’m not nearly done here. I haven’t even made any friends!” Spinning on her barstool, the young woman turned on the room with a movie star smile and boldly announced, “Who would like to be my friend and drink with me?”

[Zasabi Ray]

With a smile tinged by wry amusement, Zasabi answered the call. Sweeping up from his table, he gallantly swept out an arm like a masked holodrama hero.

"How could I turn down such delightful company?" He announced, walking up to the bar with the soft measured steps of a dancer. His eyes glittered with good natured mischief. "Bartender, a neutron star for me, and whatever this fine lady would like."

He mounted the stool, glancing at his chronometer as he did so. He had some time to kill before the party he was due to crash. Why not spend it here?

The drink put before him had two components, one glass frosted as if just removed from a liquid nitrogen bath and the other lit aflame by an oddly incongruous wooden match. Taking the lit glass and dropping it into the larger of the two, it created a cloud of reddish-blue mist Zasabi inhaled as he slammed both beverages down at once.

His eyes rolled back into his head for a moment as his mind briefly slipped into the roiling maelstrom of a star before passing on into his stomach, freezing his guts while burning its way down his throat.

Not entirely unlike being skewered by a lightsaber, he reckoned.

Letting out a small hiss of frozen mist, he turned a slightly sloppily smile to his new friend. "Just had to get things started right. What are you drinking tonight, friend?"

[Kressara Thryn]

Eyeing the interesting choice of drink, curious hazels enviously observed as her newest ”Friend” downed his kick to the gut. That looked significantly more interesting than her Bakuran Bitters. When asked what she was having, Kressara peered into Neutron Star glazed emeralds with a shimmer of glitterstim deposits in her own irises, glimmering along her water lines. Finishing off her current drink, she slid the empty glass over the counter to the bartender and stated, “I’ll take one of those…fiery cold things, as well, please and thank you!”

While she waited for a second drink to be made, the scarlet clothed blonde turned up the glamorous wattage behind her smile and beamed at the new face.

“Eula Endellion, at your disposal! Thank you very much for buying me a drink! Tell me, what do they call you, friend?” She was pleasant enough, radiating warm energy and grinning like a cheshire cat. Eula (One of her many aliases) aimed all of that sunshine hospitality at the man behind the counter when a second neutron star was produced. Fixated on the components of the drink, Eula leaned down onto the counter to watch the flaming glass drop into its icy bath, then giggled as she scooped up the beverage. Down the hatch it went, vapors and all, placing the empty glasses down with suspended breath before clouds of chemical fog rolled from her nose and licked at her red stained lips.

A cold burning filled her from the inside out, like she swallowed a lightsaber, but the fuzzy head rush it gave her? Immaculate.

“That was well worth you money.” Eula snickered.

[Zasabi Ray]

Zasabi let out a laugh at her reaction. "It's good, right? I've been leaning toward the more esoteric stuff these days. Why go for a simple brandy when there's a galaxy of possibility out there, right?"

Shaking his head, he gestured to the bartender and ordered another drink. The beverage the man brought was less exciting to the eye, certainly, but better for sipping with company. Looking back to the beautiful woman beside him, Zasabi swept aside a few strands of his messy hair that had drifted onto his forehead.

"Plenty of people call me plenty of things, Eula, some less flattering than others. I'm only in town for tonight though, and some of those folks might take offense to me spending even that long here, so lets avoid names. How about you come up with something to call me, and we'll use that for now?"

His smile was genuine and earnest, but despite his honesty it was still plain that he had something to hide. That sort of thing was no doubt not foreign to his drinking partner, but he didn't know that just yet.

[Kressara Thryn]

“Make up a name? Oh, you don’t want to leave me that task. I’m HORRIBLE at making up names.” Says the woman using one out of many fake aliases. Still, she leaned in on one elbow, looking the man up and down before nudging his stool with her heel to spin him for a 360 degree view. Humming in thought, glimmering teeth dug into her red painted bottom lip. “So until you give me your real name, and maybe even after such a time, you shall henceforth be dubbed, Green Bean!”

