| abstract
| - Market Area - Tatooine The street widens here until one is confronted with a large market, or bazaar, and one of the most high traffic areas of the Mos Eisley spaceport. The shopfronts range in size from small, rickety carts to full adobe buildings, and the goods being hawked by the vendors are equally diverse - everything from parkas to hyperdrives, hydrospanners to swoops. While the bulk of the bazaar is relatively safe to travel in, there are numerous little alleys and side streets that look considerably less so, and are avoided by those who know the area well. The innumerable vendors shout out to passers-by, trying to coax them into parting with their hard-earned credits in exchange for whatever goods they so obviously need. Things were turning out better than Ti'Ilandria had ever hoped. Having run into Roe, and wandered off, enjoying a good portion of the day with the other woman, Ti'Ilandria was now in an upbeat mood, rather than in the dregs of anger and despair she had been finding herself in recently. With the crew of the Hammer Head currently busy, Ti'Ilandria was also not plagued by Barrien's presence, and questions. Another thing to feel upbeat, even liberated about. So it is that, while disguised as 'mira Styre' still, the New Republic TechGirl wanders the dusty streets of Mos Eisley, peering in merchant stalls and junk shops - idely peering over merchandise, searching out something specific. After all, she needs to see if it is just Mos Espa alone that has the old parts, and if there are whispers about this mysterious 'Droid Army' that she was sent to investigate, elsewhere. Even a professional, when in the field for too long, can slip up in their cover. It can be one normal step when playing the part of an old man with a limp, the wrong name dropped at the wrong time, an acquaintance from the past that sees features they recognize, or sometimes it's someone who hears the right things at the right time in a public place. Credits and speedy intergalactic communications work wonders in all intelligence gathering outfits and today Ti'Ilandria Di-Inaris was going to learn just how effective they were. Already the team of Sith operatives had located their target for the day. Taking turns, the members of the team browse shops near the tech and always stay close enough to keep tabs on her. Determining her path this afternoon, they prepare and then spring their trap on her. As Ti approaches a particular shop, one member of the team closes in and shoves the woman further into the store to put her off-balance. Meanwhile, another member waits inside with a blaster drawn and a grin on his face. Behind, the door to the shop closes and the shades are drawn down. "Well well well, fancy bumping into you here. Keep nice and quiet and this will all be over nice and fast." With her mind racing, Ti'Ilandria, dressed as 'Mira' just stares at the two, trying to twist her head to look behind her, then forward again. This isn't good. Isn't good at all. Considering her options, Ti'Ilandria slowly raises her hands, making gentle, reassuring motions. "Hey, hey, hey. I'll have you know, I don't carry my credstick on me, nor my bank card," she offers in the accent she's adopted for this personal, the one her father had. "So... I don't have my swoop winnings on me. This isn't going to do you any good, really," she continues. Glancing around the shop, Ti'Ilandria considers, trying to slowly ease her way to a wall - or to find an escape. If worse comes to worse, some room to use her vibroblade would be nice, because, let's face it, Ty is horrible with a blaster. These aren't half-rate thugs and it shows in the way they handle their weapons. Each one keeping their eyes closely on their target and compensating accordingly for each of her movements. "Sorry, doll, but the show's over. We'll have more time for chatting later on." The woman keeps her blaster aimed square at the tech's chest while the man holsters his own and draws a dartgun from behind his back. As he is doing so, the door opens to reveal what appears to be a beggar, covered in tattered robes, entering the room. A nasally voice from behind a rebreather intones, "We're clear." Each of the teammates eyes the incoming individual for only a moment before turning back to their prey, the business end of the dart gun now rising to face Ti. At this moment, the beggar bumps into the woman, who remains frozen in place just as she was previously, but with her weapon slowly lowering. From underneath the thick robes, a weapon of his own is raised and cuts through the silence to send a flash of red energy into the chest of the man with the dartgun. No time is wasted as the man disguised as a beggar rushes forward to stand over the other man, staring down at him for a moment before he fires once more. Lavender eyes watch the dartgun, trying to time when to duck out of the way. But then, all the Hells break loose as a new variable enters into the equation with the seeming beggar coming to her rescue. Not wanting to look a gift-bantha in the mouth, Ti'Ilandria spins on the balls of her left foot, drawing out the vibroblade, activating it as she does so. Slipping into the focus that she only manages to attain when training with a weapon, the woman is able to push away all her current doubts and bitter thoughts. Pushing with her right foot, Ti'Ilandria shifts her weight and center of gravity, bringing the blade around in a quick and relatively silent lunge towards the remaining 'thug' that was threatening her. She'll need to be quick if she wants to end this. There is a brief moment where her mind debates between slicing at the blaster, or running the woman through. In the end, there is only one choice, and the decision to follow through with a killing blow is made. The beggar pays no attention to the commotion behind him as he remains focused on his own target. Crouching down, he starts to rifle through the contents of the man's pockets and pouches, eventually coming back up with a datapad. Standing up, a medicinal autoinjector drops from one of his sleeves as he brings both hands to bare on the device, keying in a passcode to bring up its contents. Meanwhile, as the tech lunges for the woman, she fights as hard as she can to raise her blaster back up and pull off a shot, but is only capable of firing once into the dusty floor of the shop. As the knife strikes home, she barely registers it, instead feeling just the force of the blow itself before she succumbs to her wound and drops to the ground. One arm rises to pull back his hood and unsnap the rebreather, revealing the face of the retired Brigadier General Drax Rendolen. "You might want to pick a better place for a vacation. The wrong folks got word you were here." Taking the datapad, he flings it gently across the room