S.S. Fawkes - CF-142AC
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Extra muscle

Posted on Tuesday October 8th, 2019 @ 00:20 hours by Caras Tracyn & Mayterial Droz & Taben Natal

Mission: Hot Couture
Location: Unnamed dive bar, surface, Rangalor V
1743 words - 3.5 OF Standard Post Measure

Mayterial was making a habit out of starting up back alley deals in order to get the crew together for this heist. It came with the territory but in all honesty it didn't sit well with her. She only had to run into one sting operation, or someone that did turn out to have a moral compass and she'd be in deep shit. Not to mention all the people out there that weren't above kicking someone when they were down. That's why for this particular meeting she had chosen to bring her new First mate with her. Just some back up, "You're sure we can trust this guy?"

"I don't trust anyone except Blake and D'Tar," Taben replied as he gently tapped the two disruptors holstered on either side of his belt. He pulled out a small dagger concealed in a special pocket in his shirt, "And Colonious, of course!" The Trill twirled around the dagger showing off his skill before placing it back in its sheath. "That said, I do my due diligence--I'm still alive after all, and this guy has a pretty good reputation. One of those good guys who makes bad choices and feels bad about them. Usually a good sort if they can stay out of their own way. I'm ready for anything though."

"Well, let's get to it then." Mayterial took in a deep breath and pushed the door open to the dive bar they had agreed to meet in. The smell of stale sweat and bear immediately greeted her as she entered. Now she remembered why she never went to these places sober, "Now how do we recognise this fellow?"

Taben looked around the bar, his eyes lingering a bit too long on any gentleman he found attractive before re-focusing on the task at hand. After a few seconds of looking around, he had it narrowed down to three. Professional mercenaries always had a certain bearing to them that caught the eye. One was a woman, nope. Another guy was chatting with someone else and probably engaged in a drug deal, Nope. The last guy was sitting at a table by himself. He seemed to be the right age and definitely had a 'professional mercenary' bearing to him. Taben nodded discretely in his direction. "That guy," he said quietly under his breath to the Captain as he casually started moving toward the stranger. By instinct, his mind immediately began deconstructing the fellow looking for all sorts of tells. The less professional part of his mind also sized up other concerns, as he approached the table and sat down in one of the available seats, strategically choosing to sit at the seat with his back to the wall with the fullest view of the bar.

The last thing that went through his head, before a ripple of concussive force that is, was that perhaps he should have ducked it, instead of perhaps trying to hurt the other man's fist with his head. Hindsight was 20-20 though. But as bad as his hindsight was, he had a dimmer view of someone who tried to take advantage of some girl who’d walked into the wrong bar and hadn’t kept an eye on her drink. He wasn’t sure what that powder was, but he knew it hadn’t been good for the person drinking it.

Gritting his teeth, Caras deflected the wrist of the next blow that came his way, and turned a little, driving his elbow into the nose of the Xindi-Reptillian with a satisfying crunch. Moving forward, he drove his fists in rapid succession to his opponent’s stomach, before following up with a final slam to the face that sent him down. Shaking his head, Caras spat what felt like piece of his tooth onto the floor before heading towards the bar. He hadn't been looking to pick a fight today, but there wasn't a bouncer in this place and, well, the Xindi's actions hadn't sat well with him. He took a bottle of water from the tender and found an empty table. He had an appointment soon and hoped he wasn’t kept waiting too long.

Caras settled into the chair at the side of the table and wiggled himself into it. Practiced eyes glanced about at the crowd for a few moments, idly picking out who and what didn't belong. There were the uplanet rich kids, trying to look like they belonged here, with scuffed leather jackets and ripped jeans. The only problem was they were wearing damned near identical outfits, shoes that weren't even scuffed slightly, and had 500 slip haircuts. Then there was the groups like the Syndicate, and some lesser ones that were always after the next score, the next big thing, the next payoff. Then there were a few others like him, the ones that could handle themselves, could probably afford other places, but were…out of place there.