As goofy as the pet name was, she said it with a batting of inked lashes and a playful scrunching of her shoulders as she ordered herself another bakuran bitter. Looking behind them at the mention of not being so welcomed, Eula expertly feigned the drunken enthusiasm of an excitement starved young woman who finally found someone interesting to talk to.

“Ooh! What’s that like? You must have quite the story to tell then, Green Bean. I wouldn’t know. People welcome me everywhere just about! You really just have to smile and find that common interest, you know? Well, so long as you’re sitting with me I won’t let anyone take offense to your presence!...or at least, I won’t let them do anything about it.” She added with a golden eyed wink, aiming a finger gun at the viridian haired man with a cheesy ’pew pew!’ sound for added effect. Leaning in closer with an elbow over his shoulder, she whispered, “If I’m being honest, I’m a reporter. Don’t tell anyone though. I’m undercover so I can find a decent insider scoop before that bantha puck of a story thief from Holoviz sniffs me out.”

Sitting upright once more in her own seat for another sip of her drink, Eula continued to weave her story to the man who in turn, hid truth from her.

[Zasabi Ray]

The theelin laughed at her impromptu assessment of him, shaking his head as the stool slowly spun back to face her. Despite himself, Zasabi was finding himself amused by the blonde.

"It certainly sounds like you've got it figured out," he admitted ruefully. "I'd probably have more friends if I didn't end up being in trouble as often as I do. But maybe all that trouble'll be good fodder for a story or two, eh?"

Sipping from his own drink, he made a show of looking around as if checking for would-be eavesdroppers.

"For example," he began with a sly grin crossing his face, "I hear that there's a pretty big deal on the cargo docks tonight. Only, it's not your usual wares being hawked. Looks like someone's trying to resuscitate the old Zygerrian empire of old, with their favorite industry in mind. Someone with a holocam in the right spot might catch the buyers and sellers in the act, maybe expose the whole thing."

He leaned back, his voice raising slightly from the whisper it had been at. "It'd take a pretty bold person to pull that off, though. Not sure the holoviz slugs can manage that sort of scoop."

[Kressara Thryn]

This one seemed just light hearted enough to be fun without Kress having to fake 100% of her personality. That was refreshing. Usually she had to chameleon on these missions to the point of method acting just to keep her head above water, but Green Bean wasn’t so bad. Latching onto his idea of a fun night might just land her a few contacts, maybe a nice hunk of information on the local underground politics, names, numbers, people she could use to further her own cartel’s territory and product line. This was how she scoped places out after all. You can’t find anything shady if you don’t get yourself into trouble from time to time.

Her new friend leaned in to whisper about some such gossip, which brought the grinning blonde in closer as well. Docks? Resurrecting old rule? Something about a favored trade? That sounded like it lined up directly to her own motives. Either she’d get dirt on a useless group and use it to negotiate immunity in the area by ratting them out to the local government, or she’d hold the video over their heads and extort whatever she could from the wannabe revolutionaries. Eula sat up straight in her chair again and chewed her lip in thought for a moment. She had everything needed to catch a “scoop” out from under the noses of people she didn’t actually know.

“That’s some lead you’ve got. You’ll have to tell me how you know that sometime.” Winking, she finished off the last shot of the night before she was entirely too wasted to so much as walk straight. “I’m a bit tipsy, but who could pass up a chance to climb that ladder? I’ll leave here, change, grab a coffee to sober up a little, and head out that way if you don’t mind giving me some directions.” She talked like she intended to head out alone, which was true. Kress didn’t like working where strangers could see her process. Just gave more information on her that was harder to hide as the heat turned up. “Unless you had a mind to come along.” She thought to add, just in case.

With enough backup, she could probably avoid fighting entirely and just collect data.