like a child's repulsordisc in Ti'Ilandria's direction. "Orders went out a little while ago." As the woman drops, Ti'Ilandria stares for a brief moment, registering what just happened. Pulling back her blade, the woman bends to wipe it upon the fallen figure's form, patting her down for anything useful - datapad, credits, keys to a ship... that sort of thing. "Nerfy," murmurs the woman as she rises, sliding the blade into it's sheathe, just in time to blink and catch the datapad, murmuring scolding her subconscious with a 'Shut Up', before glancing at the screen in confusion. When Ti'Ilandria looks up to the man to offer her thanks, she blinks in even more confusion. Wait, isn't he on the other side? This ... does not compute! Thus the young woman's mouth is left momentarily agape, before she is able to snap it shut with a hollow >>chink<< of teeth. Lavender eyes scan the pad aggain, before her hand lowers and she watches Drax Rendolen a moment. "Why are you helping me?" she queries, albeit in a wary tone. "I'd say it's because I owe you one, but I don't. Technically, you owe /me/ one. And now you owe me twice." Drax's robes shift as he words at putting away his own weapon and then starts eyeing the two fallen operatives on the floor. He seems engrossed in a specific task, sizing up their present position against unknown variables, as he continues talking, "What can I say? I got a bum rap, but it's one that works for me so don't go telling anyone about this. If anyone finds out, or asks, or you feel the need to talk about this, then you say it was you and you got lucky. You copy that?" Rummaging through equipment pouches under his robes, he procures two small, fizzyglug containers that seem to have been taped over with a small bit of electronic control circuitry attached at the top. Each one gets dropped at particular points in the room before he motions towards the back. "I'm just a guy doing his job and I need to know this will stay between us." Drax's concentration on the other task breaks as he looks in Ti'Ilandria's direction with a cold stare that searches for any indicator of truth or fiction. "The people I work under aren't anyone I need on my ass and if this is a mistake that gets between me and my job, then I have no issues fixing it." Looking expectantly for an answer, he tips his head forward and raises his brow, "Understand?" Lips slowly form a thin line, "Wonderful, I don't know whether to thank you, or be scared off my Eopie about your plans for me, or what your current job is." Then Ti'Ilandria shrugs, glancing around the shop, before turning her attention back at Drax. "Oh well, I'm likely better off /not/ knowing. And don't you worry none, I ain't gonna tell anyone. Not even going to mention this happened. Don't got a soul to tell, really." she states with another shrug of her shoulders. Watching carefully as the two cans are pulled out, an eyebrow arches upwards, then the woman's lips pull into a lopsided grin. "Nice work," she notes, before bending down and grabbing the woman's blaster. Never throw away a good blaster. "Save the thanks, but one day I may call in the favor." Pulling a hand out from his robes, Drax looks over a small cylinder to check it's status lights, which show as green. "I always worry. It's what keeps me alive." Cold emerald eyes remain on Ti'ilandia a moment longer as he searches her further for more answers to questions left unasked. Either finding what he needs or giving in to the time constraints, he resumes his activities. "They'll get the job done. Leave the blaster and the datapad. You don't know their past and you don't want to be tied to them. The backup team will be here shortly and we have to get moving." With his head, the intelligence agent formerly in the employ of New Republic Intelligence motions towards the back door of the shop. "I'd suggest getting off planet. But if that isn't possible, do you have someone to stay with? I doubt they'll back off now that they're onto you." Watching the front door of the shop, the Alderaanian begins making his way to the back door. Looking at the blaster, then back at Drax, Ti'Ilandria drops it at the woman's side with a lover's sorrowful sigh. "Damn, it was better than mine," she grumbles, before shoving her hands into the pockets of her jacket. "Yeah, worrying... I'm so sick of being the on... Nevermind," she says, shaking her head. "Pffft, great, just what I wanted, my own personal team of assassins trying to kill me! Every girl's dream," is offered, adding some of her droll humor to the situation she finds far too uncomfortable. Then when Drax asks if she has someone she can stay with, the woman's eyes narrow and grow cold, her lips pulling back into dark curl. "I do. But do I /WANT/ to is the question." Considering a long moment, the woman kicks the woman's thigh, before turning and taking a couple of strides to the back door. "Considering I /LIKE/ living, suppose I don't have much of a choice. For now." "It's nothing personal. You're just a target in the open and they know it. Odds are they're just fishing. Who knows, maybe they won't send anyone else, but it isn't the kind of thing you bet on." As they near the back door, Drax snaps his rebreather back on and pulls his hood up over his head. "Sometimes life deals a crumby hand, but every game worth playing is half luck and half skill. Hold up your end of things and you'll be fine." Before opening the back door, the Alderaanian once again looks at the woman and then rummages around through his pockets. He holds out a datastick for her to take, "You stay with that person. In an extreme emergency jack that into any terminal. It had better be good and it had better involve a Sith or I will not be happy." With that said, he opens the door and casually exits, taking a look both ways down the alleyway behind the shop. "All clear. From here on, I don't know you. There's a speeder out front. Ignition code 257-alpha-tango. Get going." Continuing to move, the agent makes his move towards the main thoroughfare to lose himself in the crowds and trigger the explosives from there. The datastick is observed, and Ti'Ilandria resist the urge to plug it into her datapad and peek at the code. Stuffing the stick, instead, into her pocket, the woman just gives a nod. "You sound like my mother, 'cept she was more rainbows and sunshine, and a better conversationalist. Lavender eyes glance around, then Ti'Ilandria nods. "Right, don't know you, whoever you are," she says, flicking a glance over her shoulder, down the street, before moving to the speeder. "If it's a Sith, I'll be too damned scared to use it. You're in the clear." And with that, Ti'Ilandria hops on the speeder, punches in the ignition code, and twists the throttle to speed away.
|
![[RDF Data]](/fct/images/sw-rdf-blue.png)