Sighing, he sipped his water as a figure settled in near him and quirked an eyebrow at the man. Trill, from the spots. The woman he wasn’t sure, humanoid that’s for sure. A small wry smile formed on his face as he watched them, holding his bottle near the top with a thumb over the lid, while the other hand lazily relaxed over the side of the chair, conveniently near his holster. “I really hope you’re the people Thelfi put me on about or one of us needs to find a new table.” that smile stayed on his face, but it never quite reached his eyes.

"I think I like this table just fine." Mayterial kept standing at the table. All the good spots were taken and she was more comfortable hovering over the two men anyway. "We plan on doing something stupid, looking for someone to have our back." This wasn't a place for idle chit-chat, flowery language, or smooth talking.

Caras quirked an eye at the woman looming over the table. Glancing between the two, between body language he'd probably guess she was in charge, but he'd been wrong before and would be again. Sipping from his water again he made a small bob of his head before turning it back towards her "Depends on how stupid and what the pay is. Are we talking Battle of Prexnak stupid or Lissepian Mother's Day stupid?"

Mayterial tried to weight the two off against each other, "The brand of stupid is more in line with New Rubicon Red Hand stupid." In truth there we so many moving parts with this, and all of them could fall apart at a moments notice, it wouldn't surprise her if the end result would be close to that as well.

Taben grinned as he chimed in with feigned enthusiasm, "It's the fun kind of stupid--and the sort of stupid that gets something good done for fair pay. That's a win-win-win, eh?"

Caras pondered his bottle for a few more moments, as he thought about it. He'd never heard of the example she had given, but it was a big galaxy, it's not like you heard about everything on every planet. He vaguely wondered what his limit on crazy adventures would be, and gave a little inward sigh. Well, what could one more hurt. "In general it's a victory all around, yes. Just what sort of pay? Fair means a lot of different things to a lot of different people."

"Ten strips of GPL." That was about a week's wage for masters-at-arms, the role he would fill in the heist. That wouldn't be too bad for maybe two day's worth of work, "they would obviously be completely clean, non-sequential, etcetera."

Caras made a little show of mulling it over. In truth, he'd more or less already had decided to accept the offer earlier, when he was put onto it. He'd been getting a bit restless, and he'd had worse offers to be sure. "You've got yourself a back watcher. I'll need to pick up some gear I've got stashed away, and the broad strokes of what's going on so I know what I need to kit up. Especially if you're wanting some gratuitous violence...that's a whole extra bag I have to bring."

"It's a black-tie event." Mayterial looked over her shoulder, "you'll be the personal bodyguard of an important Vulcan dignitary." She put out a hand to confirm the deal they agreed on.

Caras peeked over, wondering if whatever was over the woman's shoulder was worth noticing. But in a place like this, most people just minded their own. You certainly didn't come for the drinks. "Fancy dress...I have something that could work. Not my usual thing, but that's fine. I guess I'll leave the compound grenade launcher in my bag." He gave a little smirk, then his brow furrowed as the woman stuck out her hand at him. What was she....oh right, that little human custom. He'd seen other members of the Nine do it a few times before. He racked his brain trying to remember it, then nodded. He clasped the palm of his hand to the back of hers and gave a squeeze. What an odd ritual. "You've got my comm codes from the meet set up. Send me a where and when to meet on the transport and I'll be there."

"Welcome to the team!" Taben said with a smile as he grabbed Caras' hand and shook it vigorously, "Also, no worries. You'll get to use that compound grenade launcher soon enough. Promise." His grin widened as he looked forward to seeing the grenade launcher in person. It was one of the few items missing from his collection. "I'll be sending you the meetup location shortly."

Still a bit confused about the whole shaking of the back of her hand Mayterial decided to just let it go and give a friendly smile. It seemed like this had been a good idea after all. When she heard Taben mention the grenade launcher again she wanted to interrupt, but again decided against it, leaving her standing there for a moment with her mouth agape, "We'll be seeing you soon." with that she took her leave from the conversation and not too long after also the bar they had conducted the conversation in.

END


S.S. Fawkes

"I know what I bring to the table so trust me when I say, I'm not afraid to eat alone"

 

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