“So then, I’m not from around here. What’s the old empire’s Trade of Choice?”

[Zasabi Ray]

He nodded his approval at her drive. "It'll be in an hour or so. Just enough tune to change into something a little less visible. You wouldn't want to be caught, after all. These aren't nice folks."

Zasabi polished off the remainder of his drink as he listened to her ask about the Zygerrian's history with a small note of surprise on his face. What reporter didn't do some basic research before showing up on the scene?

"You didn't know?" His lips quirked almost maliciously. "Zygerria had an empire for a time, before the Republic moved in. Their biggest import and export was sentient traffic. Slaves."

Leaning back, he settled amused eyes on her. "I hope that doesn't scare you off from a career making-"

His voice trailed off as his wristcom tweeted into existence. "Oh well," he mentioned sadly. "Looks like my break is up. Time to go to work."

He rose from his stool, bowing his head to the beauty. "Hopefully I'll see you again sometime. Good luck tonight. Should be a real show."

Offering her a wink, he stepped away and walked into the night air. The operation was on.

Picking up the pace, he began to jog toward his rendezvous point. It wouldn't do to keep his friends waiting.

[Kressara Thryn]

“Like I said, Doll. I’m not from these parts! Just here to steal some business from an old ’friend’ while I’m ’on a vacation.’ if you pick up what I’m putting down.” In earnest she wanted to run up her tab one more shot before paying out, but she was already approaching the fuzzy borders of her functional threshold. Anymore and she might be at a disadvantage for future endeavors. Talk of their primary export quirked a plucky grin from the blonde who responded in turn, “Scare me? Not even with a blaster aimed at my skull three drinks ago. Actually, this just makes me want to mess up their plans even more, so thanks for the tip Greenb-”

An alert interrupted their conversation, spurring her drinking partner to up and leave her alone at the bar. Twirling her wrist into a half hearted bow of her head in return, a curtain of shimmering white gold dropped from her shoulder with hazels unmoved from his own gaze. “Perhaps we will! Enjoy the rest of your night, friend.”

They seperated, she paid off her debts for the night and exited the bar shortly after. For someone with way too many drinks in her system, she wasn’t stumbling about the place and made short work of finding her hotel. A Functional Drunk they call her, the undercover sith assassin reached her room and dropped down onto the chair in the corner for a few moments to collect herself. After a moment of quiet to recharge, she phoned in her findings to her cartel’s intel manager. “Blink! Hey man…I got a lead. Zygerians meeting up at the docks to try and score a major trafficking arrangement. Picked it up from a man at the bar a few minutes ago. Nah, he seemed cool, unless he’s one of them and just trying to lure a gullible drunk offworlder into a nasty situation. In which case, they’re really in trouble. Backup? For this? No, I don’t think so. Just giving you my position in case I’m wrong about that…WHAT?? Dude, you have to stop messing with Lorcan when he’s drunk. Because I said play nice! Yeah yeah, I don’t care if he ate your cheesecake, WORK TOGETHER. I’ll get you another one when I get home, alright?”

The conversation derailed for a few minutes as she slipped out of her glittery getup and into a more familiar outfit. A dark red bodysuit beneath layers of pouch belts, weapon holsters, and blade sheaths, tucked into a thigh high pair of soft soled leather boots over which she strapped light weight amoring. Doning slim battery packs to her arms that hooked up to her data watch and durasteel rings on each finger containing hidden spools of razor wire, Kress applied matching armor over the packs that ran the length of her forearms. Over that, a belted black leather trench coat bunched at the elbows. Slipping her briefcase out from beneath the bed, she began picking out her gear for the mission. Once sufficiently armed to the teeth, she sent a transmission to the hull of her Skipray parked in a shipyard about a mile from the hotel.

“Mrs. Belinda! I’m activating my tracker. Follow me, but keep out of sight unless I call you. We’ve got work to do.”

Repacking her former outfit into the now empty weapons case, Kress hooked up her boot armor’s climbing aids and exited via the window, leaving the room as though she’d never been there. Actually, she never paid for the room at all. She merely climbed in through that very window the night before and left a do not disturb plaque on the door as though it’d been occupied by a guest. Grappling one of her wires to the sill and using the articulating talons on her boot toes to grip the wall as she repelled down to the alley below, the assassin retrieved her grappling hook, and kept to the shadows on her way to the waterfront.

[Zasabi Ray]

The streets near the docks were practically deserted at this late hour, only a few vehicles parked about giving any indication that this area saw traffic at all. One of those vehicles, a hovervan, hummed quietly despite showing no other signs of activity at a distance. The exterior of the van showed the generic logo of a shipping company that would not have been out of place in any of a million cities across the galaxy but remained otherwise utterly unremarkable. Behind the tinted viewscreen sat an equally still but wakeful figure suited in black matte Mandalorian armor.

Watching quietly, the figure observed as a green haired man fell into view from a nearby rooftop, rolling off of the back off a parked transport truck only to land gracefully and silently on the ground. Clothes in shambles and missing a shoe, the man kicked off his other shoe and began to jog toward the van. Inside, the armored figure made no move save to utter a short burst of binary that led one of the other seven figures in the back to open the back of the van.

"Greetings, Boss."

Smiling wryly at the heavily modulated voice emerging from the armored visor before him, Zasabi let out a small sigh. "So, this outfit was a bad choice it turns out. Those shoes were not made for traversal and the coat tears too easily."

He hopped inside the van, shedding layers of clothes as he did so. All efficiency, each garment was snagged out of midair by whichever droid happened to be closest and thrown into a trash receptacle. Once he was down to his bodysuit, he turned to the others.

"Alright gang, here's the score. The buyers should already be set up and waiting, so the sellers are who we're hoping not to scare off. Stick to the plan, keep in the dark and out of sight, and focus on securing the vessels those victims are aboard. 01 and I will secure the exterior. Priority is on the victims, then sellers, then buyers, got it?"

A series of affirmative bleeps answered him as they began to file out silently into the night. Their armor had been adjusted ahead of the operation to emphasize stealth, so even with the natural clunkiness of most droids they remained surprisingly difficult to detect once out of the light.

Slipping on a skullcap to flatten his hair, Zasabi began to suit up. His armor was perhaps the least stealthy of the bunch, but he wasn't meant to go unseen. In fact, he was intending to be very visible once the conflict began. His nemesis armor was meant to draw attention and take the heat that would send his way.

"Give me a few minutes and we can get started, Stark."

The sole remaining droid at the head of the car merely settled a single hand on the throttle of the hover van.

-     -     -     -     -

Gueran was far from an impulsive man, but the KSC contact before him was starting to test his patience.

"What do you mean they're running late?" he spat, his finely furred fingers curling into knobby fists. He hadn't made his way on Zygerria by tolerating disrespect or incompetence, and Vivec was treading on both lines with a wire-walker's deftness.

"Look, Gueran, these things happen. Sometimes a palm has to be greased, a power converter needs to be swapped, these things happen! The Cooperative always makes their deliveries, and this one will arrive before the sensor window closes. You have nothing to worry about!"

Vivec appeared to be the very image of calm and professional courtesy, but inside his heart was pounding. Gueran was important in the Zygerrian underworld and worked hand in hand with conservative political figures that wanted a return to the planet's old status. Part of that was playing the role of a 'talent scout' to find servants and the like that would fit their tastes. The Karazak Slavers Cooperative was more than happy to oblige, but the majority of the planet was not fully in support of such practices and as such a great deal of subterfuge was required. If this shipment was found out, it would likely mean that their working relationship would be at an end- and with as many guards as Gueran had brought, no doubt that meant that Vivec's life would also meet a similar end.

"No doubt they're just running silent to avoid drawing attention. They'll be here shortly," he affirmed, mostly to himself.